The following article does not reflect the views of The Next Century Foundation, but we are pleased to include it as a contribution to what is an important debate on the significant role of religion in the Ukraine war. In due course, we will also share an NCF perspective on this important issue.
The author, Charlie Mackenzie Portlock, is Head of Programmes and Media at the Royal Society for Asian Affairs and Editor of East-West Review, the journal of the Great Britain-Russia Society.
Religion and conflict are two deeply human experiences that have often been inextricably linked since the emergence of the former. Today is no different, and with conflicts raging around the world it is clear to see that religion continues to play a role either as a proactive force or a co-opted excuse. Nowhere is this more evident than in Ukraine. But what is intriguing is how religion interacts with conflict in very different ways predominantly influenced by three key characteristics; the extent to which an organised religion relies on a state for survival, the theological basis on which a religion acts, and the personalities at the height of supreme religious authority. This has been laid bare by the divergent approaches to the Russian invasion of Ukraine by the Moscow Patriarchate and the Holy See. Just last month, a senior Vatican diplomat, Archbishop Paul Gallagher, visited Russia on a mission to promote dialogue for a lasting peace while Patriarch Kirill of Moscow has described Russia’s nuclear arsenal as being the result of “God’s grace and mercy”. Ultimately, this is a story of two churches, two relationships to state power and two very different capacities to be trusted as peacemakers.
First it is important to clarify the status of the two religious actors in this; first is the Holy See, the governing body of the Catholic Church and uniquely of Vatican City, the absolute elective monarchy of just over five hundred people that is headed by the Pope. This unique arrangement born of history lends the Holy See an internationally recognised state structure through which to conduct its activities; its own bank, the Institute for the Works of Religion, its own diplomatic service and its own network of international relationships that afford it such benefits as Permanent Observer State status at the United Nations. It is also the sole representative of the worldwide Catholic Church. The Russian Orthodox Church (ROC), on the other hand, is rather differently placed as the largest individual autocephalous (independent) Eastern Orthodox church widely regarded (outside of Russia) as a junior patriarchate to the Ecumenical Patriarchate of Constantinople, historically viewed as the spiritual centre of the Eastern Orthodox world. As such, the ROC lacks the state apparatus afforded to the Holy See and so it relies on “symphony with the state”, a close relationship with the Russian state through which it seeks to influence geopolitics and pan-Orthodox dynamics. Without the political and financial independence enjoyed by the Holy See, the ROC relies heavily on direct and indirect funding from the Russian state to the tune of 14 billion rubles (about $183–189 million) between 2012-2015 alone. To add to this, the ROC has to exist in a challenging authoritarian environment where appeasement brings benefit and opposition spells disaster, not a new dynamic for the church to navigate but nonetheless an important factor.
These structural contexts inform the tools available to each church, what shapes their motivations and how they conduct themselves. But that is not all. Equally important to each, and reflected in their approach to Ukraine, are their theological grounding. The Holy See, as with all conflicts, maintains a principle of “positive neutrality”, keeping lines of communication open to both Moscow and Kyiv so as to maintain its credibility as a potential mediator and a voice for peace. There has also been a marked departure from centuries of Catholic teaching away from jus ad bellum, the idea that defensive or humanitarian wars are permissible under strict conditions, toward an active nonviolence just peace model that argues that all war is unjust, creating visible tension with Ukraine’s right to military self-defence. This is in stark contrast to the ROC’s grounding of its approach in the concept of Russkiy Mir (Russian World), a fusion of political and religious nationalism that claims a shared spiritual and cultural sphere uniting Russia, Ukraine, and Belarus. While this is a Kremlin philosophy as much as an ROC one, the Patriarchate of Moscow reinforced its centrality in 2024 when it declared the invasion of Ukraine a Svyashennaya Voyna (Holy War) with the explicit aim of extinguishing Ukrainian independence and imposing direct Russian rule. This is perhaps the point at which the line between church and state in Russia blurred beyond recognition, completing a fusion between the Kremlin and the Patriarchate that has been developing, in its latest incarnation, since the 2009 enthronement of Patriarch Kirill.
Equally critical to this story are the personalities that lead the two churches. Patriarch Kirill is an ultra-conservative prelate and a hardline ally of the Kremlin. In her fantastic book, The Baton and the Cross, journalist Lucy Ash provides a forensic examination of his “unholy alliance” with President Putin and the systemic corruption that has thrived under Kirill’s patriarchate. It also illustrates the recurring historical theme of the ROC being stripped of its spiritual integrity to serve as a political weapon of control by the state. Kirill has consistently framed the invasion not just as a territorial conflict but as a cosmic battle between good and evil, Russia’s conservative authoritarianism versus the West’s sinful liberal values. This has only served to solidify his position as one of the primary promoters of Russian state policy, reinforced by his use of religious authority to rally domestic support and bless Russian military actions. The Papacy, on the other hand, has taken a wildly different approach. For the first three years, Pope Francis maintained the Vatican’s strict tradition of neutrality, often frustrating Ukrainians by failing to call out Russian aggression. He also drew criticism for suggesting that NATO could be in part to blame and for using the phrase “the courage of the white flag” suggesting that a premature cessation of hostilities would be preferable to a further loss of life, despite the geopolitical reality. Despite these controversies, significant backchannel diplomacy focused on prisoner exchanges and the repatriation of Ukrainian children forcibly transferred to Russia was undertaken during Francis’ pontificate. Since the election of Pope Leo XIV in May 2025, the Holy See’s approach to Ukraine has changed rather significantly with demands for an “authentic, just and lasting peace” rather than simply pushing for immediate concessions or compromises from Ukraine. A shift has also occurred in labelling Russia as the aggressor and highlighting the need for accountability, centering Ukraine in papal messaging and calling explicitly for the return of prisoners and children. These wildly divergent approaches to the conflict are indicative of the independent and flexible nature of the Holy See and the subservient nature of the ROC to Kremlin objectives and messaging.
