The Last Patriarch

Of all the institutions that were lost when the Bolsheviks came to power, the most painful for many was the autonomous Russian Orthodox Church. In the early 1920s, in a desperate attempt to save this Church, its last Patriarch (until the present day, that is), Tikhon, was forced to take on the role of a compromiser, urging his congregation to cooperate with the Soviet powers.

Patriarch Tikhon — known secularly as Vasily Ivanovich Belavin — was born in 1865 in the Pskov region into the family of a village priest. From 1878-1883, he studied at the Pskov Spiritual Seminary and then entered the St. Petersburg Spiritual Academy. Having graduated in 1888, he became a teacher at the Pskov seminary where he himself had studied. In 1891, at the age of 26, he took monastic orders. He was given the monastic name Tikhon, in honor of the well-loved religious teacher Tikhon Zadonsky.

In 1898, Tikhon was sent to the far-off eparchy (the Orthodox equivalent of a diocese) of America and elevated to the rank of bishop. As bishop of the Lyublinsky, Aleutian and Alaska dioceses, he worked hard to spread the Orthodox faith in America. At the beginning of the 20th century, Tikhon, who by then had been promoted to archbishop, became an honorary US citizen.

In the year 1907, Tikhon was appointed to head the Yaroslavl pulpit, where his kindness won him the love of his congregation. The beginning of the First World War found Archbishop Tikhon already in Lithuania, as the head of the Church in Vilnius (which at that time was called Vilno).  After the February Revolution — on June 21, 1917 — the Moscow eparchy elected Tikhon its ruling bishop. And, on August 15 of the same year, the Council of the Russian Orthodox Church chose him as a metropolitan.

This Council has a special significance for Russia’s Orthodox Church, for, in November 1917, it decided to restore the patriarchate (that is, leadership by one supreme individual rather than by a collective body). Since the establishment of Christianity in Russia, the form of church leadership has changed several times. From the 10th until the 16th centuries (until 1589), the church was headed by a metropolitan; from 1589 until 1721, by a patriarch. Then an order from Peter the Great overturned the patriarchate, and the church was headed by a Holy Synod — a group of 11 of the highest-ranking priests.

In 1917, candidates for the position of patriarch were first chosen by a general vote, and Tikhon was among the three with the most ballots. One of the Council members summed up the general opinion about the three candidates. “The cleverest of the Russian archbishops is Archbishop Antony, the strictest — Archbishop Arseny, and the kindest — Metropolitan Tikhon.”

Then the Patriarch was chosen by lot. Slips of paper with the names of the three candidates were placed in an urn in front of the icon of the Vladimir Virgin Mary in the Cathedral of Christ the Savior. After a ceremonial prayer, one of the Council members drew a name from the urn — it was Tikhon’s. The short acceptance speech that Tikhon gave to the Council would prove to be prophetic: “My election as Patriarch is a parchment that says ‘weeping, moans and misfortune.’ And how many tears must I swallow and how many moans must I utter in the service of the Patriarchate that awaits me, and especially, in the present hard times!”

Hard times indeed awaited Tikhon, but he was always worthy of the trouble he faced. His contemporaries noted Tikhon’s humility, modesty and kindness. His diet was extremely simple, and he lived in modest accommodations in the center of Moscow. He was also an untiring worker, holding an average of 25 services a month. At the same time, Tikhon was firm and uncompromising when it came to matters of the Church. In his addresses during the first years of Soviet power, he called upon his congregation to refrain from “participation in political parties and acts.”

In the summer of 1921, a terrible famine raged in the Povolzhe region. Tikhon turned to the Russian people with pleas to help the hungry in any way they could and gave his blessing to the donation of valuable church property to the unfortunate. On the other hand, a year later, when the government ruled to confiscate all church property, Tikhon put up a decisive protest.

As a result, in April of 1922, the Patriarch was arrested and sent to Butyrsky prison. From there, he learned of the forceful confiscation of church valuables and of the resulting rebellions in Russian towns, which were answered by mass repression. Nearly 10,000 believers were shot, and almost 2,000 trials took place.

Then Patriarch Tikhon was forced to be the main witness in a “case” involving some Moscow priests. Tikhon understood perfectly well that it would be impossible to defend their innocence, as the authorities had already decided to send these priests to the firing squad. So he spoke the following words: “If an expiatory offering is needed, then the death of these innocent lambs of Christ’s flock is needed.” Then, according to an eyewitness, Tikhon raised his hand and blessed them. This was the last he saw of these priests, who, sure enough, were sentenced to death.

After being released from prison in June of 1923, Tikhon lived in Moscow’s Donskoy monastery, where he continued to receive all kinds of visitors — priests, bishops and simple people turning to him for a blessing or advice. His last years were very hard. Sick and almost blind, he continued to fulfill his patriarchal duties and even hold services. He carried out his last service two days before his death on April 7, 1925.

