A Trans-Orthodox Convergence on Human Rights

Source: Public Orthodoxy

Evgenios Voulgaris and Platon Levshin— a Model for Future Greek-Russian Exchange and Rapprochement?

Dr. Vasilios N. Makrides
Professor of Religious Studies at the University of Erfurt (Germany)

It is well known that the current Orthodox Christian positions, either official or unofficial, towards modern human rights differ considerably. Suffice it to point here to the different evaluations of human rights by the Ecumenical Patriarchate of Constantinople under Patriarch Bartholomew[i] and by the Russian Orthodox Church in post-communist times, especially under Patriarch Kirill.[ii] This also becomes evident if one compares the related official documents of these two Churches: on the one hand, For the Life of the World: Toward a Social Ethos of the Orthodox Church (2020) of the former, and on the other hand, Bases of the Social Concept (2000) and Basic Teaching on Human Dignity, Freedom and Rights (2008) of the latter. It is highly interesting that the literature dealing with the different Orthodox evaluations of modern human rights has exponentially grown in the last decades, which a welcome sign. It shows, among other things, that Orthodox theology and thought have started to deal more systematically than before with a key achievement of modernity—especially considering that the overall relation of Orthodox Christianity with modernity lags behind for various reasons.

From another perspective, though, this intense Orthodox preoccupation vividly exposes a cardinal problem in the entire Orthodox world and its grave consequences. In actual fact, the Orthodox Churches appear not to be in a position to bridge their differences and formulate a common—but not necessarily uniform and identical in all respects—position on the issue of human rights. Needless to say, the same holds true for many other topics. The various problems and complications that surrounded the “Holy and Great Council of the Orthodox Church” (Crete, 2016) attest to this as well.[iii] To put it otherwise: the sweeping internal differentiation of the Orthodox world during the last three centuries due to its steadily growing nationalization and concomitant radical transformation has been a most serious challenge to its unity, while its multiple detrimental repercussions linger on even today.

Yet, in the post-communist era, there is another enhanced intra-Orthodox multifaceted differentiation, this time pertaining to the divergent Orthodox evaluations of the (post)modern world, the globalization process, and the gradually changing value and orientation systems. On the one hand, there are several Orthodox actors who view these developments from an open and constructive, yet at the same time critical viewpoint, with the aim to better place the Orthodox Christian witness within the current competitive and challenging pluralist environment. But there are also numerous Orthodox actors who launch a wholesale attack against these developments as a most serious threat and as a deviation from the right Orthodox path, having a defensive and introverted agenda in mind, as if these actors were the sole “faithful remnant” within a totally corrupted and pernicious secular world.

Nevertheless, this ongoing intra-Orthodox differentiation currently, particularly between—broadly speaking—“Greek” and “Russian” Orthodoxy, should not lead us to forget that there were earlier periods when actors from both of these Churches and cultures exchanged ideas and cooperated much more positively, fruitfully, and successfully. The 18^th century is a case in point, when several Greek Orthodox clerics and intellectuals found a safe refuge in Tsarist Russia from Ottoman rule and made there distinguished ecclesiastical and other careers. More importantly, these were in many cases able to variously contribute to internal Russian Church affairs on the basis of their wider, “ecumenical” Orthodox knowledge and experience.[iv]

This is not to argue that there were no differences or tensions between Greek and Russian Orthodoxy for various reasons,[v] yet there were also interesting convergences, at least in theory, on several issues. After all, we are talking about a pre-national period when the two Orthodox traditions were still not competing for primacy within the Orthodox world and complemented each other at many levels, although the Greek one certainly did enjoy the privilege of seniority and resulting supremacy over the Russian. Interestingly enough, this Greek-Russian rapprochement pertained to the treatment of religious dissenters, religious toleration, and generally speaking, human rights. Let us not forget that this was a most discussed issue during the Enlightenment in Western Europe, which put particular emphasis on issues of religious toleration and freedom as well as on human rights, criticizing both political and church institutions (especially the Roman Catholic Church) for their absolutist and repressive policies and authoritative strategies towards any divergent and marginal views.

