As Russian and British clerics concur and spar, Middle Eastern ghosts loom

By ERASMUS

RELATIONS between the secular authorities of Britain and Russia have rarely been so tense, to judge by the thundering rhetoric used this month by Theresa May. Denouncing the Kremlin for “weaponising information” and using dirty tricks to subvert British democracy, the British prime minister declared on November 13th: “I have a very simple message for Russia. We know what you are doing and you will not succeed.” At a meeting with European leaders on November 24th, she renewed calls to resist the influence of Russia, a “hostile state”, over its former satellites in central Europe.

Yet only this week, senior figures from other parts of the two countries’ establishments had a generally cordial meeting in Moscow in which they concurred about a global issue close to their hearts. One was Archbishop Justin Welby, the leader of the Anglican church. The other was Patriarch Kirill of Moscow, head of the Russian Orthodox church. And the matter on which they agreed was the woes of Christians from the Middle East, both those in flight and those still living in zones of strife.

That was the main topic of a joint statement issued by the two clerics, who declared: “Our hearts are pained by the mass exodus of the Christian population from those places where the good news [of Christ] began to be spread throughout the Christian world.”

As reported by the Church Times, an Anglican journal, the cordiality was mingled with some faintly acerbic exchanges. The Patriarch compared his own church’s erstwhile Soviet captivity (which required it to abstain from any criticism of the atheist regime) with the present situation of England’s church, which to pious Russian eyes now looks powerless to resist the tide of godless secularism and moral experimentation. In an obvious reference to same-sex marriage, which the Church of England opposed but has quietly accepted as the law of the land, Archbishop Welby replied that it could indeed be hard at times to take a critical stand that appeared to contradict the outcome of a democratic process.

The Russian prelate also issued a sharp denunciation of the recent removal of some churches in Ukraine from his jurisdiction, which nonetheless remains the most widely organised religious institution on Ukrainian soil. Archbishop Welby, whose homeland has sanctioned Russia for its behaviour in Ukraine, promised to study the matter.

The clerical diplomats who drafted their bosses’ joint communiqué must have been perversely thankful that on at least one issue, the faithful of the Middle East, there seemed to be complete unanimity.

Historically a professed interest in the fate of Middle Eastern Christians has not always put Britain and Russia on the same side, however. In the 19th century, Russia vied with the west European powers for the role of protector of the Christian subjects of the Ottoman empire. Russia used the issue to challenge Ottoman power, while Britain and France tried to make their Muslim Ottoman friends more Christian-friendly.

The ghost of that contest for patronage of the Christians has not been entirely exorcised. At the moment, Christians in the Levant find themselves under pressure to take one side or the other in a looming strategic confrontation between Western-connected Saudi Arabia and Russian-oriented Iran. With Saudi-Iranian contention over Lebanon close to boiling over, a Lebanese Christian prelate, Patriarch Bechara Boutros Al-Rai, paid an astonishing visit this month to Saudi Arabia. In a country where the open practice of Christianity is banned, the Saudi state media portrayed the bishop in all his Christian regalia, parleying with royal hosts.

As was noted by H.A. Hellyer of the Atlantic Council, a think-tank, the visit appeared to be a grand gesture by the Sunni kingdom to show Lebanese Christians that they will be better served by keeping to the Sunni side of an ever deepening strategic fault-line. In neighbouring Syria, by contrast, Christian clerics remain aligned with President Bashar al-Assad’s regime, and correspondingly with the Russian-Iranian-Shia coalition which has kept him in power. They have urged Western governments to moderate their hostility to Mr Assad.

Russia’s diplomacy in the region is not confined to backing one side. By all appearances it also has dreams of being the deal-maker in a new strategic settlement between Sunnis and Shias which will guarantee its role in the region. Involvement with local Christian communities has historically been a lever of Russian influence, as clearly emerges from the annals of tsarist foreign policy which are still perused by aspiring Russian diplomats.

Previous archbishops of Canterbury have been deeply involved in Middle Eastern diplomacy, as have envoys from the Vatican, especially in the 19th century when Ottoman power was crumbling and external powers were vying to replace it. On the face of things, all these Christian authorities had a disinterested desire to help their suffering co-religionists. But despite this common impulse, these concerned outsiders did not always sing from an identical hymn-sheet. Perhaps it was a little bit like that in Moscow this week.