Toward a Strategy for Engaging a Resurgent Russia on Democracy, Human Rights, and Religious Liberty

The promotion of democracy, human rights, and religious liberty is a worthy cause. This is especially the case when a country has been identified as one of “Particular Concern.”¹ However, when the regime you are engaging has invaded the territorial sovereignty of its neighbor (Ukraine, a US ally that is also the only Partnership for Peace member that has contributed to all NATO-led operations), and is also on the brink of war with another one of your alliance members (Turkey) over the shooting down of one of its aircraft, and further that the Pentagon advises quadrupling military spending in the region to help deter this regime’s aggression, it seems that the promotion of religious, civil, and political liberties is hardly a primary concern.

The situation is further complicated when the domestic politics of the country of concern, Russia, have taken an illiberal turn. Democracy, human rights, and religious freedom are generally seen as imposed ideas from the West not compatible with Russian political culture or as part of a “third column” intended to destabilize if not topple the current regime. These sentiments are indeed reflected from both ordinary citizens—less than two percent view relations with the US as “friendly” or “good neighborly” (Levada 2015)—and from the highest level of power, which recently named NATO as an “adversary” (Russian Ministry of Defense 2015).

Given these tensions, what actions (if any) can the US take to protect and promote democracy, human rights, and religious liberty in Russia? In the pages of this journal a few years earlier, Ziya Meral cautioned that the promotion of religious freedom is a dangerous occupation: “Advocates tackle specific real life dramas of torture, intimidation, rape, and death.” He also pointed out, however, that “growing religious extremism and polarization in the world are making religious persecution one of the most common forms of human rights abuses” (2012, 25). Although a specialist in Middle Eastern affairs, Meral’s sentiments aptly describe some of the challenges in contemporary Russia. Over the past several years, Russia has witnessed hundreds of victims of racism and ethno-religious violence (Verkhovsky 2014, 121–131; SOVA Center 2015). Indeed, as SOVA analysts Vera Alperovich and Natalia Yudina note, even these numbers are surely vast underestimates, as such crimes are often simply labeled as hooliganism, with their true nature and motivation masked (2014, 8–9).

Our argument here is that Russia must still be held accountable for its domestic failings in the areas of democracy, human rights, and religious freedom. And secondly, we believe that a change in Russia’s foreign policy will only occur if the political system itself changes course, returning to the path it embarked upon in the early 1990s when democratic elections were held at all levels, the media were not state-controlled, there was greater space for civil society organizations to grow and flourish, and religious freedom—as guaranteed by the 1993 Constitution—was promised, if not always actually upheld. However, we also recognize that these changes are impossible to impose from abroad. Thus the million-ruble question, if you will, is how does the international community in general, and the US in particular, promote such a change?

We approach this question in two ways. First by detailing the nature of religious freedom in contemporary Russia, how it has transformed since the collapse of the Soviet Union, and identifying the challenges facing religious communities at risk. Next we lay out several strategies of engagement, some cautious and some more ambitious. As with many, we hope that constructive engagement with Russia can lead to a turn in our foreign policies that encourage greater mutual understanding and respect for each other’s traditions.

Russia’s Failed Experiment with Religious Freedom

Like democracy, religious freedom in Russia today is in decline, but this transition has not been altogether linear. The brief window from 1988—the millennial jubilee of the Russian Orthodox Church—to 1993, when the Russian Federation ratified by popular vote its post-Soviet Constitution, was a heady one. In just five short years religious belief went from being officially proscribed to constitutionally guaranteed. The number of professed atheists in society plummeted, and believers came out publicly or began to experiment with religious belief for the first time (Marsh 2011; Koesel 2014).