It is well-known that the Western Enlightenment, although highly questioned, had a formative influence on Eastern and Southeastern Europe.[vi] An important Greek cleric, who selectively appropriated Enlightenment ideas and tried to bring them into discussion with Orthodox doctrines, was the polyhistor and prolific author Evgenios Voulgaris (1716–1806). Since 1771, he had permanently moved to Russia, where he was highly honored by the political, ecclesiastical, and scientific authorities there—among other things, by having been appointed Archbishop of Kherson and Slaviansk.[vii]

But even before, when he was active in the Greek area under Ottoman rule and in the German lands, he was particularly interested in the religious situation of his era and especially in the issue of Uniatism in Eastern Europe. This was due to the continuing aggressive and oppressing expansion of the Roman Catholic Church there, which portrayed Uniatism as the best way for the Orthodox to unite themselves with Catholicism, that is to accept the pope’s authority while maintaining Eastern Orthodox liturgical practices. In fact, it was about a policy had been applied systematically, especially following the Synod (Union) of Brest (1596).[viii] Voulgaris was well aware of the whole problem, thus he sharply criticized the forcible and violent means and measures used to lure the Orthodox faithful to Catholicism. Aside from his previous anti-Catholic works, he translated into Greek and published in 1768 in Leipzig a related anti-Catholic work by Voltaire while adding at this end a treatise of his own on “religious toleration.” There he coined the corresponding Greek term “ἀνεξιθρησκεία” for toleration, which remains very popular and is used widely still today.

No doubt, Voulgaris was not in total agreement with Voltaire and his sharp anticlericalism, who was a famous proponent of the Enlightenment at that time and was highly esteemed across Europe. More specifically, Voulgaris’ concept of toleration did not lead to a questioning of the truth claims raised by his Orthodox Christian tradition and was not meant to equate all religions and faiths whatsoever. However, it enabled him to gradually develop various ideas and strategies connected to the respect of basic human rights; for example, when dealing with people of other faiths (especially minorities) from a position of power.

All these ideas acquired a more concrete and practical dimension in Russia when Voulgaris was confronted with relevant challenges, such as reuniting with and reintegrating Old Believers and Uniates into the Russian Orthodox Church. Among other things, he was asked in 1793 by the then Chief Procurator of the Russian Holy Synod, Count Aleksei Ivanovich Musin-Pushkin (1744–1817), to write a “Memorandum” on the best ways to bring thousands of Uniates back to Russian Orthodoxy in the wake of the second partition of Poland.[ix] In his lengthy text, Voulgaris developed his own vision about a “true and genuine” reunification of the Uniates with the help of historical, theological, and other arguments,[x] which were related in many respects to what we may term today as “fundamental human rights.” For instance, he outrightly rejected the use of power, violence, and coercion as conversion means, even in extreme cases, out of respect for individual human dignity and freedom of choice. He also criticized Eastern Orthodox rulers, who had showed intolerance towards other beliefs in the past.

It is worthwhile to mention that Voulgaris’ work was partly continued in Russia by his Greek compatriot and friend, Nikiforos Theotokis (1731–1800), who succeeded him in the Archbishopric.[xi]  Theotokis was particularly successful in reuniting the Old Believers with Russian Orthodoxy following the strategy of “Edinoverie” (unity in faith), which was later officially endorsed by the Russian Church and state in dealing with Old Believers.[xii]

Fascinatingly enough, similar ideas were shared by the Russian Platon Levshin (1737–1812), Archbishοp (since 1775) and later Metropolitan of Moscow (since 1787), a learned hierarch who also selectively blended Enlightenment ideas into the Orthodox tradition.[xiii] He had close contacts with the imperial court as an instructor and preacher, making a significant impact on his epoch, also by supporting Russian political ambitions (e.g., against the Ottoman Empire). He was closely acquainted with Voulgaris over several decades. In fact, they both led parallel lives in Russia working towards it might be called “Orthodox Christian Enlightenment,” putting emphasis on the right use of reason to strengthen Christian faith and the importance of education and learning for clerics and society at large. In terms of religious toleration, in his Uveshchanie Raskol’nikam (Exhortation to the Schismatics/Old Believers), published in 1766 in St. Petersburg, Levshin gave instructions about the tolerant reception of their converts to the Orthodox faith. He also believed that faith cannot be compelled and supported the lenient treatment of dissenters from the Russian Orthodox Church and of other non-Orthodox faiths in the context of Empress Catherine II’s toleration policies within the multi-confessional, multi-ethnic, and multi-lingual Russian Empire.

