One of the constant features of the millennium-long history of Orthodox Christianity in the lands of Rus' and throughout Eurasia has been the struggle to unify all inhabitants of the region into a single state, co-terminous with a single, unified church. This has been especially true during periods of political disunity when centrifugal forces sought to subdivide the Orthodox Church in Rus' into distinct and separate units.
Traditionally, the Orthodox Church has been a powerful force for maintaining unity among a multi-ethnic and geographically dispersed population. Hierarchically organized under a single primate, the ties of unity among Orthodox Christians in Rus' were reinforced by the convocation of all-Russian councils (sobory) which promulgated a binding code of canon law, enforced uniformity in ritual, liturgical language, and practice, and helped to shape a “national” consciousness. It was the metropolitan who first assumed the style “of all Rus'” (i vseia Rusi), two centuries prior to any prince assuming that title. In addition, the church, through the promotion of the celebration of “national” saints and heroes, helped to instill in its flock a sense of shared unity and purpose. In other words, therefore, the delineation of the land and people was determined first by the jurisdiction of the church. Sergei Pushkarev rightly concluded: “Rus was united through its church long before it was united as a nation or state, and its religious unity was one of the powerful forces that promoted its political unification.”^[1]
The Church, therefore, provided the glue to hold the land together, even in the midst of political disunity, through the promotion of a sense of common identity and common institutions. Noted historian I. I. Lappo pointed out:

The Russian Church carefully preserved the idea of unity among the Russian people. Russian national consciousness also emerged as a result of the “Russian faith.” All of those who lived in Tver, Moscow, Riazan, Polotsk, Novgorod, Chernigov, Kiev, and other cities realized that they were one Russian people primarily because they all professed one “Russian faith.” ... [The Church] made peace between the independent princes when they argued with one another and sued one another. These disagreements were very destructive for the people, but [the Church] prevented bloodshed and established the desired peace and concord, teaching that the Russian “Orthodox Christians” were one people, regardless of how the land was divided into principalities.^[2]

The cultural unity promoted across the lands and principalities of Rus', however, clashed with the attempts by regions to assert distinctive political identities. The nineteenth century church historian A. N. Mouravieff notes that it was primarily through the efforts of the metropolitan primate, “chiefly by their travels and visitations, that the divided and often discordant portions over so vast a space, were kept together as one whole.”^[3] The chief political beneficiary of this ecclesiastical policy, therefore, happened to be the prince or ruler in whose city and territory the primate made his residence, for, as Mouravieff continues, “for the spiritual authority being always on the side of the ... Prince gave him a great preponderance.”^[4] Not surprisingly, throughout the course of Russian and Eurasian history, “rivals for the ... contested political hegemony over Russia sought to deprive their opponent of the considerable moral and political advantage derived from the presence within the city walls of the chief bishop of the Russian Church.” Their best hope, therefore, for realizing their political goals was to strive for the establishment of separate church administrations.^[5] Thus, in the twelfth and again in the fifteenth century, the authorities in Novgorod attempted to separate their church — with authority over all of northern Rus' — from the jurisdiction of the metropolitan and thus from the larger whole. In the fourteenth century, separate churches were set up in Galicia and Byelorussia-Lithuania, under the sponsorship of the princes of Galicia, the Grand-Dukes of Lithuania, and the King of Poland; at one point even the Grand Prince of Moscow sought a separate metropolitanate under his own direct patronage. During the 1380's, three metropolitans jockeyed for supremacy in Rus', each backed by a different secular ruler. The final, definitive separation took place in the mid-fifteenth century. The installation of Bishop Iona of Riazan as Metropolitan of all Rus' in 1448 had been accepted, at first, by all political authorities in the East Slav world. However, in 1458, Casmir IV, Grand Duke of Lithuania, withdrew his recognition from Iona, and had a new metropolitan, Grigorii, consecrated for his domains. This brought to an end “a united Orthodox Church ministering to all East Slavic believers from its center in Moscow ... [Iona] was in no position to assert his authority in Lithuanian territory. He ... had no choice but tacitly to accept the coexistence of two separate Russian Orthodox hierarchies.”^[6] The situation was further complicated when in 1596, a portion of the Orthodox Church in Western Rus' accepted papal supremacy and entered into union with the Roman Catholic Church, becoming known as the “Greek Catholic” or “Uniate” Church.