The following five years were more problematic as Russia began to encounter what a society with religious freedom actually looks like—that is, the attendant unattractiveness (to some) of Hare Krishna devotees passing out literature on the streets while Jehovah’s Witnesses stood at metro stations handing out tracts and Bibles. Not all Russians were welcoming of such a diverse religious marketplace, including many leaders of the Russian Orthodox Church who saw growing pluralism as an attack on Russia’s traditional religions. Speaking already in 1996, then-Metropolitan (now Patriarch) Kirill of Smolensk and Kaliningrad addressed the missionary activities his country was experiencing: “We expected that our fellow Christians would support and help our own missionary service. In reality, however, they have started fighting with our church, like boxers in a ring with pumped-up muscles, delivering blows” (Metropolitan Kirill of Smolensk 1999, 73; but also see Fagan 2013 on the exaggeration of foreign missionaries). Thus, by the mid-1990s, many non-Orthodox Christians were depicted not only as religious newcomers, but also as latent threats to the Orthodox Church and Russian culture.

By 1997, a new federal law on freedom of religion and conscience was passed, naming Judaism, Islam, Buddhism, and Orthodox Christianity as the four traditional religions of Russia. The new legal arrangement distinguished between Russia’s traditional and non-traditional religions and sects, affording special privileges to the former, and varying degrees of rights for the latter. Recognizing in its preamble, “the special contribution of Orthodoxy to the history of Russia and to the establishment and development of Russia’s spirituality and culture,” the 1997 law gave the Orthodox Church full legal privileges, and awarded it certain financial and material benefits, in many ways tantamount to establishment. Other religions would be permitted to operate in Russia, but the four would receive particular benefits while the others would be subject to greater scrutiny and restrictions. The heady days of religious freedom and unrestricted religious pluralism were coming to a rapid close.

The 1997 law fundamentally altered the Russian model of religion–state relations from one of separation to one that would over the years rather quickly gravitate toward a model of religious establishment for the Russian Orthodox Church (Garrard and Garrard 2008; Fagan 2013; Marsh 2013; Richters 2013). Thus, the passage of the new law was perhaps the most critical point in Russia’s return to the status quo ante, that is, to a situation in which the Russian Orthodox Church is more than just first among equals in Russia, but actually stands next to the state as its own equal. Of course, full religious liberty had never materialized even before the passing of the 1997 law, but that fateful act symbolized an abandonment of the ideal itself. If religious liberties had been curtailed under a law and constitution that had guaranteed them, what chance was there for full religious equality under a law that developed a hierarchy of preferred religions and offered quasi-establishment to the Russian Orthodox Church? (Blitt 2008)

It was not until Vladimir Putin’s rise and consolidation of power that the situation became significantly worse for democracy, human rights, and religious freedom. Putin’s brand of populism mixed with nationalism, Orthodox Christianity, and anti-Western sentiments stoked the fires of xenophobia and extremism, as some tried to cling to a narrative of Russia’s past that was neither accurate nor tenable in the modern world, and one which excluded—or demonized—the “others” constantly at Russia’s doorstep, whether Jews, Muslims, or “sects” (as many Protestant denominations are pejoratively labeled). Putin’s politics of anti-Westernism and traditional values fell on fertile soil in a country reeling from a decade of difficult reforms.

While Russia continues to function under the 1993 Constitution, a legal foundation that clearly defines Russia as a secular state and whose political institutions and legal structures are to be devoid of ideological and religious influences, the events of the past two decades have shattered that illusion. Indeed, Putin himself even rejects the idea. When asked if he thought that bestowing privileges on the Russian Orthodox Church violated Russia’s status as a secular state, the president responded: “This is not the case [Russia is not a secular state]: The law states that Russia has four traditional religions” (cited in Blitt 2008, 734).

