Paul L. Gavrilyuk, america magazine
Russia's influence seen behind the scenes
During
the week of June 19, the leaders of the self-governing Orthodox
churches worldwide gathered in council on the island of Crete. As the
first global Council of the Orthodox Church in more than 1,000 years,
this historic event promised to usher in a new era of conciliarity.
I
had a rare privilege of serving as an external correspondent for the
Press Office of the Patriarchate of Constantinople, under the leadership
of the Rev. John Chryssavgis. Together with other members of our team, I
lived through the dramatic events leading up to the council, was
present at some of the council’s sessions and served as a liaison
between the council and the outside world, especially the journalists,
scholars and ecumenical observers.
This first of two articles describes attempts to subvert
the council and how the attempts failed. The second article will deal
with the outcome of the council and its importance for Catholics and
other Christians.
Preparations for this highly anticipated council began in
1961 and continued, with various setbacks and delays, for more than a
half-century. Lacking the central organization of Roman Catholicism,
Eastern Orthodoxy is a communion of the 14 recognized self-governing
local churches, with the patriarch of Constantinople enjoying the
position of first among equals. Patriarch Bartholomew and his
predecessors in the Ecumenical Patriarchate of Constantinople have been
the main supporters of the conciliar process on the global level.
Historically, there have been tensions and power struggles
between the “Hellenic” sphere of the Ecumenical Patriarchate and the
“Slavic” sphere, which is dominated by the Russian Orthodox Church
(Moscow Patriarchate). These tensions have to do with different
political orientations and historical experiences: The Patriarchate of
Constantinople continues to operate in a survival mode since the
conquest of Constantinople by the Ottomans in 1453, having suffered the
loss of most of its canonical territories over the past two centuries,
while the Patriarchate of Moscow, scarred by the Soviet totalitarian
regime, appears to be repeating history by aligning itself with the
propaganda machine of Vladimir Putin’s authoritarian state.
Constantinople sees the council as the means of consolidating its
authority; Moscow fears that its status as the largest Orthodox church
numerically may be diminished by the conciliar process.
These longstanding tensions came to the surface when, less
than two weeks before the start of the council, four churches—the
patriarchates of Bulgaria, Georgia, Antioch and Russia—one after another
announced that they would not be attending the event after all. While
each church gave different reasons for non-attendance, the long hand of
Moscow was discernible behind each decision.
The first to pull out was the Bulgarian Orthodox Church,
whose leaders cited various factors ranging from the trivial—the seating
arrangements and the costs of the council, matters on which the church
was promptly accommodated—to more serious concerns, such as its
theological objections to specific documents, which were drafted for
eventual ratification by the council. The theological concerns should
have motivated the leadership of the Bulgarian Orthodox Church to come
to the council in order to influence the outcome of the conciliar
decisions, instead of demanding to postpone the event. According to
reliable reports, the Bulgarian Patriarchate’s decision to pull out of
the council was not independent: Some leaders of this church were in
contact with their Russian counterparts shortly before the Bulgarian
Orthodox Church’s council of bishops (the Holy Synod) issued its
ultimatum about non-attendance.
The Georgian Orthodox Church is subject to Moscow’s
pressure in an equally direct manner and often served as the Russian
Orthodox Church’s echo chamber at the pre-conciliar meetings and
discussions. Along with the Bulgarian Orthodox Church, the Georgian
church is one of the most inward-looking, with an especially vocal
opposition to the ecumenical movement.
The case of the Patriarchate of Antioch is more complex. In
2014, this church broke off eucharistic communion with the Patriarchate
of Jerusalem over a jurisdictional dispute in Qatar. The oil-rich
Muslim kingdom of Qatar has a walled compound that houses Christian
houses of worship, including a single Eastern Orthodox parish of about
200 members. The congregation, almost all migrant temporary workers, is
presently served by a clergyman from Jerusalem. While this man was a
priest-monk, Antioch was quiet; when the Patriarchate of Jerusalem made
him a bishop in 2013 and established a diocese of Qatar, Antioch
objected that the land was its territory.
While this quarrel about status symbols may seem quixotic
and pedestrian, the underlying geopolitical factors merit some
attention. Qatar is an ally of the United States in the war against the
regime of Bashar al-Assad in Syria. The Qatari government is interested
in building a natural gas pipeline, which would provide a serious
challenge to Russia’s dominance in the European market. The Patriarchate
of Antioch backs President Assad, who has been its protector against
Islamic fundamentalists. This means that Qatar has good reasons for
favoring a parish in the jurisdiction of the Patriarchate of Jerusalem
rather than Antioch on its territory. Another significant player, whose
interests align with those of President Assad and the Patriarchate of
Antioch, is President Putin’s government—and its ideological extension,
the Russian Orthodox Church. After Bulgaria pulled out of the council,
Antioch followed, knowing that Russia supports its actions.