As the power of Moscow grew, however, the fractured church of ancient Rus' was put back together by imperial fiat. The threat of the secession of the church in Novgorod and northern Rus' ended when the political independence of the republic was smashed by Ivan III in 1478; Feofil, last of the elected archbishops of the city, was replaced by Gennadii, a Muscovite appointee. The union of Pereislavl in 1654 between Great Russia and Ukraine led, in 1686, to the abolition of the separate metropolitanate in Kiev that had been created by Casimir in 1458. In 1839, all “Greek Catholics” within the boundaries of the Russian Empire were incorporated into the Orthodox Church. Even the Georgian Orthodox Church, a separate and independent Orthodox Church from the fourth century, was absorbed into the Russian Imperial Church following the annexation of the Georgian lands in 1801.
The leaders of contemporary Russian Orthodoxy are well aware of the pattern of history, especially the prospect of the eventual fragmentation of the Orthodox Church along political and territorial lines. The collapse of the Soviet Union in 1991 and the subsequent failure of the Commonwealth of Independent States to create any sort of lasting and binding federation upon its constituent members means that, in 2000, the only real manifestation of unity among the formerly fraternal republics of the USSR, especially among the Slavic populace, is the Orthodox Church. The Moscow Patriarchate of the Russian Orthodox Church is the only institution whose canonical territory encompasses the former union. Should the Orthodox Church fragment, therefore, into separate and independent Churches based upon the newly-independent states, then an important psychological, spiritual, and cultural force for reintegration will be lost. Such symbolism was made apparent during the visit of Kazakhstani president Nursultan Nazarbayev to Moscow in June 2000. It was noted that this reconstructed cathedral, a powerful reminder of the glory of Imperial Russia, could not have been built without the granite shipped for its construction from Kazakhstan, and the primate of the Russian Orthodox Church was, in turn, invited to visit Kazakhstan to consecrate the Orthodox cathedral in the new capital city of Astana, which will then serve as the premier Russian Orthodox Church in that republic.^[7]
The current Patriarch, Aleskii II (elected in 1990) has been a consistent supporter of strengthening the Commonwealth of Independent States and for promoting the creation of a “Eurasian” union that would, to some extent, recreate the old USSR, albeit without reliance on communist ideology.^[8] Aleksii says he sees the Russian Orthodox Church as a “force consolidating the nations” which make up the former Soviet Union and that he would continue to support attempts to rebuild “the great good of unity” that the CIS represents.^[9] He has categorically refused to countenance any effort to try and subdivide the Patriarchate by the creation of new national churches corresponding to the newly-independent republics. Noting that, since 1991, there has been pressure for each newly-independent state to create its own independent and separate Church, he stated: “But we took a firm stand: the Church cannot divide into fifteen autocephalous Orthodox Churches only due to the fact that the state where it performed its mission, disintegrated. ... the Church has preserved its unity thanks to centralization of church authority.”^[10] This is especially true with regard to the situation in Ukraine; after President Leonid Kuchma tentatively discussed the prospect for the creation of a separate Ukrainian Orthodox Church completely independent of Moscow, Aleksii declared: “Such a statement causes regret. One cannot tear apart the spiritual ties between our churches which have a millennium-long history ... The division attempt is to be opposed.”^[11] At its recent Council of Bishops, the Russian Orthodox Church affirmed its stance: the Ukrainian Orthodox Church exists as a self-governing, autonomous entity within the Moscow Patriarchate.^[12] A similar approach has been taken with regard to the Estonian Orthodox Church: while Estonian by nationality, it should remain within the “canonical jurisdiction” of the Moscow Patriarchate.^[13] Addressing the Council of Bishops on August 13, 2000, Patriarch Aleksii once again vigorously affirmed his determination to struggle against all “attempts by external forces to split the Russian Orthodox Church and shatter its unity.” Recalling that “even the disintegration of the Soviet Union was not able to destroy the multiethnic nature of the Moscow [Patriarchate],” Aleksii pointed out that continuing “efforts to confine the Church to the limits of the Russian Federation have also been fruitless.”^[14]