Such an interpretation of the country’s laws has allowed Orthodox Christianity to expand into many facets of Russian political, economic, and social life, and take advantage of its close relationship to the Kremlin and the Duma. The Orthodox Church has been on the receiving end of various state subsidies for the reconstruction of historic Orthodox churches destroyed during the Soviet era. While we do not dispute the importance of historical preservation or that the state should play a leading role in it, the Russian government has actively funded the construction of new Orthodox churches. One of the more recent state-sponsored campaigns has been designed to build churches “within walking distance” of where most Russians live (see, e.g. “200 Hramov” 2012). Moreover, these churches are often given prime real estate by the state, such as parks and or playgrounds, while other religious groups fight long legal battles to reclaim lost property and construct religious buildings with their own money, on land they have already purchased. A second notable privilege of the Church has been the introduction, in 2002, of an 11-year core curriculum on “Fundamentals of Orthodox Culture” into the public schools (Lisovskaya 2010; see also Lisovskaya and Karpov 2010). This course primarily introduces students to Orthodox Christianity, and only a handful of minority regions have launched initiatives to teach parallel courses for students of other faiths (Koesel 2014).

The expanding role of the Russian Orthodox Church is visible in other arenas. In 2009 military chaplains were introduced, but unlike in the West where they serve military officers and represent a multitude of religious denominations, in Russia they are almost solely Orthodox clergy who are sent by the Church to serve military units. The Church also assigns protector-saints to the Strategic Rocket Forces and individual tank battalions, religious symbols are visible in official and un-official military/security capacities, Orthodox chapels have been built in train stations and even on the premises of Russian governmental agencies, including Federal Security Service headquarters in Moscow (Koesel 2014). And of course, there is also the active involvement of the Patriarch in the inaugural ceremonies of all the post-Soviet presidents (which curiously resemble tsarist coronations).

While these activities may be dismissed as mere ceremony or the return of cultural traditions and not evidence of the state establishment of Orthodox Christianity, two other events clearly signal a dangerously close collusion between secular and sacred authority. One is the Russian Orthodox Church’s access to draft legislation prepared for the Duma so that Church leaders may provide commentary before legislation is debated. The other is the collaborative agreement between the Orthodox Church and Ministry of Health on “women’s reproductive health, the promotion of family values, and the prevention of abortion” (Provoslavie.ru 2015). While far from exhaustive, these examples demonstrate that the Church is rapidly developing into a de facto established church.

At the same time, the quasi-establishment of the Russian Orthodox Church is only part of the story in understanding the complexity of religious freedom in Russia. Orthodoxy’s primacy often comes at the expense of other religions, especially those that are seen as competitors. Among those often deemed as the most dangerous include a number of Protestant denominations, such as Jehovah’s Witnesses, Seventh-Day Adventists, the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints (LDS), Pentecostal and charismatic-leaning churches. However, Catholics and other Protestant denominations, clergy, and lay-believers are also discriminated against, including Lutherans, Baptists, and Methodists, to say nothing of the plight of non-Christians, including Jews, Buddhists, Baha’i, and Muslims. Here, it is also important to note that while many of these groups are viewed as direct competitors of the Russian Orthodox Church, they represent a small minority. Non-Orthodox Christians, for instance, make up less than five percent of the Russian population (Census 2012). Nevertheless, religious minorities tend to find their religious liberties directly or indirectly curtailed.

The Use of Lawfare to Curtail Human Rights

The violation of human rights and religious freedom in Russia today is being conducted largely as a lawfare campaign. Lawfare can be described as a deliberate strategy “to gain advantage from one side’s greater allegiance to international law and its processes” (Kittrie 2011, 396), which in this case would be the international NGO community. A similar dynamic is also common practice within the domestic arena of authoritarian regimes. Autocratic rulers use seemingly benign regulations and laws to repress independent civil society and maintain their grip on power (Sarkissian 2015). Rather than liquidating an NGO, which might cause domestic uprisings or international backlash, the autocratic state can threaten the NGO with tax evasion or fine it for violating building codes. In this way, the authoritarian state uses legitimate laws to systematically but indirectly violate civil society groups, including their rights to freedom of association and freedom of religious belief. The use of legal mechanisms to target and selectively restrict religious groups is present within Russia.

