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Since then, and
especially since Patriarch Bartholomew granted a “tomos”, or document of
self-government, to Ukraine in January, relations between the two
Patriarchates have crashed: bishops in Moscow call it the biggest split
in eastern Christendom for centuries. It has turned into a global
contest for influence over the world’s 200m or so Orthodox Christians,
and on September 7th it surfaced in Paris, a city which in the aftermath
of the 1917 Bolshevik Revolution became a hub of Russian theology.
What
happened in Paris is paradoxical. Of the two main poles of authority in
the Orthodox world, the Ecumenical Patriarchate is regarded as the more
Western-oriented. Its survival as a Christian enclave in Muslim Turkey
relies, to some extent, on Western governments’ advocacy of religious
freedom. Its Muscovite counterpart has in recent years drawn closer to
the Russian state.
Yet in Paris, a historically prestigious and
democratically minded group of Orthodox Christians took a big step
towards realigning themselves from the Istanbul-based Patriarchate to
Moscow. Their representatives voted by 104 votes to 75 for a plan that
would put them under Moscow’s aegis, albeit with wide autonomy: not
quite the two-thirds majority needed, but their leader Archbishop Jean
Renneteau said he would continue to support the proposal and might in
due course conduct another vote.
That takes some explaining.
First, the French capital is home to a group of worshippers (mainly in
France but also scattered across half a dozen other countries) which
styles itself the Archdiocese of Russian Orthodox Christians of Western
Europe. It regards itself as the main heir to a group of quarrelsome
refugees from the Bolsheviks who brought their sharp theological minds
to France. The twilight of the tsarist era had seen a flowering of
creative religious thought in Russia and this movement shifted
westwards.
The Paris Archdiocese has also seen itself as the main
legatee of a reforming Russian church council of 1917-1918 that
proclaimed democratic principles for ecclesiastical governance, which
were never applied as the country was engulfed in revolutionary chaos.
But in recent months, the French-based group has become engulfed in
chaos of another kind: not so violent or dramatic but enough to call its
future into question.
Last November, in an unexpected move,
bishops meeting in Istanbul under the authority of Patriarch Bartholomew
voted to suppress the Paris-based archdiocese as an independent
structure. Its constituent parts were told to place themselves under the
authority of the main Orthodox prelates in their respective countries.
Supporters of the move said that at a time of polarising tension in the
Orthodox world, the Ecumenical Patriarchate needed to rally and
streamline its forces. It was untenable to have more than one church
structure in any given country answering to Patriarch Bartholomew, the
argument went.
The Orthodox hierarchy in Moscow sensed,
accurately, that this situation could be turned to their advantage. The
Paris archdiocese refused the order from Istanbul to dissolve itself,
saying it was established in French law and would consider suggestions
to ensure its continuation. The Muscovites then made an offer that would
apparently preserve the self-governance of the archdiocese, albeit
under Patriarch Kyrill’s ultimate authority.
Archbishop Renneteau
liked the proposal and started to advocate it. He calls it his flock’s
only chance of survival as a coherent body. A minority of his followers
are sceptical, insisting that Moscow will not keep its promise to
respect their self-governance. Among the sceptics are parishes in
Britain which in 2009 lost a legal battle with the Moscow Patriarchate
in the London High Court over church property.
Having accepted the
Muscovite position, the archbishop has fallen into disfavour with his
masters at the Patriarchate of Constantinople, who have formally
disciplined him and placed him “on leave” with no further responsibility
for administering parishes in France. These measures may have little
immediate practical effect but they could portend some legal contests.
One possible bone of contention is the onion-domed cathedral near the
Arc de Triomphe, built by Russians in 1861, where the archdiocese is
based. That building’s eventual return to the aegis of Moscow would be a
great filip for Mr Putin who takes a strong interest in the built
heritage of the tsarist era.
To many observers, one thing seems
clear. A period when a substantial body of Orthodox Christians in the
West, loyal to Russia’s spiritual traditions but resistant to Muscovite
authority, lived more-or-less comfortably, and managed their own
affairs, has come to an end. Sergei Chapnin, an influential commentator
on the Russian Orthodox scene, lamented on social media that “the
[Paris] archdiocese has practically ceased to exist, and the logic of
imperial Patriarchates has prevailed.”
Some Russian liberals had
seen the existence of the Parisian group as proof that it was possible
to be Russian Orthodox without endorsing the authoritarian spirit and
cosy relations with the state that they observe in today’s Moscow
Patriarchate.
This will not be the last skirmish between the
patriarchates. In recent weeks, the Archdiocese of Athens has made moves
to recognise the Ukrainian church. That is a gain for Patriarch
Bartholomew. Meanwhile, Moscow has convinced some Orthodox bigwigs
(virtually all the Slavic ones and even some Greek ones) to see Ukraine
from its point of view—that only the Moscow-aligned church there has
legitimacy.
In Ukraine itself, where church disputes could at one
point have provoked fresh war with Russia, things are now oddly stable:
the independent and Moscow-aligned churches command about 10,000
parishes each and only in a handful is there is an active dispute over
church authority.
And in ordinary parishes elsewhere, matters are
not quite as dire as the hierarchical battles would suggest, as a recent
incident in a small European town shows. Three Orthodox clerics wanted
to worship together: one was under Moscow’s authority, another under
Istanbul’s and the other under the Romanian Patriarchate, which is
friendly with both rivals.
The trio had a problem. Moscow forbids
its clerics to officiate with those under the Ecumenical Patriarchate.
So they agreed that the Romanian would lead the service, with the other
two assisting him in minor roles. No rules were broken and the liturgy
unfolded in all its dignity.
