The death this week of Patriarch Filaret at age 97 has prompted an outpouring of tributes celebrating his role as a supposed founding father of Ukrainian Orthodox independence. Yet these obituaries, however well-intentioned, omit a crucial earlier chapter: in the early part of his career, Filaret was not a champion of Ukrainian independence, either religious or political, but a Soviet loyalist who actively opposed it. They also overlook why, in his final years, he broke from the very church he had helped establish.
Without writing a separate obituary for this prominent religious leader, the following elements should be considered when assessing his role and contribution.
During the Soviet period, Filaret served as Metropolitan and head of the Ukrainian Exarchate of the Russian Orthodox Church – essentially Moscow’s representative in Ukraine.
He didn’t just occupy this position. In the late 1980s, as glasnost created space for the revival of the Ukrainian Greek Catholic Church and the Ukrainian Autocephalous Orthodox Church, Filaret opposed these developments, defending Moscow’s ecclesiastical monopoly.
His documented connections to the KGB, along with those of so many of his contemporaries in the religious sphere of those times, suggest he was deeply embedded in the Soviet system, which he would later claim to have courageously defied.
As the USSR disintegrated, Filaret didn’t position himself to lead an independent Ukrainian church. He went for the top prize: leadership of the entire Russian Orthodox Church. He was chosen as “locum tenens” – temporary leader of the Moscow Patriarchate – and stood as a candidate for Patriarch of Moscow and All Russia, the highest position in Russian Orthodoxy.
He lost that election. Only then did he pivot to championing Ukrainian Orthodox independence, resulting in his “break with Moscow” around 1991-92.
Think of his colleague, Leonid Kravchuk, who, as the Communist Party’s ideology chief, had enforced Soviet orthodoxy before reinventing himself as a Ukrainian national leader, becoming independent Ukraine’s first president at the end of 1991.
Both men had keen instincts for political survival and repositioned themselves accordingly.
Filaret’s subsequent work in establishing the Kyiv Patriarchate as independent of Moscow was significant. The institutional independence he helped create was real, even if his motivations appear pragmatic rather than genuinely patriotic. Just as with Kravchuk, he won the respect that covered up his previous murkier record.
The institutional independence he helped create was real, even if his motivations appear pragmatic rather than genuinely patriotic.
In his later years, he was faced with a major test – the 2018 negotiations over the Tomos of Autocephaly – formal recognition of Ukrainian Orthodox independence by the Ecumenical Patriarchate of Constantinople. The negotiations centered on a crucial distinction: would Constantinople grant full autocephaly, recognizing a fully independent Ukrainian Orthodox Church with patriarchal status, or would it offer the lower-ranking status of a Metropolitan, which provided autonomy but not complete independence?
Filaret demanded full autocephaly – nothing less. But President Petro Poroshenko, facing reelection and seeking quick political results, was ready to compromise. He settled for Metropolitan status under one of Filaret’s younger protégés, Epiphaniy, accepting a lower rank of autonomy in exchange for rapid resolution.
For Poroshenko, this was pragmatic politics; for Ukrainian Orthodoxy, it was still a historic achievement after decades of struggle. But it fell short of what Filaret and many Ukrainian Christians had hoped for.
For Filaret, it was unacceptable. He rejected the outcome. Was it simply on principle?
Those who knew him well have described him to the author as deeply self-centered and domineering. According to them, he couldn’t abide an outcome he hadn’t personally architected. And at this critical moment, when Ukrainian Orthodoxy finally achieved recognition from Constantinople, Filaret turned away and broke with the majority of his hierarchy.
Initially, in 2018, he had supported the unification of several Ukrainian Orthodox churches into the Orthodox Church of Ukraine (OCU) and the election of Epiphaniy as its first primate.
But the following year, it became clear that Filaret was unable to accept his diminished role, and a conflict with Epiphaniy erupted. Filaret sought to establish the Kyiv Patriarchate as a separate entity, effectively challenging Epiphaniy’s authority and splitting the newly unified church.
The schism Filaret precipitated weakened an institution that might otherwise have presented a more unified spiritual front during the nation’s darkest hours, which came in 2022 when Russia launched its full-scale invasion. His lifelong pattern had come full circle: the man who had adjusted to political winds couldn’t adjust to an outcome that diminished his personal authority.
History will rightly remember Filaret as instrumental in bolstering the independence of Ukraine’s Orthodox Church. But a complete accounting must also include his earlier role and his later actions.
A legacy can be simultaneously significant and troubled, heroic and flawed. In remembering Patriarch Filaret honestly, we honor not a saint but a complex human being whose greatest achievement was nearly undone by his inability to see it through to its conclusion.
But then, Filaret was a complicated figure who, like Ukraine itself, had to steer through complex times.
The views expressed in this opinion article are the author’s and not necessarily those of Kyiv Post.