There are four pieces of legislation that make religious communities particularly vulnerable. The first is a 2002 law on countering extremist activity in Russia, that is, activity of social or religious organizations directed toward inciting “social, racial, nationalistic, or religious animosity,” among other things. The extremist law is very broad and is typically invoked against groups when there is a claim to a particular ethnic or social group or religion being either inferior or superior to others. The danger of the anti-extremist law is that religious groups may be inappropriately targeted. The SOVA Center’s 2009 report on freedom of conscience, for instance, identifies the misuse of anti-extremist legislation to attack Jehovah’s Witnesses, target some Muslims for their alleged connections to terrorist groups, and repress Falun Gong to preserve good relations with China (Sibireva and Verkhovsky 2010).

The extremism law has also produced a public list of banned “extremist” literature. This list, which is periodically updated, currently identifies 3,278 extremist materials, including Hitler’s Mein Kampf and the works of the late scholar of Islam Said Nursi, but also works on Hinduism such as a book on the Bhagavad-Gita, several publications by Jehovah’s Witnesses, and an open letter by the mothers of the victims of the Beslan school massacre (Russian Ministry of Justice 2016). Although sacred texts are supposedly exempted from the law, throughout 2015 thousands of Bibles being shipped into Russia were held up in customs for months with no explanation given, presumably because they were shipped by Jehovah’s Witnesses who have a number of items on the extremist list (Arnold 2015).

The second legal mechanism is the so-called foreign agents law, signed into force in 2012. The law requires non-profit organizations that receive foreign donations and engage in “political activity” to register as “foreign agents,” a term with strong associations to Cold War-era espionage. Once registered, their financial and economic activity is open to regular inspection. Critics point out that it is nothing more than a way of blacklisting organizations that the Kremlin does not like. Although religious organizations are explicitly excluded from the law, there is concern that in time those seen as foreign faiths (Protestants) or those with ties abroad (Muslims) will also be labeled as foreign agents with nefarious political ambitions.

Putin signed follow-up legislation in 2015 known as the “undesirable organizations” bill. Under this law, Russian authorities “are able to target foreign groups which they deem to present ‘a threat to the foundation of the constitutional order of the Russian Federation, the defense capability of the country, or the security of the state’” (Wall Street Journal 2015). Civil society organizations that do not disband once given notice are now subject to high fines and significant jail time. Critics argue that the terms are unclear and lead to a dangerous precedent (Hartog 2015). This direct link to national security threats further supports the idea that Russia is engaging in a lawfare campaign, “using–or misusing–law as a substitute for traditional military means to achieve an operational objective” (Dunlap 2008, 148). Thus far, those targeted by this campaign include Human Rights Watch, Freedom House, and Amnesty International—civil society organizations that are highly critical of the declining freedoms in Russia. Yet, the legislation allows for the possibility that religious communities may also be considered undesirable organizations, especially those seen as non-traditional religions. In this sense, legal uncertainty functions as a potent kind of control over religious minorities.

Finally, in regard to curtailing religious freedom and expression is the 2012 law on offending “religious sensibilities.” This so-called blasphemy law was drafted in response to the performance of the punk band Pussy Riot inside Moscow’s Cathedral of Christ the Savior, an act which Russian state-owned TV reported as funded by “some Americans” (Bennetts 2014). This legislation allows the government to punish individuals and groups for offending the religious sensibilities and feeling of others. Under the law, Russian citizens would face fines and a year in jail for “intentional” and “public” displays that cause “offense to religious sensibilities,” and up to three years in jail for desecrating religious sites. Again, the danger of such legislation is that there is no legal convention for interpreting what offends the religious sensibilities of others. Is the public slaughter of a sheep during the Muslim holiday Eid Al-Adha offensive? Does a Pentecostal tent revival offend the religious sensibilities of others? The legal ambiguity of the law played out in Rostov-on-Don. Russian producers cancelled their production of “Jesus Christ Superstar” after Orthodox residents complained the musical was “profanation” (BBC 2012). Taken together, these legal mechanisms form a cohesive strategy of lawfare that curtail the rights of freedom of speech, assembly, and belief in Russia today. Moreover, they cultivate a sense of legal uncertainty for religious communities, especially those that are not one of the four traditional religions.