Having considered the infrastructure of these two churches, their guiding principles and the personalities that shape them, what does all this mean for those fighting for their independence in Ukraine? Both churches have taken an active interest in the conflict, with the ROC focusing on militarism, domestic support for the conflict and the jurisdiction of the patriarchate, and the Holy See seeking to be the voice for peace, but stopping short of formal mediation. One of the central features of the invasion of Ukraine, from a religious perspective, has been the split between the ROC and the Orthodox Church of Ukraine (OCU). Having been under Moscow’s religious authority for centuries, many in Ukraine felt that following political independence in 1991, religious independence was the next step toward true national independence. This created a rift between the two churches that reached fever pitch following Russia’s 2014 annexation of Crimea. In 2019, Ecumenical Patriarch Bartholomew I, the Istanbul-based leader considered “first among equals” in Eastern Orthodoxy granted independence to the OCU triggering the greatest schism in Eastern Orthodoxy for centuries, not just between Kyiv and Moscow but also between Moscow and Constantinople (Istanbul). This division has only deepened in recent years, with President Zelensky advancing legislative efforts, such as bans on religious organisations linked to the ROC, aimed at completely severing ties to Moscow. This has had the result of hundreds of Ukrainian parishes previously loyal to the Moscow Patriarchate breaking away to join the independent OCU. Patriarch Kirill has continued to assert the ROC’s authority over Ukraine rooted in the ideological justification of Russkiy Mir. While this may seem a secondary consideration in the face of practical wartime considerations like supply lines, recruitment and military hardware, this cultural and spiritual shift will long outlive the current conflict and play a role in shaping the post-war relationship between Russia and Ukraine.
The ROC has also played an important role as a core propaganda and ideological asset for the Kremlin encouraging domestic support for the conflict. Patriarch Kirill has even invoked his religious authority to explicitly assure the Russian public that Russian soldiers who die fighting in Ukraine will have all their sins washed away and forgiven. This has been accompanied by thousands of priests regularly travelling to the frontline to perform rituals, bless military equipment, and offer spiritual support to troops, while local parishes actively raise funds for the armed forces. The ROC has also silenced any form of dissent within its ranks and used its political-religious doctrine to claim that loyalty to the Kremlin’s military objectives is an extension of parishioners’ religious duty. These narratives, as well as the claim that Russia is fighting a defensive rather than aggressive war, have been promoted internationally by the ROC resulting in organisations like the Council of Europe designating the church as an instrument of Kremlin influence and propaganda rather than an independent religious body.
The Holy See, in contrast, has taken a rather mixed approach to the conflict, condemning the aggression, engaging with both sides but stopping short of becoming an official mediator. The Pope is in the unique position of being able to engage with both Moscow and Kyiv, and has done so, but both sides have also reached out to the Vatican. In 2025, Ukraine officially asked the Vatican to formalise its mediation role in relation to the return of Ukrainian children and civilians taken by Russia during the war. The Kremlin, on the other hand, has lobbied the Vatican to stand up for the religious freedom of ROC adherents following the church’s prohibition in the Ukraine. Vatican diplomats have made various attempts to engage both sides of the conflict in dialogue with the Pope’s Special Envoy for Ukraine, Cardinal Matteo Zuppi making two high level visits to Ukraine in 2023 and 2026 and the Vatican’s Secretary for Relations with States and International Organizations, Archbishop Paul Gallagher visiting Moscow in 2026 to foster diplomatic dialogue and urge an end to the conflict. Despite these engagements, arguably far more than many other European entities have achieved, the Vatican has stopped short of becoming a formal mediator. While Pope Leo has repeatedly offered Vatican territory as a neutral platform, he has explicitly distinguished between the Holy See’s “voice speaking for peace” and the highly complex role of a formal mediator between geopolitical players that he views as unrealistic. Interestingly, the Kremlin has rejected the idea of the Vatican as a formal mediator, or even as a venue for talks, in part because it would be uncomfortable for a conflict between two Eastern Orthodox nations to be mediated by the Catholic Church. It is also worth noting that since February 2022, the Vatican has maintained its Apostolic Nunciature (diplomatic mission) to both Russia and Ukraine, illustrating its willingness to maintain diplomatic dialogue with both sides.
These examples suggest two very different approaches to this conflict; one constructive, one destructive, one flexible and one dogmatic. But more than that, it reveals two very different entities. The ROC shows what the results of state capture of religion by an authoritarian government can be, while the Catholic Church illustrates how strict neutrality can undermine pragmatic advocacy for peace. Arguably both approaches indicate that the degree to which an organised religion can remain independent of state power is central to its ability to pursue credible peace efforts. However, religious leadership can also be critical, were Patriarch Kirill to stand up to the Kremlin, most likely at significant risk to himself and the ROC, he could perhaps present an alternative way forward. Likewise, the Pope could weaken its commitment to neutrality and side with one party or another with the aim of bringing the bloodshed to an end sooner rather than later. It is difficult to judge what might happen in an alternative reality but it is clear to see that organised religions are not necessarily the monoliths they claim to be. They can be shaped by those that lead them, the doctrine they follow and the way they’re structured. More than that, though, they can be shaped or even co-opted by external pressures and in turn can influence warring parties and provide a platform for the expression of frustration and reconciliation. In many ways, religion can have a critical influence on the outbreak, conduct and conclusion of conflict.
