Russia is Waging War Against Christianity

There is a recurring pattern in Russia’s information warfare. The Kremlin rarely conceals its true objectives. Instead, it encourages audiences to look away from where those objectives are actually being pursued.

For years, Russia sought to convince the international community that its special mission was the protection of Orthodoxy, traditional values, and religious believers. Under these slogans, Moscow justified its interference in Ukrainian religious affairs, its opposition to the autocephaly of the Ukrainian Church, and ultimately its full-scale invasion of Ukraine. Russian diplomats, church structures, and propaganda networks spent years telling Western politicians that Orthodox Christians in Ukraine were allegedly being persecuted, attempting to create the impression that the Ukrainian state itself posed a threat to religious freedom.

On June 15, a Russian missile struck the Kyiv-Pechersk Lavra.

At that moment, a propaganda construct that the Kremlin had spent years building collided with reality.

The state that presents itself as the defender of Orthodoxy attacked one of the most important Orthodox Christian sites in the world. The state that claims to defend traditional values caused a fire within a monastic complex whose history spans nearly a thousand years. The state that portrays itself as the heir to Kyivan Rus attacked one of the central symbols of that very heritage.

At first glance, this appears to be a contradiction. In reality, there is no contradiction at all.

The problem is that this war was never about Orthodoxy.

It has always been about ownership of history.

That is precisely why the Kyiv-Pechersk Lavra occupies such a unique place in the Russian worldview. For an ordinary believer, it is a monastery, a holy site, and a place of pilgrimage. For the Kremlin, it represents something much greater. It is tangible evidence that the history of Eastern Slavic civilization did not begin in Moscow. It began in Kyiv.

And it is around this question that one of the longest-running disputes between Ukraine and Russia has been fought.

Modern historiography is based on a simple principle: the history of states is understood within the framework of contemporary political borders. The French do not regard modern Germany as part of their historical territory simply because the capital of the Frankish Kingdom was once located in Aachen. Russian historical tradition, however, developed according to a different logic. For decades, it systematically appropriated the legacy of Kyivan Rus and used it as evidence that modern Ukraine supposedly lacks its own distinct historical subjectivity.

This is why Russian textbooks devote enormous attention to Kyivan Rus, despite the fact that the state existed on the territory of present-day Ukraine. From this, a key political conclusion is drawn: if Kyivan Rus is the foundation of Russian history, then Ukraine becomes merely a “younger brother” with no legitimate claim to an independent historical path.

Within this framework, the Kyiv-Pechersk Lavra occupies a special position. It is one of the oldest monasteries of Rus, one of the foremost symbols of the Christianization of Rus, and one of the strongest embodiments of the continuity of Kyiv’s spiritual tradition. Control over the Lavra has therefore always meant far more than control over church property. It has symbolized control over the legacy of Rus itself and the right to determine who its true heir is.

It is no coincidence that following Ukraine’s independence, the Lavra became one of the focal points in the struggle for an independent Ukrainian Church. It was here that Metropolitan Filaret, one of the principal advocates of Ukrainian autocephaly after 1991, maintained his residence. When the Church Council supported the idea of an independent Ukrainian Orthodox Church, Moscow responded with maximum force. Filaret was removed, anathematized, and the Russian Orthodox Church launched a campaign to preserve its control over Ukraine’s religious sphere.

As a result, the Kyiv-Pechersk Lavra became, for decades, one of the most visible symbols of the Moscow Patriarchate’s presence in the heart of the Ukrainian capital. In practice, it served not only a religious function but also a humanitarian and political one, acting as an instrument of Russian influence.

This is why Russia reacted so aggressively to the creation of the Orthodox Church of Ukraine and to the gradual liberation of Ukrainian Orthodoxy from Moscow’s control. What was at stake was not merely ecclesiastical jurisdiction. It was the loss of one of the most important symbols underpinning the historical legitimacy of the Russian imperial project.

Viewed through this lens, the strike on the Lavra becomes easier to understand.

For the Kremlin, the Lavra is not simply a monastery. It is a symbol of a historical narrative that directly challenges the foundations of Russia’s imperial mythology.

That is why the attack fits seamlessly into the broader logic of Russia’s war against Ukrainian cultural heritage. Over the past years, museums, archives, libraries, universities, historic landmarks, and cultural institutions have all become targets. The damage inflicted on the Chornobyl National Museum, attacks against the Oleksandr Dovzhenko National Film Studio, and the destruction of historic districts in Odesa, Kharkiv, and Chernihiv all form part of the same pattern.