Not surprisingly, Orthodox prelates as well as politicians anxious to separate their national churches from the jurisdiction of the Moscow Patriarchate see in the policies of the Russian Orthodox Church an attempt to try and maintain some semblance of the ties which formerly bound the various republics to the Muscovite center. The vice prime minister of Ukraine, Mykola Zhulinsky, declared that “Ukraine's splintered Orthodox Christians should resist Russian efforts to unify them under Moscow's control ... An Orthodox Christian Church headed by a Ukrainian patriarch in Kiev is in Ukraine's national interests.”^[15] A hierarch in the diaspora Ukrainian Church, Archbishop Vsevolod of Scopelos, views the current activities of the Moscow Patriarchate as designed “to maintain an ecclesiastical colony in Ukraine so as to support the political ambitions of the Russian state.”^[16] At the same time, however, other Orthodox believers in Ukraine strongly oppose even the granting of autonomy, for fear that this will lead to a process of disintegration; that autonomy, by loosening the religious and spiritual ties that connect Ukraine with Russia, is the beginning of complete separation between the two nations. A lay organization in Odessa, for example, declared in August 2000 that “the unity of the Russian Orthodox church is not a matter for discussion and thus the autocephaly of [the Ukrainian Orthodox Church] is unacceptable. ... any expansion of the autonomy of [the Ukrainian Orthodox Church] actually means the autocephaly of the latter and therefore is unacceptable.”^[17]
The strenuous efforts being undertaken by the current leadership of the Russian Orthodox Church to maintain the unity of Orthodox believers across the territory of the former Soviet Union only makes sense if the hierarchs sincerely believe that the current political disunion is temporary and destined to be overcome by some sort of reintegration that will knit the successor states of the ex-USSR more closely together. The fate of the Ecumenical Patriarchate of Constantinople during the nineteenth century points to the futility of trying to maintain spiritual control over diverse populations living in separate states amidst the wreckage of a multinational empire. As the Ottoman Empire contracted, the emerging nation-states of Serbia, Greece, Romania, and Bulgaria, to ensure that the Sultan would not be able to use the Patriarch's authority to meddle in their sovereign affairs, rejected the spiritual authority of the Patriarch of Constantinople and set up independent church administrations. Leaving aside for a moment the larger question of “Russian” identity, assuming that the Moscow Patriarchate was concerned solely with the spiritual welfare of ethnic Great Russians alone, there would still be no automatic assumption that the jurisdiction of any Moscow-based church administration should extend beyond the boundaries of the Russian Federation. After all, ethnic Greeks, living in their historic homelands, and who share a common language and culture, are nonetheless divided among three principal church administrations: the Patriarchate of Constantinople, with jurisdiction over the Greeks of Istanbul and the islands of the Bosphorus; the Church of Greece headquartered at Athens, with jurisdiction over the Hellenic Republic; and the Church of Cyprus. This reflects the long-standing tradition in the Orthodox world that, as quoted by Patriarch Bartholomew in 1996 that, “'It is customary to change the boundaries of the Churches as political entities and administrations change,' declared Photios the Great, wise among the Patriarchs.”^[18] In the long run, therefore, either the Moscow Patriarchate is destined to break up into more discrete church jurisdictions conforming to the political realities of the former Soviet Union, or the continued existence of a unified Patriarchate headquartered at Moscow foreshadows the development, even if in some loose form, of some common political and economic association among the republics of the ex-USSR.
It is important to note that the term “Rus'” is increasingly being used to designate this socio-political-cultural entity which is understood to amorphously resemble the canonical territory of the Moscow Patriarchate. The precise definition of the “reconstructed Holy Rus'” that the head of the Church has made reference to is left unstated, although elsewhere it is implied that this encompasses the “fraternal Slavic peoples” of Russia, Belarus', and Ukraine.^[19] The Patriarch sees as one of his tasks the promotion of greater integration among Orthodox nationalities. “On the whole, we support cooperation between Orthodox and Slavic peoples,” he declared in April 1999.^[20] With the collapse of the interstate ties connecting Russia, Belarus' and Ukraine, it is the Moscow Patriarchate which has attempted to hold together some semblance of union between Russians, Belorussians and Ukrainians by virtue of participation in a common Church administration. At a ceremony to dedicate a “Unity Bell” on the site of the World War II battlefield at Kursk on May 3, 2000, attended by all three presidents (of Russia, Belarus', and Ukraine), the patriarch said:

For the Slavic peoples of Ukraine, Russia, and Belarus', the preceding millennium displayed the general perspective of a commonwealth, united in peace and love ... This jubilee .. is not only a remembrance of the heroic past of our glorious ancestors, but also opens a new page in the fraternal history of the Slavic peoples, in a spiritual union through the mutual respect of independent states.

