Through the deployment of religious symbolism and traditional rhetoric, the Russian state has not only institutionalized ideological conformity but has militarized spiritual authority in contemporary war efforts. The close collaboration between the Kremlin and the Russian Orthodox Church (R.O.C.) has perpetuated these mechanisms of power into the 21st century, shaping Russia’s political, cultural, and military landscape. The fusion of Orthodoxy and nationalism functions both as a tool of governance and a means of suppressing state insubordination, and together, they have pushed a patriarchal, authoritarian vision that moralizes the Russian-Ukraine war as a sacred and righteous endeavor.

Russia’s contemporary partnership between the Church and the State did not originate with Russian President Vladimir Putin’s rise to power, but reflects a long-standing historical pattern in which Russian political leaders have instrumentalized religion to consolidate power and legitimize authority through spiritual means. After the Soviet Union’s dissolution in 1991, Russia suffered not only a loss of its empire but also of Marxism-Leninism dogma, once the ideological foundation of Soviet identity [1]. The void was quickly filled by pre-Soviet Orthodox revivalism, as Russia experienced a strong religious resurgence in its search for national continuity and cultural stability.

Seen as an ally of the old regime, the Church quickly re-emerged as a trusted institution and moral authority, and in only seven years post-dissolution, the share of Russians who identified as Orthodox Christians grew from 31 to 53 percent [2]. The cultural uncertainty of the 1990s allowed the R.O.C. to rapidly return as an engaged actor in Soviet society, allowing it to reinstate rituals in public settings, rebuild churches, and re-engage with the public through printed publication without facing much discord [3]. In this process of national re-identification, the R.O.C. was able to culturally capitalize on becoming a central voice in post-Soviet Russia identity [4]. 

As the Church’s prominence and authority grew, so did its leader, Patriarch Alexy II, who eventually became the face of the 1990s religious revival. Meanwhile, Boris Yeltsin, leader of the newly independent Russian Federation, had approval ratings of 10 percent in 1991 [5]. With little public trust amidst hyperinflation, declining living standards, and separatist conflicts, Yeltsin embraced the Orthodox church as a partner, appearing at joint ceremonies, supporting the restoration of confiscated church property, and promoting Orthodoxy as part of the new national identity. 

Yeltsin’s relationship with the R.O.C., while neither systemic nor institutionalized, laid the groundwork for a new political strategy reliant on emotional and spiritual appeal rather than objective accountability. When Putin assumed power, he quickly utilized the public’s widespread support for Orthodoxy to legitimize state control, cultivating close relations with Patriarch Kirill and showcasing his religious devotion to political leaders [6]. In sharing mythic stories of his baptismal cross and regularly appearing in major Orthodox rituals, he cultivated a personality cult rooted in masculinity and messianic virtue. Religion bolstered his self-identification as a gosudarstvennik—guardian of the Russian state—enabling him to project his authority in a moralized, spiritually legitimate landscape [7].

In a show of good faith, Putin helped reunify the R.O.C. and the Russian Orthodox Church Outside Russia (ROCOR), which had disbanded during the Soviet occupation. By brokering and celebrating their reunification, Putin not only demonstrated his ability to unify the “Russian world” spiritually, but also gained a close partnership with the Church [8]. Under Putin, the R.O.C. grew in protection and prominence. Simultaneously, other religious bodies and nongovernmental organizations (NGOs)—such as Jehovah’s Witnesses or religions outside Christianity, Islam, Judaism, and Buddhism—have been criminalized and imprisoned under the pretense of “extremism” or “terrorism” [9]. 

Through the mutually beneficial relation between Church and state, Putin has utilized religion as a “truth delivery system,” where obedience to the Kremlin is synonymous with obedience under God. In this “post-truth” political landscape, objective facts and rational debate are overshadowed by moral imperatives, and dissent is recast as moral betrayal rather than political disagreement [10]. Putin’s legitimacy is further validated in tradition as he employs ceremonies, rituals, and symbolic references to Tsarist Russia. Sermons and state speeches echo state propaganda, re-enchanting it with moral urgency and sacred imagery. 

In framing loyalty to the state as a sacred obligation through religious rhetoric and dogmas, faith has been weaponized to legitimize military aggression, particularly in the context of the Russia-Ukraine war. One case pertaining to the Russky Mir (“Russian World”), a doctrine that has reframed imperialism as a spiritual and exceptionalist mission, portraying Russia as “at the forefront of the formation of a more just world order” and the rightful guardian of ethnic Russians across Ukraine and Belarus [11]. 

Justification for the invasion of Ukraine has often not relied on empirical knowledge, but rather on post-truth reasoning and appeals to “sacred duty” and a “holy mission.” Religious motifs and language have been incorporated into political speeches, legislation, media, and education. Such motifs produce a national identity contingent on a tradition-oriented past that often casts it in moral opposition to the West through a good-and-evil dichotomy. Traditional values are placed against the “obsolete” ideals of liberal democracy, reinforcing the war as a global fight against Western moral decay and ideological threats. Putin’s speeches openly critique Western political and military affairs, claiming that the Russia-Ukraine crisis is an attempt “to weaken, divide and ultimately destroy” Russia and turn its people “into a crowd of soulless slaves” [12].

Russians who challenge the “global fight for freedom” are considered to be questioning the fundamental identity of the Russian state, which is deemed a form of heresy. By this logic, Ukrainians themselves are branded heretical, allowing Moscow to extend its religious repression across occupied territories. Under the pretext of combating “cults” and “extremists,” occupation forces have conducted violent seizures of over 500 places of worship, abducted and tortured believers, and targeted communities deemed “undesirable,” whilst Patriarch Kirill continues to bless Russian soldiers and frame the invasion as a “holy war” [13]. 

By shifting the military conflict onto a spiritual plane, Patriarch Kirill has framed the war as “a struggle that has not a physical but a metaphysical significance,” sacralizing the narrative of the war [14]. This narrative holds notes of “denazification,” where comparisons are drawn between Nazis and Ukrainians. By claiming the goal of the war is to eradicate Nazis and fascists from Ukraine, the Kremlin links Ukrainian independence or resistance to the Soviet fight of World War II, which justifies targeting civilians, political leaders, and institutions as part of a sacred mission [15].  

This mission reflects the rhetoric of purity and tradition that also governs domestic life. Traditional gender roles have re-emerged, positioning men as defenders and women as mothers or caretakers, while feminism, LGBTQ+ rights, and other liberal causes are framed as a Western threat to Russia’s cultural integrity [16]. Both domestic conservatism and foreign aggression are sustained through cyber tools, social media, information and communication technology (ICT), and coordinated hacking operations as part of hybrid Russky Mir warfare, undermining European unity and influencing political outcomes across borders [14]. Disinformation campaigns spread rapidly through obscure sites, Telegram channels, and bots that amplify pro-Russian narratives. Such narratives allow the Kremlin to reinforce patriarchal hierarchy in both public and private life [17]. In this regard, Russia’s domestic and foreign affairs are united in their defense of the regime’s use of propaganda and traditional rhetoric.

Yet, the threat posed by this authoritarian and imperialistic regime is not religion itself, but in the manipulation of faith as a tool for reinforcing power structures, suppressing dissent, and perpetuating social hierarchies. Until this iteration of spirituality is recognized as a mechanism of political control rather than an unadulterated source of spiritual guidance, society will remain bound by institutionalized manipulation and compelled toward compliance.