Comparing the views of both Orthodox prelates,[xiv] it should be emphasized that they tried to come to terms in their own way with the Enlightenment’s universalistic human rights agenda and developed accordingly their vision about religious toleration, even if in a limited form. This vision was mainly grounded in their conception of natural law, thought to have been implanted in all humans by God and being universally accessible through natural human reason—of course, in harmonious correlation with the Christian revelation, which held priority at this juncture. The possibility of a natural knowledge of God, the understanding of human rationality in relation to God’s reason, and a thoughtful synthesis of reason and faith were of paramount importance for them, even if as a preparation for the reception of the Christian revelation in faith. No doubt, they did not go so far as to accept Voltaire’s or Locke’s indifference in religious matters, but they criticized the excesses of religious intolerance due to the inappropriate use of force. Both natural law written in the heart of every person and Christian revelation could mitigate against the use of violence in matters of faith. Tolerant positions were also grounded in Biblical and Patristic sources, as in the parable about the “Good Samaritan.”

In addition, their understanding of religious toleration was situational, considering the multiple roles and functions undertaken by various actors within a given state and society. No doubt, in their view, Orthodox Christians had to appear uncompromising in matters of faith. Hence, measures had to be taken against heretics and the potential threat they might have presented (e.g., through schisms or proselytism). Even so, the use of violence in such cases was still questioned as impinging against Christian love, human freedom of will, and liberty to believe and worship. Certainly, heresy was negatively evaluated from an Orthodox point of view, but it was not regarded as a civic crime that would legitimate a violent state intervention either.

Moreover, in matters other than faith, the Orthodox had to show respect, charity and care to adherents of other faiths as equal members of the same polity and manifest their claims about their “true faith” not via force, persecution, and tortures, but through their virtuous deeds and exemplary life. Faith was considered impossible and unsuccessful without the guaranteed freedom of the will gifted by God to all humans. Christianity was basically presented as a religion of love and grace, based on the example of Jesus Christ, regardless of if it had been often transformed historically into the opposite.

Remarkably, next to religious toleration, both hierarchs formulated a critique against other forms of authority, promoting a kind of “separation” between church and state in terms of differentiating the spiritual from the civic sphere for the benefit of both—the church from abusing its power, and the state from intervening into church affairs. However, this did not apply to the sovereign, who had to remain subordinate to divine law and accountable before God. Thus, in the end, both hierarchs basically remained attached to traditional ways of interpreting political power in the context of an Orthodox state.

Truth be told, the concept of toleration as a common concern was expressed by both hierarchs in ideal terms, yet it should also be placed in the wider socio-political context and the realities of their epoch, as it was not free from constraints and ambivalences; for example, when confronted with the subtle difficulties of “separating” the realms of  civic and spiritual power or when legitimizing the God-given human freedom of choice with reference to heretical or heterodox movements. As was to be expected, there were unavoidable discrepancies between theory and praxis. Not all Orthodox hierarchs at that time were tolerant in the same way, and the political decisions in Russia often involved forced conversions and violent campaigns against dissenters. This was perhaps unavoidable, given that the Orthodox Church constituted a powerful and dominant establishment within the empire.

To be more specific, Voulgaris’ concept of toleration was also in itself selective, as he seemed to show more tolerance towards Old Believers than towards Uniates. Although criticizing the harsh measures taken initially against Old Believers, Levshin supported the aforementioned “Edinoverie” strategy towards them basically in theory and was not ready to implement it practically, conceding it solely later and under political pressure. Furthermore, the views of both hierarchs were not identical in all respects, given their concrete ranking as court actors within the higher echelons of Russian society at that time. For instance, Voulgaris challenged the institution of slavery in general, as many Church Fathers had done this in the past, whereas Levshin was not ready to openly castigate serfdom in Russia, at least in his official public sermons.