Quiet Forms of Repression

One final challenge facing religious communities in Russia today is the quiet forms of repression. These are the day-to-day incidents of marginalization and discrimination of many religious groups. Quiet forms of repression follow a similar logic to that of lawfare and establishment—they create a sense of uncertainty and disadvantage for religious minorities.

Quiet forms of repression can come in many guises—they are the denied re-registration of a Baptist church because of a typo on the application; the misplaced zoning permit needed to break ground on a Baha’i center; the landlord who terminates the office lease of a Pentecostal church because her Orthodox priest warns against enabling “sectarians”; the journalists who provide inflammatory (and false) reports of Jehovah’s Witnesses supplying arms to pro-Kiev fighters on the border (Tushenka.info 2014); and the media portrayals of LDS missionaries as little more than “American spies” (Podsoblyayev 2015).

What is distinctive about such forms of discrimination and intolerance is that they are pervasive in Russia, but not necessarily systematic or coordinated. Nor are they evenly distributed among religious minority targets. Indeed, some religious minorities tend to face more challenges than others, including Jehovah’s Witnesses, Hare Krishna’s, Seventh-Day Adventists, and Pentecostal and charismatic churches. Such discrimination is further distinctive in that it is coming from both state and societal actors. In some regions local government authorities may harass religious minorities, whereas in other parts of the country it is religious leaders leading the charge. In still other regions religion–state and inter-religious relations are stable.

Finally, the pervasiveness and diffuseness of these forms of intolerance make them difficult for religious groups to prove and to counteract (Koesel and Dunajeva 2015). Moreover, even when acts of discrimination are explicit there are very few civil society groups in Russia willing to intercede on the behalf of targeted religious actors (Lunkin 2015). As Roman Lunkin argues, religious policy in Russia can be seen as “intolerant but not necessarily repressive.” He characterizes this dynamic as

a game of cat and mouse, when the victim does not die in the end and maybe is not eaten but is simply tossed and more because it has played with it enough. But in the course of the game the cat or the mouse learns and incarnates certain instincts. (Lunkin 2015)

It would seem that many religious groups have become the “mouse” and must adapt and negotiate around these day-to-day challenges of the many “cats.”

A Strategy for Promoting Religious Freedom

We are in a political moment where US–Russia relations are at a new low. The US appears to have little leverage over Vladimir Putin, and attention is primarily focused on military aggression and economic sanctions (Gvosdev and Marsh 2014). Yet, this is not the moment to simply shelve the cause of democracy, human rights, and religious liberty in Russia.

Within the contemporary geopolitical context, we suggest there are a number of practical strategies to promote positive change within the arenas of democracy, human rights, and religious freedom. First, and most importantly, the US must pursue a multiple actor, multiple channel, and long-term approach. Within the US government there should be greater coordination around issues of democracy, human rights, and religious freedom. In some policy-making circles there has been a “siloing” effect, where democracy and human rights are seen as distinctive from religious freedom. We would suggest that these freedoms are bundled together and that policy-makers with an emphasis on democracy promotion would benefit by having equal concern for religious liberty, and vice versa. Religious liberty does not and cannot operate in a vacuum, but is deeply dependent on civil liberties, including freedoms of association, assembly, and speech (Gill 2008). If these areas continue to be understood as separate (and unequal) priorities within policy-making circles, their actual promotion falls into question.