But when was the tipping point for the Russian Orthodox
Church? The most pessimistic view is that the Moscow Patriarchate
planned to sabotage the council all along and was only looking for a
suitable pretext. This would explain why official representatives of the
Moscow Patriarchate insisted on inserting the clause “unless something
unforeseen happens” into the agreement to convene the council, signed in
2014. Such a view is not implausible, given Patriarch Kirill’s tendency
to subordinate church decisions to matters of political expedience and
the advancement of the Russkiy Mir (“Russian world”), a pernicious ideology that provides a justification for Russian expansion, most especially in Ukraine.
A more cautious view is that in the last three months
leading up to the council, Patriarch Kirill was somewhat conflicted on
the matter, keeping his options open and making unexpected tactical
moves, such as meeting Pope Francis semi-privately at the Havana airport
in Cuba. This move involved a considerable risk, as it exposed
Patriarch Kirill to attacks by opponents of ecumenism among Orthodox
fundamentalists and sectarians. The Moscow Patriarchate could have
channeled these attacks in order to subvert the conciliar process, but
Patriarch Kirill and his supporters, to their credit, mostly diffused
them. Until the last week of May, Russian mass media and the Moscow
Patriarchate showed no public signs of intending to sabotage the
council.
When exactly did Patriarch Kirill and his advisors decide
to pull the trigger? On May 30, the patriarch spent some private time on
a yacht with President Putin, as they traveled to the Russian monastery
on Mount Athos to celebrate a highly politicized “millennium of Russian
monasticism” by displaying the symbols of the Russkiy Mir: the
“Christ-loving” autocrat and the obliging church bureaucrat upholding
“traditional values” against the decaying West. While it is impossible
to know what exactly transpired in the private exchange between
President Putin and Patriarch Kirill, the matter of the impending
council must have been mentioned. Was it this conversation that cemented
the patriarch’s decision?
In hopes of preventing the Patriarchate of Moscow from
further disrupting the conciliar process, I and a few trusted colleagues
initiated a petition in support of the council. Published on change.org, this petition stated:
We believe that there are no
insurmountable difficulties to beginning the Council in June, despite
the significant questions that have been raised regarding the drafts of
the conciliar documents and conciliar proceedings. We acknowledge the
legitimacy of some questions, such as the request to reopen the
discussion of the drafts of the conciliar documents. We also concur that
there are many other issues dealing with the Church in the twenty-first
century that would require future Pan-Orthodox attention.
The petition continued: “Nevertheless, we are convinced
that the best venue for settling significant disputes today, as in the
times of old, is the Council itself. To postpone the Council once again,
is to fail to live up to the principle of conciliarity on a global
level.”
Within two days, more than 1,000 Orthodox scholars around
the world—among them highly influential authorities and deans of major
Orthodox seminaries—signed the petition. The signed text of the petition
was sent in an open letter to the heads of the 14 self-governing
Orthodox churches on Sunday, June 12. Contrary to Moscow’s expectations,
the Serbian Orthodox Church, which has both pro-Russian and pro-Greek
elements within its episcopate, decided to send its delegation to the
council. From private conversations with its leaders, I know that the
scholars’ petition was taken into account as the Serbian church leaders
were making a decision regarding their participation.
Despite Moscow’s behind-the-scenes efforts to subvert the
council, the Ecumenical Patriarch found the courage to go ahead with the
event. As he landed on Crete, Patriarch Bartholomew’s first words were:
“In January, the churches have agreed to hold the council. I am not the
pope: I cannot go against the agreement of the primates.” The Orthodox
Church has proven that it does not need a papal figure to convoke a
general council. But the Ecumenical Patriarch’s primacy, when exercised
in the service of conciliarity rather than self-aggrandizement, does
keep the rest of the primates from obstructing the conciliar process.
The delegations of the 10 self-governing Orthodox churches
that arrived on Crete began the council in the spirit of brotherly love,
openness and sincerity. They lamented the absence of the four sister
churches and sent out the standing invitations to come, even at the
“eleventh hour.” The delegates emphasized that the absentees did not
invalidate the decisions of the council, as long as those decisions did
not violate the rules that were agreed upon at the preparatory meetings.
After six days of conciliar discussions, the delegates introduced minor
amendments into the six documents on mission, fasting, diaspora,
marriage, church organization and ecumenism. The last subject proved to
be the most controversial, as many different local churches had to
synchronize their ecumenical watches, so to speak.
Despite their disagreements, the council fathers found the wisdom to
speak with one voice and to walk toward unity. The leaders of the
absentee churches have failed their flocks: They had the opportunity to
represent their faithful and to write a new chapter of history together.
Whatever their reaction to the conciliar documents, one thing remains
clear: The era of global conciliarity has begun in the Orthodox Church,
making it much harder for the local churches to remain in splendid
isolation.