Be that as it may, it is fascinating to observe how certain Orthodox thinkers of the past tried to appropriate moderate and mainstream Enlightenment ideas about the validity of universal moral principles in the form of human rights granted to every person by God or nature. Hence, the above very schematic comparison of their views on religious toleration and appropriate church practice points to the necessity to delve deeper into Orthodox Christian history and to try to locate its own specific sources about human rights in general. This examination should not be solely restricted to Christian origins,[xv] the Patristic era,[xvi] or the Byzantine period,[xvii] but has to deal systematically with modern times and in particular with the period of the Enlightenment when ideas about religious toleration and more broadly about human rights became most prominent. It is worthwhile noting that both Voulgaris and Levshin drew heavily on Patristic writings (Greek and Latin alike) and reinterpreted them according to the spirit of their epoch in articulating their own vision. This means that the entire issue needs a diachronic examination and contextualization that may help us to locate both continuities and discontinuities across Orthodox Christian history.

What is more exciting at this juncture is to reflect further on this fruitful trans-Orthodox exchange and convergence between Greek and Russian Orthodoxy in the 18^th century, which was not only restricted to the issue of toleration and human rights, but also included many other issues and domains. No doubt, the wide Russian support for the Greek Orthodox at that time was connected to concrete political ambitions and designs against the Ottoman Empire; for example, by getting access to the Mediterranean Sea. The “Greek Project” of Catherine II dreamed of a liberation of Constantinople and its reconstitution as a new Eastern Orthodox Empire with her grandson Grand Duke Constantine Pavlovich (1779–1831) on the throne—who, by the way, was given his first name exactly for this purpose, alluding to Emperor Constantine the Great, the founder of the imperial city. Orthodox Greeks did not seem to have any problems with this, while Voulgaris was grateful for the chance he was given to settle permanently in Russia and expand on an important, especially ecclesiastical, career there. He even called himself “Greek by birth,” but “Russian by inclination,”[xviii] while he entertained closest relations with Prince Grigorii Alexandrovich Potemkin (1739–1791), the mastermind behind the “Greek Project.” While in St. Petersburg, he was also extremely thrilled to learn that the Russians had gained control of the Ionian Islands from the French—including the island of Corfu where Voulgaris had been born—establishing the “Septinsular Republic” there between 1800 and 1807. Although the Ottomans were also involved in this political scheme, the Russian presence in the Mediterranean was interpreted by Voulgaris as an unmistaken sign of the upcoming liberation of Greece.[xix]

What is more to this: this Greek-Russian closeness was extended also to the domain of the Orthodox Church and theology. On the one hand, due to their long historical depth and historical experience the Greek Orthodox were repeatedly asked by Russians to offer their expertise on a variety of matters—the case of Voulgaris is perhaps the most prominent at that time, while one could find numerous other relevant examples from the past (e.g., Maxim Grek, ca. 1470–1556). On the other hand, this dependence of Russian Orthodoxy on its Greek counterpart should not be misunderstood or overestimated. Russian Orthodoxy was certainly a latecomer to the Orthodox world, but it also gradually started to “come of age.” In other words, it started to make its own contributions that were receiving wider recognition in the Orthodox world. This pertains, among other things, to a popular work by Levshin, an Orthodox Catechism, which was also translated into Greek in 1772 by a prominent Greek intellectual and supporter of the Enlightenment, Adamantios Korais (1748–1833).