Second, given the combative nature of Putin’s Russia, any tough talk, moral condemnation, and forceful action are likely to result in a backlash not only from Kremlin elites, but also from ordinary Russians. Thus, the US must rely upon a combination of diplomatic and track-two channels of engagements. Within diplomatic circles, the US should articulate the political, economic, and security interests at stake and find points of collaboration. The reality is that Russian leaders have few incentives to address quiet forms of discrimination facing religious minorities unless there is evidence how it is advantageous to their rule. Here, diplomats would be wise to draw on ample scholarship that demonstrates the security costs of religious restrictions as well as the potential benefits of religious liberty. There is widespread evidence that restrictions on religious groups contribute to violent conflict, inter-religious instability, and terrorism (Grim and Finke 2011; Seiple and Hoover 2013; Saiya and Scime 2014; Saiya 2015). Moreover, research demonstrates that religious freedom is positively linked to economic flourishing, good business practices, and investment opportunities (Alon and Chase 2005; Grim, Clark, and Snyder 2014). Religious freedom, in other words, should be approached in a way that is politically and economically salient for Russian ruling elites.

Third, track-two engagement should also focus on pragmatic engagement, but proceed with caution. This is because the foreign agents law and powerful position of the Orthodox Church means that the overtures of Western NGOs and religious organizations may do more harm than good. Practitioners should be careful to demonstrate solidarity for these marginalized members of Russian society, but not stoke the fires of conspiracy or be interpreted as attempts at regime change. Although we argue that practitioners are careful in how they engage Russian civil society, we believe they have the potential to play a vital role building symbolic bridges and mutual understanding, as the recent meeting of Pope Francis and Patriarch Kirill in Cuba demonstrates. One of the outcomes of this historic meeting was a joint declaration calling for the protection of those at risk in the Middle East and North Africa. In spite of the theological divisions between these two churches, they are forging common ground around issues of mutual concern. US–Russian diplomatic channels should follow this lead. Despite our disagreements over the situation in eastern Ukraine and Syria, we believe there is enough common ground for our two nations to cooperate for mutual advantage, not the least of which is the fight against Islamic State of Iraq and the Levant and counterterrorism.

These strategies are practical, but they are also attainable. However, success will not happen overnight. Any strategy of engaging a resurgent Russia must be understood as a long-term project. If history teaches us anything it is that the protection of liberty is a slow and gradual process. It is also something that must be fought for (Gill 2008). Across administrations we must continue to be creative in our support for Russian civil society where and how we can, and strive to keep open channels of communication and find common growth, both with the Russian government and non-state actors. To be sure, this will not be easy, but it moves us closer to a sustainable strategy of engagement with Russia for today and the future.

Additional information

Notes on contributors

Christopher Marsh

Christopher Marsh is a Professor of national security and strategic studies at the US Army School of Advanced Military Studies. His research focuses on Russia and Eurasia, defense and security issues, and religion and war. His most recent book is Russian Foreign Policy: Interests, Vectors, and Sectors (2014), with Nikolas Gvosdev. He is also the editor of Special Operations Journal.

Karrie J. Koesel

Karrie J. Koesel is Associate Professor of Political Science at the University of Notre Dame where she specializes in the study of contemporary Chinese and Russian politics. She is the author of Religion and Authoritarianism: Cooperation, Conflict and the Consequences (Cambridge University Press, 2014). She is also an Associate Scholar for the Religious Freedom Project at the Berkley Center for Religion, Peace and World Affairs, Georgetown University, and a researcher for the Under Caesar’s Sword Project at the Center for Civil and Human Rights, University of Notre Dame.

Notes

1. In 2009 the US Commission on International Religious Freedom placed Russia on its list of countries in which religious freedom is under threat, placing it alongside China, Iran, North Korea, and Saudi Arabia. Since 2007, the Pew Research Center ranked Government Restriction on Religion and Social Hostilities involving religion as “high” or “very high” (Pew Research Center 2015). See also the Moscow-based SOVA Center’s annual reports and analyses on Freedom on Conscience in Russia, available at: http://www.sova-center.ru/en/religion/publications/.