Then, addressing the three presidents, who took part, he said:

Your joint participation in the jubilee celebrations stands as a mighty example of the indissoluble unity and brotherly love of our peoples ... The best gift to the heroes [who died on the battlefield] will be the strong preservation of the unity of Ukrainians, Russians, and Belorussians. Yes, today we live in independent states, but this cannot and should not disturb the existence of a single spiritual community, Holy Rus' ... We are united in faith, history, and culture.^[21]

The patriarch's words here are crucial: “we live in independent states, but this cannot and should not disturb the existence of a single spiritual community.” Such a sentiment presupposes that there exists a single people which transcends the political and linguistic divisions manifested in separate states and languages, in this case, an East Slav/“all-Russian” nation, defined by profession of a common faith (Orthodox Christianity), subdivided into several constituent nationalities. [Another point left unstated is to what extent non-Slavic Orthodox peoples in Eurasia, such as Tatars, Yakuts, Estonians, and so on, are also constituent members of this larger “all-Russian” family, not on the basis of blood or language, but by virtue of participation in a shared church.] As a result, the right to self-determination of each of these constituent nationalities is subsequently limited and constrained; each nation can formulate its own policies of independent action so long as the net result does not “disturb the existence of a single spiritual community” or threaten the “indissoluble unity and brotherly love of our peoples.”
This statement has profound policy implications. The patriarch implies that the needs of the larger Russian-Orthodox commonwealth take priority over specific national goals. Presumably, in order to ensure the “strong preservation of the unity” of the various fraternal peoples, close economic, political, and military ties should characterize the state-to-state relations between the various republics, with some sort of mechanism being set up to coordinate and formulate joint policies. Given the anti-Western rhetoric that has been a feature of church declarations in the past year, one could even envision a strong denunciation by church leaders of any attempts made by former Soviet republics, especially those with a large Orthodox population, to enter into Western military and economic associations such as NATO, on the grounds that such actions, by dividing the unified spiritual community, precipitate the sin of schism.^[22] A clue to Aleskii's thinking was revealed last year, after Western leaders voiced criticisms of the proposed Russo-Belorussian Union as a first step towards the eventual recreation of the USSR: “When an integration process takes place in the West, it's natural, up to a single currency and a visa exemption regime, but when two Orthodox peoples are going to unify, all powers of hell rise to prevent this.”^[23] What the Patriarch has sketched out in broad, idealistic terms, politicians are attempting to bring to fruition in terms of actual policy initiatives. In Ukraine, for example, in July 2000 a group of parliamentary deputies formed a faction to explicitly work for the integration of Russia, Ukraine, and Belarus'. Pavlo Baulin, the parliamentary initiator of the organization, declared in a statement that “We see Ukraine's way out of a historical impasse in a union with the peoples of Belarus and Russia and other peoples who have historically linked their destiny with Orthodox-Slav statehood. Only by pooling our material, intellectual and spiritual resources will we be able in a short time to revive Ukraine as a rich and prospering republic.”^[24] Even if such political ventures attract only a fraction of support from politicians and the voting public, it nevertheless demonstrates the continuing attraction that reintegration along East Slav/Orthodox lines provides.
Such thinking can also be seen in the linguistic policies of the Patriarchate. Certainly, in some ethnically non-Russian regions, missionary work and liturgical services might be conducted in the local vernacular, and grudging permission, of a sort, has been given to some parishes in Ukraine to use the modern vernacular. For the most part, however, unlike its Balkan Slav counterparts, the Russian Orthodox Church continues to cling to the Old Church Slavonic usages, resisting calls to introduce new versions of the liturgy in modern Russian speech. Like the medieval Roman Catholic Church, which saw in the use of Latin the basis for safeguarding the unity of the Western Church, the current insistence that Slavonic be used in most parishes in the Moscow Patriarchate, while perhaps rendering the services partially unintelligible to the worshippers, nevertheless ensures that the Divine Liturgy that is served, whether in Minsk, Astana, Vilnius, Poltava, or Vladivostok, follows the same pattern and reinforces the sense of uniformity within the Patriarchate.
In the words of Father Georgi Edelshtein, the Russian Orthodox Church is the “last” Soviet institution, inasmuch as its parishes and dioceses continue to look to Moscow for guidance and support. It is the only mass-based institution left in the former Soviet Union that continues to hold together in a single organization a diverse population divided among a number of states. With the disappearance of the CPSU, with the CIS possessing no army or civil service, with the “Unified Team” of Olympic champions disbanded, only the Church (along with ORT) provides a base of common reference for the bulk of the populations that once comprised the USSR. For the past decade, it has resisted efforts (albeit not with complete success in Ukraine and Estonia) to transform itself from a unitary organization into a loose association of national-republican jurisdictions. Now, the Orthodox Church waits, to see whether its stance will be proven correct. “The time of disunity is over,” the Patriarch proclaimed in December 1999.^[25] It remains to be seen whether his optimism is justified or not.