Here it is about a process that would be strengthened in the next centuries, despite the rise of the various Orthodox nationalisms since the 19^th century, which put the unity of the entire Orthodox world to a most serious test. A case in point relates to the seminal contributions of the Russian Orthodox diaspora in the West in the course of the 20^th century. These did not solely enable a fruitful encounter between Orthodox and Western theology, but also provided numerous fresh insights for appropriately understanding the Orthodox tradition itself. The relevance and legacy of this Russian diaspora have been acknowledged on a pan-Orthodox level and remain unabated until today. More importantly, these contributions have been openly recognized by the Greek Orthodox side including by eminent intellectuals such as Christos Yannaras.[xx] Suffice it to mention here solely the towering figure of Georges Florovsky (1893–1979), whose influence on modern Orthodox theology (e.g., his Neo-Patristic synthesis)—including the Greek one—has been of paramount importance, the late Metropolitan of Pergamon John Zizioulas (1931–2023) being his most prominent Greek student.

It becomes then obvious from the above examples that the Greek-Russian theological contacts and exchanges, both in the past and in more recent years, exhibit numerous fruitful and productive aspects that have certainly had a beneficial impact on the development of Orthodox theology as a whole. This holds also true for the Voulgaris-Levshin case in the 18^th century, which is full of such and other rich and creative interactions between the two theological worlds—consider also the case of elder Paisii Velichkovskii, 1722–1794, and his revival of Orthodox monasticism and ascetic literature through the Slavonic translation of the Greek Philokalia.

Such instances are an apt reminder to an earlier period when the Orthodox world, despite numerous adversities and harsh conditions, appeared to have been much more united than it is nowadays, especially if one takes into consideration the growing theological estrangement between Constantinople and Moscow, mostly evident in their recent documents and positions, for instance, about the role of the Church in the (post)modern world. After an initial transition period in the 1990s, the post-communist Russian Orthodox Church has embarked from the beginning of the 21^st century on a continuous differentiation from the positions of the Patriarchate of Constantinople, not only in jurisdictional, but also in theological matters. It is, hence, not unusual to observe a continuing number of official Russian Orthodox critiques against Constantinople over all these years—among other things, calling in question its “ecumenicity” and accusing it of ecclesiological deviations from the authentic Orthodox tradition and practice.[xxi] In addition, the Russian Orthodox Church has become a global pioneer in defending “traditional values” with a strong conservative, traditionalist, and reactionary moral agenda and a concomitant vision of society.[xxii] As was to be expected, the whole situation was further aggravated in the wake of the schism over the Ukrainian Church autocephaly (since 2019) granted by Constantinople. It goes without saying that this is a most disturbing development for the unity of the Orthodox world with far-reaching repercussions.

The remaining and of course difficult question is how Greek and Russian Orthodox may profit today from the aforementioned long and rich common background in addressing contemporary challenges, not only that of modern human rights, but also much more broadly. Truth be told, the current silence at the official level between the two sides does not leave enough room for optimism, since their current relations have reached a very low, if not the lowest point. Yet, it is certainly an absolute must to always look back at history, not to forget it and to draw on examples that show the opposite direction—a process that may eventually become a source of inspiration for fresh and productive action in the future.

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This essay was supported by the author’s participation as Senior Fellow in the “Orthodoxy and Human Rights” project, sponsored by the Orthodox Christian Studies Center and generously funded by the Henry Luce Foundation and Leadership 100.

[i] See Ökumenischer Patriarch Bartholomaios I., “Orthodoxie und Menschenrechte,” Evangelische Verantwortung 9-10 (2017) 3–8.

[ii] See Kristina Stoeckl, The Russian Orthodox Church and Human Rights, London/New York: Routledge, 2014.

[iii] See Vasilios Makrides / Sebastian Rimestad (eds.), The Pan-Orthodox Council of 2016 – A New Era for the Orthodox Church? Interdisciplinary Perspectives (Erfurter Studien zur Kulturgeschichte des Orthodoxen Christentums, 19), Berlin: Peter Lang, 2021.

[iv] See Vasilios N. Makrides, “Ecumenical Orthodoxy vs. Confessional Orthodoxy: Evgenios Voulgaris and Nikiforos Theotokis Addressing Russian Orthodoxy,” in Kostas Sarris / Nikolas Pissis / Miltos Pechlivanos (eds.), Confessionalization and/as Knowledge Transfer in the Greek Orthodox Church, Wiesbaden: Harrassowitz, 2021, 351–374.

