July 26, 1997

By MAURA REYNOLDS

MOSCOW (AP) - As incense and chants filled Moscow's glittering new Cathedral of Christ the Savior, a long line of dark-suited politicians waited patiently off to one side.

It was well past midnight, but the hour could hardly deter the prime minister and other top officials eager to be seen on national television being blessed by one of Russia's most powerful men - Alexy II, Patriarch of Moscow and All Russia.

After decades of suppression by the Communist regime, the Orthodox Church and its patriarch have clearly found themselves at the apogee of political power in the new Russia.

Scenes such as last Easter's benediction suggest the church is stronger than ever. So does the battle over so-called ``foreign religions,'' in which a Russian Orthodox-sponsored bill to restrict other faiths - including Roman Catholicism and evangelical Christianity - nearly became law last week.

But some observers warn that such appearances may be deceptive.

``A church that finds it necessary to appeal to the state to limit its competition is obviously a weak church,'' says Martin McCauley, a professor of politics at the University of London.

President Boris Yeltsin set off a storm of opposition and recrimination last week by refusing to sign the bill - the first time he explicitly and publicly rebuffed the Russian Orthodox Church on a matter of national policy.

The incident opens a rift between the state and the church, whose fortunes have otherwise been entwined ever since the Soviet collapse.

Alexy was an open supporter of Yeltsin even before the collapse, publicly blessing him during his first inauguration as Russian president in 1990. During last year's hard-fought presidential campaign, Alexy made a point of reminding believers of Soviet-era repressions and urged them to ``make the right choice'' between Yeltsin and his communist opponent.

For his part, Yeltsin has given the church extremely high visibility, attending services at Christmas and Easter, and incorporating Alexy in many ostensibly secular Kremlin ceremonies, such as treaty signings.

The partnership was important for both sides: The nascent Russian state needed the legitimacy the church could provide, and the long-repressed church was eager to throw off its shackles and regain its stature.

Russian nationhood and Russian Orthodoxy have long gone hand-in-hand. The conversion of Prince Vladimir to Orthodoxy in 988 is generally considered the founding of Russia as a nation. Before the Russian Revolution, the czar was the head of the church.

``Who's a Russian? Many would say that if you're not Orthodox, then you're not Russian,'' McCauley says.

The church now claims 80 million followers, or more than half of Russia's population. With the government's support, it has restored hundreds of churches and rebuilt - after Josef Stalin razed it - the Cathedral of Christ the Savior, whose massive white walls and gold domes rise just a stone's throw from the Kremlin.

But the battle over the religion law illustrates that the post-Soviet church-state alliance has weakened.

For one thing, Yeltsin's regime is now primarily reformist while the church has moved into closer alignment with nationalists in the hard-line Parliament - as the strong vote on the religion bill showed. Ironically, the religion bill allies the church with its former atheist enemies, the communists.

Perhaps a more important motive for the bill is that although the church is enshrined in power at the top, it fears an erosion of support from below, particularly through evangelicals and cults with a strong commitment to conversion.

Proselytism was illegal in Soviet times, so while the church was unable to campaign for converts, it didn't have to fear that other churches would do so.

That has changed dramatically. The number of Protestant evangelical churches has increased 16 times - from 50 to 800 congregations - in the last seven years. Religious groups pass out leaflets at metro stops. Hare Krishnas dance along historic Moscow streets.

Alexy argues the law on religion is needed to protect Russians from ``destructive pseudo-religious cults and foreign false-missionaries.''

Michael Bourdeaux, director of the Keston Institute, which monitors freedom of religion in Russia, calls that impulse a kind of fundamentalism directed more at gaining political power than promoting faith.

``They reckon they have one chance in history of reasserting their position in Russian society,'' he says. ``It's not a religious goal at all.''

Bourdeaux argues that the real problem is that the church hierarchy wants to return to its cushy pre-revolutionary position instead of learning to compete in a marketplace of religious ideas.

And so he has some sharp advice for Alexy.

``Look for winning souls among the huge number of atheists and those disoriented by the Soviet collapse,'' he says. ``Put your energies into that instead of fighting other denominations.''

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Johnson's Russia List

#1089

27 July 1997

djohnson@cdi.org