Tikhon understood that the Bolsheviks would not stop until they had completely destroyed the clergy in Russia, and in order to save the Orthodox Church, he was ready to do anything. After his release, he publicly declared that he was “no longer an enemy of the Soviet government” and called on all believers to cooperate with the Soviet authorities. After Tikhon’s death, however, no declarations of loyalty from church leaders could bring back the Church’s former power. Refusing to recognize the Church, the Soviet state actively encouraged schisms and disputes. For the next 65 years, Russia’s Orthodox Church would be subservient to the State – and struggle for its very existence.

In Brief

November’s most important Orthodox Church event – the Celebration of the Kazan Icon of the Virgin Mary – occurs on November 4. This day, marking the freeing of Moscow from Polish intervention in 1612, has been observed for almost four centuries.

November is also a big month in terms of political events. To begin with, November 7 marks the 80th anniversary of the October Revolution  — which gave impetus in this issue of Russian Life for several different articles offering a different “take” on the event.

On November 10, 1982, Leonid Brezhnev, the de facto leader of the Soviet Union since 1964, died. His name is connected primarily with the policy of détente and the strengthening of the Soviet military machine, and, later on, with the “period of stagnation.” As he became increasingly old and sick, the bumbling leader became the butt of many a joke. Brezhnev was unwilling to rock the boat by introducing any substantial reforms, and the Soviet economy ground to a virtual halt under the weight of excessive military expenditures.

Two days after Brezhnev’s death, on November 12, 1982, former KGB head and prominent Politburo member Yuri Andropov was selected to succeed Brezhnev as general secretary, a post he was destined to hold for just a little over a year. A ruthless critic of Brezhnevian stagnation, Andropov was determined to reform and purge the Soviet bureaucracy. However, he was plagued by kidney failure and succumbed to his illness in February of 1984, to be succeeded first by Konstantin Chernenko and then, in 1985, when Chernenko died, by Mikhail Gorbachev.

On November 16, 1933, diplomatic relations were established between the United States and the USSR after 16 years of a US non-recognition policy bore no fruit. The impetus for the US action appears to have been largely economic – in the throes of the Great Depression, the US hoped for an increase in trade with the USSR.

On November 23, 1942, Soviet troops succeeded in surrounding the invading German army near the city of Stalingrad (present-day Volgograd). This battle claimed tremendous losses from both sides but ended in a crucial victory for the Soviets. The German troops eventually surrendered to the Red Army in January of 1943.

Several key literary figures were born and died in November. November 3 marks 115 years since the birth of poet and translator Samuel Marshak (1887-1964). Marshak’s works are especially popular and well-loved among children, and his translations of Shakespeare and Burns are considered unsurpassed to this day.

On November 6, Russia will celebrate the 145th anniversary of the birth of Russian writer Dmitry Mamin-Sibiryak (1852-1912). His  novels about the emergence of capitalism in Siberia, mining and metallurgy and the customs and morals of the workers in the first Ural mines – The Privalovskiye Millions (1883), Mountain Nest (1884) and Gold (1892) – brought him widespread fame.

November 10 marks 155 years since the death of poet Alexei Koltsov (1809-1842). Koltsov’s poetry, which is influenced by folk music, brought him recognition and popularity even during his lifetime. Many generations of Russians have been brought up on Koltsov’s poems like “The Song of the Ploughman,” “The Haymaker” and many others, all imbued with a sense of harmony with nature and a love of life.

On November 25, 280 years ago, writer Alexander Sumarokov (1718-1777) was born. Sumarokov was one of the founders of Russian classicism and the author of a great many tragedies, satires, fables, comedies, odes and lyric poems. In such tragedies as Khorev and Dmitry Samozvanets, Sumarokov expounded his civic ideals, specifically that of an “enlightened monarch” ruling the people with a kind hand. For this very reason, the Russian tsarina at the time, Catherine II, was openly hostile to him and his work and looked on indifferently as Sumarokov lived out the last years of his life in extreme poverty.

In November, the art world also celebrates two important anniversaries. November 20 marks 130 years since the death of Russian sculptor Peter Klodt (1805-1867). Klodt is responsible for many of St. Petersburg’s most famous sculptures, including the four groups of horse-tamers on the Anichkov bridge (see the background for this page) and the monument to fable-writer Krylov in the Summer Gardens.

On November 22, 145 years ago, realist master Pavel Fedotov (1815-1852) died. His most famous works include “The Major’s Betrothal,” “The Unexpected Guest,” “Encore, Encore” and “The Little Widow.” To this day, Fedotov’s works dazzle with the mastery of their composition, their color, realism and completeness. Fedotov died at the very dawn of his talent, succumbing to his constant battle with poverty and the artistic censorship that did not allow him to execute his ideas. Critic Vladimir Stasov wrote that Fedotov, “died having produced in this world hardly a small grain of that richness that nature had bestowed on him. But this grain was pure gold and later bore great fruit.”

Turning to the field of science, on November 25, 110 years ago, academic and first president of the All-Soviet Academy of Agricultural Sciences Nikolai Vavilov (1887-1943) was born. Vavilov is known primarily for his work in genetics, which made him the object of attacks from an ignorant group of scholars towing the Stalinist line. These “scholars” not only hindered the development of Russian science, they also cost Nikolai Vavilov and his followers their lives. Vavilov was arrested and died in the gulag in 1943.