[v] See Nikolas Pissis, Russland in den politischen Vorstellungen der griechischen Kulturwelt, 1645–1725, Göttingen: V&R Unipress, 2020.

[vi] See Paschalis Kitromilides (ed.), Enlightenment and Religion in the Orthodox World, Oxford: The Voltaire Foundation, 2016.

[vii] See Stephen K. Batalden, Catherine II’s Greek Prelate: Eugenios Voulgaris in Russia, 1771–1806, Boulder, CO/ New York: Columbia University Press, 1982.

[viii] See Wil van den Bercken / Bert Groen (eds.), Four Ηundred Υears Union of Brest (1596-1996): A Critical Re-evaluation, Leuven: Peeters, 1999.

[ix] See Larry Wolff, Disunion within the Union: The Uniate Church and the Partitions of Poland, Cambridge, MA: Ukranian Research Institute, Harvard University, 2019.

[x] See “Zapiska arkhiepiskopa Evgeniia Bulgarisa o lushchem sposobe vozsoedineniia uniatov s Pravoslavnoiu Tserkoviiu,” Khristianskoe Chtenie, nos. 7-12 (St. Petersburg, 1887), 19–93.

[xi] See Gregory L. Bruess, Religion, Identity and Empire: A Greek Archbishop in the Russia of Catherine the Great, Boulder, CO/New York: Columbia University Press, 1997.

[xii] See James M. White, Unity in Faith? Edinoverie, Russian Orthodoxy, and Old Belief, 1800–1918, Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 2020.

[xiii] See Elise Kimerling Wirtschafter, Religion and Enlightenment in Catherinian Russia: The Teachings of Metropolitan Platon, DeKalb, IL: Northern Illinois University Press, 2013.

[xiv] In this section, I mostly draw on the excellent and detailed comparison of the lives and views of both hierarchs by Iannis Carras, “Understanding God and Tolerating Humankind: Orthodoxy and the Enlightenment in Eugenios Voulgaris (1716–1806) and Platon Levshin (1737–1812),” in Kitromilides (ed.), Enlightenment and Religion in the Orthodox World, 73–140.

[xv] See Nicholas Marinides, “Religious Toleration in the Apophthegmata Patrum,” Journal of Early Christian Studies 20 (2012) 235–268.

[xvi] See Susan R. Holman, “The Entitled Poor: Human Rights Language in the Cappadocians,” Pro Ecclesia: A Journal of Catholic and Evangelical Theology 9 (2000) 476–489; Cheryl Brandsen / Paul Vliem, “Justice and Human Rights in Fourth Century Cappadocia,” Social Work & Christianity 34 (2007) 421–448. See also the special thematic issue of the Journal of Eastern Christian Studies (vol. 71, issues 3-4, 2019) devoted to “Human Dignity and Patristic Legacy.”

[xvii] See John A. McGuckin, “The Issue of Human Rights in Byzantium and in the Orthodox Christian Tradition,” in John Witte, Jr. / Frank S. Alexander (eds.), Christianity and Human Rights: An Introduction, Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2010, 173–190.

[xviii] See Batalden, Catherine II’s Greek Prelate, 22.

[xix] See ibid., 89–91.

[xx] See Christos Yannaras, “Der Beitrag der russischen Orthodoxie zur Klärung der orthodoxen Identität,” in Karl Christian Felmy / Wolfgang Heller (eds.), Tausend Jahre Christentum in Russland: Zum Millennium der Taufe der Kiever Rus’, Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1988, 953–960.

[xxi] See the document approved at the Episcopal Conference of the Russian Orthodox Church on 19 July 2023 and titled “The Distortion of the Orthodox Doctrine of the Church in the Actions and Words of the Hierarchy of the Patriarchate of Constantinople.”

[xxii] See Kristina Stoeckl / Dmitry Uzlaner, The Moralist International: Russia in the Global Culture Wars, New York: Fordham University Press, 2022.

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