Canon Michael Bordeaux writes:
FR GLEB YAKUNIN, who died on 25 December, aged 80, was an
inspiring figure for thousands in the West for a quarter of a
century. From him they learned of the relentless persecution of the
Church and his ceaseless bravery in opposing it.
In 1976, he instigated one of the most scandalous episodes in
the history of the World Council of Churches. In the early 1970s,
the Soviet authorities were systematically imprisoning dissidents,
including religious leaders. The previous year, the Soviet
government had co-signed the Helsinki Accords, which gave the
countries of Europe and North America the right to monitor each
other's human-rights performance. Yakunin, a veteran campaigner
then in his forties, responded by establishing a Christian
Committee for the Defence of Believers' Rights. Many Christians and
the Jewish community collaborated with him, sending information,
which he systematically collected.
He sent an appeal to the Fifth General Assembly of the World
Council of Churches in Nairobi, begging the worldwide ecumenical
fellowship to act on behalf of the persecuted Church. The African
editors of the assembly's daily newspaper, perhaps unaware of the
censorship that the Russian delegates exercised over the assembly's
agenda, caused a furore by printing the text of Yakunin's appeal. A
rushed resolution expressed solidarity with the persecuted, but,
reacting in horror, the organisers forced the assembly to rescind
it, promising to instigate a full inquiry into the facts that
Yakunin had presented; but, of course, later communist pressure
prevented this from happening.
Wrongly believing that he now had world Christian opinion behind
him, Yakunin increased his efforts. His energy was prodigious. He
collected more than 400 samizdat appeals, totalling some
3000 pages, from the whole religious spectrum, most of which he
sent abroad, to be systematically collected and many published by
Keston College, the organisation in Kent that was informing the
world about Soviet anti-religious policies.
The KGB arrested Yakunin on 1 November 1979. At his trial, the
sentence was ten years, five to be served in a camp, the rest in
exile. Eight years into this, when Mikhail Gorbachev was at the
height of his perestroika policy, he was released.
Gleb Yakunin was initially disadvantaged, since his father came
from an aristocratic background and died of starvation during the
Second World War, when the boy was ten. Gleb inherited something of
his father's musical talent, and learned the clarinet and the
saxophone. His mother inculcated the Christian faith in him, but he
abandoned it when he was 15, only to rediscover it while a biology
student in Irkutsk, Siberia, under the influence of Alexander Men,
who was to become the leading theologian of the Russian Orthodox
Church until his murder in 1990.
Fr Yakunin's life followed a different course. Whereas Fr Men
graduated from the Leningrad Theological Seminary, and developed a
low-profile teaching ministry, concentrating on a small inner
circle of disciples (until becoming a national figure during the
Gorbachev reforms), Yakunin was always more confrontational.
He attended the Moscow Theological Seminary, but did not stay
the course. He had borrowed a book by the philosopher Berdyaev from
the library when the KGB came to extirpate such works from the
shelves; Yakunin refused to give it up, saying that he had lost it,
after which he was expelled. He went on to study privately, secured
his ordination, and served in a church near Moscow.
Here, at the height of Nikita Khrushchev's new anti-religious
campaign, he began to collect information from around the regions,
documents handed to him by visitors who came to Moscow, often
seeking defence against the local officials who were closing down
their churches.
In 1965, with a colleague, Fr Nikolai Eshliman, Yakunin weaved
this information systematically into two lengthy and detailed open
letters, one to the Soviet government, the other calling on
Patriarch Alexi I, the leader of the Russian Orthodox Church, to be
more active in protecting it. They furnished hundreds of examples,
and wrote: "The mass closure of churches, a campaign instigated
from above, has created an atmosphere of anti-religious fanaticism
which has led to the barbaric destruction of a large number of
superb and unique works of art." To this day, these documents
remain an unsurpassed record of a shameful period in Russian
history, not least because senior clerics sought to conceal the
persecution.
Smuggled out, this information resounded around the world, and
undoubtedly persuaded Khrushchev's successors to discontinue the
church closures. Yakunin, however, became an isolated figure. The
punishment meted out to him came not from the KGB, but from
Patriarch Alexi (doubtless at the state's instigation), who barred
him from exercising his priesthood.
This gave Yakunin all the more time to develop his human-rights
work; so the punishment aided and abetted the "crime". He remained
free, however, until his arrest in 1979. From prison, he smuggled
out letters, particularly asserting his legal right to keep his
Bible, which had been confiscated. Ultimately Gorbachev sought to
correct the mistakes of the past by releasing imprisoned
dissidents, including Yakunin, in 1987.
The year 1988 was remarkable, with the nationwide celebrations
marking the millennium of the conversion of ancient Rus' in 988.
During these June weeks, Yakunin and his wife, Iraida, whom he had
married in 1961, held open house for religious dissidents, inviting
foreign Christian leaders in Moscow for the events to visit his
flat and learn the real truth about the persecution of the past 60
years, not the sanitised version as presented by the Moscow
Patriarchate. Meeting him face to face for the first time, after
having written about him for more than 20 years, was a humbling
experience for me.
Yakunin at this point might have expected a triumphal
reinstatement into the ranks of the Russian Church, or an award of
the Nobel Peace Prize, but neither was forthcoming. Ill-advisedly,
the Church failed to find a ministry for him. Had it done so, this
would have absorbed some of his considerable energies. By contrast,
he began to follow a more overtly political line, and was elected
to the Duma, the parliament, representing the Democratic Russia
party.
Yakunin headed a short-lived commission investigating KGB
infiltration into the life of the Church. This gave him a brief,
restricted access to the state archives. Here, he found in the
records of the Council for Religious Affairs, the body that
controlled the life of the Church, incontrovertible evidence that
exposed the collaboration of church leaders with the KGB, including
that of the new Patriarch, Alexi II. He was not permitted to take
photocopies, but made handwritten notes, which he subsequently
copied and passed to Jane Ellis, a researcher at Keston College,
who published them in its journal, Religion in Communist
Lands.
This was a bridge too far for the Moscow Patriarchate, which
wrought vengeance on Yakunin by un-frocking him, on the grounds
that clergy were not permitted to stand for election to political
office. There was supreme hypocrisy in this, as the previous
Patriarch, Pimen, had been a member of the Supreme Soviet of the
USSR, and his successor would be a deputy also.
As the Moscow Patriarchate regained its leading position in
Russian society, Yakunin's influence declined, but he continued to
subject the leading hierarchs of the Russian Orthodox Church to his
scrutiny. Late in life, he became the severest critic of the new
"symphony" of Church and State as established between President
Putin and the current Patriarch, Kirill. He supported the feminist
group Pussy Riot, when they demonstrated against this symbiosis and
received a prison sentence. He became a priest in the independent
Ukrainian Orthodox Church, later transferring to the uncanonical
Apostolic Orthodox Church.
Mental toughness predominated in his personal relationships, but
he relaxed with friends and, when able to travel in 1989, enjoyed
playing truant from a conference in Manila to go white-water
rafting. Here was a man freed from constraint, who was excellent
company, and revelling in his freedom.
He is survived by Iraida and their three children, Maria,
Alexander, and Anna. He died on (Gregorian) Christmas Day and was
buried two days later.
Canon Michael Bourdeaux is the President of Keston
Institute, Oxford.