Latest / The Romanov Dynasty: Rise, Power, and Bloody End — Fexingo History / The Romanovs and the Russian Orthodox Schism of the 1660s
Transcript
- Lucas: For anyone coming with us through these conversations about Eastern Europe, especially the Romanovs, we've talked a lot about the tsars and their wars, their reforms, their dramatic ends. But today, I want to step back to a moment when the dynasty was still young — the 1660s — and look at something that split Russian society apart from the inside: the Raskol, the Great Schism of the Russian Orthodox Church. Luna: The Schism — that's the Old Believers, right? I've heard that term but never really understood what started it. Lucas: Exactly. The Old Believers, or starovery, were the ones who refused to accept changes to church ritual imposed by Patriarch Nikon, with the backing of Tsar Alexei Mikhailovich. And if this episode gives you a clearer picture of that split, I'll be happy — because honestly, these are the kinds of stories that stay with you. If today was actually useful to you, the way we keep these episodes ad-free is listener support. You can find us at buy me a coffee dot com slash fexingo. Luna: Yeah, it's a small gesture that makes a big difference for us. And it's perfect for a topic like this — you really need focused, uninterrupted time to get your head around the Raskol. Lucas: So, to set the stage: it's the mid-17th century. Tsar Alexei Mikhailovich, the second Romanov, is on the throne. He's a devout man, very conscious of Moscow's role as the 'Third Rome' — the last true bastion of Orthodoxy after Constantinople fell. And he's got an ambitious patriarch, Nikon, who wants to standardise Russian church practice with Greek Orthodox tradition. Luna: Wait — wasn't Russian Orthodoxy already Greek in origin? Why would they need to standardise? Lucas: Good question. The Russian church had evolved in isolation for centuries, especially after the Mongol invasion. Over time, copying errors and local customs crept in. By Nikon's day, Russian scribes had been copying liturgical books for generations, introducing mistakes. For example, they spelled Jesus's name as 'Isus' instead of the Greek 'Iisus'. They also made the sign of the cross with two fingers — index and middle — rather than three, which was the Greek custom. To Nikon, these weren't just trivial differences; they were heresies that endangered Russia's soul. Lucas: So Nikon, with the tsar's support, launched a sweeping reform. He ordered new service books printed from Greek originals and forbade the old rituals. Priests who refused to adopt the new books were defrocked. Icons painted in the old style were confiscated. And the most visible change: everyone had to cross themselves with three fingers, symbolising the Trinity, instead of two, which symbolised Christ's dual nature. Luna: That seems like such a small thing to cause a schism over. Lucas: It does, but to the faithful, ritual was everything. These weren't arbitrary gestures — they were the very form of true worship, handed down by saints and miracle-workers. Changing them felt like betraying the faith of the martyrs. And the man who became the voice of opposition was a fiery archpriest named Avvakum Petrov. He was a brilliant writer, utterly uncompromising, and he saw Nikon's reforms as the work of the Antichrist. Lucas: Avvakum was exiled to Siberia, then to the far north, but he kept writing and preaching. He even sent letters to the tsar himself, begging him to reject the new rites. His autobiography, written in a raw, vivid style, became a sacred text for the Old Believers. He was eventually burned at the stake in 1682, but by then the movement was too large to crush. Luna: So this wasn't just a church squabble — it turned into a mass movement of resistance. Lucas: Exactly. And it got violent. In 1666–67, the Great Moscow Synod formally condemned the old rituals and anathematised everyone who followed them. That was the final break. After that, the state and church together hunted down Old Believers. But many communities chose death over submission. The most famous example is the Solovetsky Monastery, a fortress on an island in the White Sea. The monks there held out against the tsar's army for eight years — from 1668 to 1676. When they finally fell, most were executed or horribly mutilated. Luna: Eight years? That's incredible. What kept them going? Lucas: Pure conviction. They believed they were defending the true faith against a corrupt church and a tsar who had been deceived. But what's even more haunting is what happened after the siege. In the late 17th century, thousands of Old Believers — entire villages sometimes — committed mass suicide by self-immolation, burning themselves alive in their wooden churches rather than surrender to the authorities. They called it 'the second baptism by fire'. Luna: That's horrifying. But also… you can't help but respect the depth of their faith, even if it's tragic. Lucas: Absolutely. And the Old Believers didn't vanish. They fled to the forests of the Urals, to Siberia, to the far north. Some even went to Alaska later on. They preserved the old rituals, the old books, the old icons, in secret communities. Peter the Great tried to force them back into the mainstream by imposing a beard tax — Old Believers were allowed to keep their beards only if they paid a special fee — but it didn't work. Lucas: By the 19th century, the Old Believers had become a powerful merchant class in places like Moscow's Rogozhskoe cemetery district, and they played a huge role in the Russian economy. But they still faced discrimination. It wasn't until 1905, under Nicholas II, that they were granted religious freedom — and even then, many remained suspicious of the state. Luna: So the Raskol basically created a parallel Russia within Russia. Lucas: Exactly. And that parallel Russia survived the Romanovs, survived the Soviet Union, and exists today. There are still Old Believer communities in Russia, Lithuania, Romania, even the United States. They still use two fingers to cross themselves. So when we talk about the Romanov dynasty, we have to remember that from almost the very beginning, their rule was haunted by this religious wound that never fully healed. Luna: It's interesting — we've covered so much about the later Romanovs, but this early schism seems to set the stage for so much of the tension between state, church, and people that came later. Lucas: I think it does. The Raskol taught the Russian state that dissent could be crushed but never eliminated. And it taught the people that sometimes the only way to preserve your soul was to resist the tsar. That's a lesson that echoes all the way down to the revolutions of 1917.