Russia is not merely attempting to destroy contemporary Ukraine.

It is attempting to destroy the evidence that Ukraine existed before modern Russia.

This is why attacks on cultural and religious sites cannot be dismissed as accidental byproducts of war. They form a coherent system. From a military perspective, the Dormition Cathedral poses no threat. Neither do museums, archives, or historic monuments. Yet all of them preserve historical memory, and therefore all of them obstruct Russia’s effort to rewrite the past.

In a sense, history is repeating itself.

On November 3, 1941, the Dormition Cathedral was destroyed by an explosion. To this day, historians continue to debate who was responsible. Some point to Soviet mining operations carried out during the Red Army’s retreat from Kyiv. Others draw attention to German archival documents and photographs suggesting the possible involvement of the occupation authorities. A definitive answer remains elusive due to the loss of archival material and the continued inaccessibility of certain records.

That historical uncertainty belongs to the past.

There is no such uncertainty today.

If historians still debate the events of 1941, the question of who attacked the Lavra in 2026 requires no further investigation. The attacker is known. The weapon is known. The state that issued the order is known.

This is why the strike on the Kyiv-Pechersk Lavra is far more than another war crime. It is further evidence that Russia’s true target is not territory alone. Its target is Ukrainian identity — historical, cultural, national, and spiritual.

And that is why the answer to the question of who blew up the Lavra for the second time is far simpler than the answer regarding 1941.

The Kyiv-Pechersk Lavra was attacked for the second time by the Russian Federation.

Text written by Orthodox Church of Ukraine (OCU) historian and theologian Liubomyr Slonets

Who Blew Up the Lavra for the First Time?

It is important to establish the chronological framework of the event. On 3 November 1941, sometime between 2:00 and 3:00 p.m. Kyiv time, the Dormition Cathedral (Cathedral of the Assumption of the Blessed Virgin Mary) was blown up.

There are several hypotheses regarding this event. For a long time, the dominant narrative held that the Dormition Cathedral had been destroyed by the NKVD or Soviet underground operatives. The Red Army left Kyiv on 18 September, and on 24 September explosions began on Khreshchatyk Street. Virtually the entire city had been mined regardless of residential neighborhoods or cultural heritage sites. For example, two tons of explosives were placed beneath the Lenin Museum. A German demining report contains the statement of a specialist who wrote that “had these two tons detonated, they would have destroyed not only the building itself but also the entire surrounding block.”

However, it should be noted that Kyiv was mined by several different groups. The branch archive of the Security Service of Ukraine contains information regarding only one such group, and the Dormition Cathedral does not appear on its lists. Other archives remain classified, making it impossible to state with certainty that the Red Army was responsible for destroying the cathedral.

Another hypothesis suggests that the cathedral was blown up by the occupying authorities themselves. This version deserves careful consideration. A major sensation emerged when photographs were discovered by Professor Wolfgang Eichwede of the University of Bremen in a family photo album belonging to acquaintances of his. Five photographs captured the process of the cathedral’s destruction. The professor later presented copies of four of these photographs to Kyiv historian Serhii Kot. Their publication in Ukraine caused considerable confusion because many people had long assumed that the cathedral had been destroyed by the Communists.

The photographer was positioned on a bridge across the Dnipro River — a pontoon bridge located approximately where the Paton Bridge stands today. The camera was directed toward the Kyiv Pechersk Lavra. The photographs show the Dnipro River, the bridge itself, and a patrol wearing German uniforms. In the first image, the familiar outlines of the Lavra and the domes of the Dormition Cathedral are clearly visible. In the second and third photographs, an explosion can be seen amid clouds of smoke. In the final image, the scene resembles the first photograph, except that the cathedral’s domes have disappeared.

This raises an obvious question: how did a German photographer — and we know that he was a Wehrmacht officer stationed in Kyiv — know the exact date and time of the explosion in advance so that he could record it on film? It appears evident that he had received a specific assignment. This circumstance clearly contradicts earlier theories regarding Soviet underground operatives. Nevertheless, some continued to argue that the explosion was captured purely by chance.

At the same time, German reports indicate that three individuals without identification documents somehow managed to enter the territory of the Lavra. A guard noticed them and immediately shot them. The Germans subsequently realized that although these individuals had been detected, future infiltrators might not be, and that they could potentially activate the explosive mechanism.

Experts familiar with military engineering and explosives point to the enormous quantity of explosives allegedly placed beneath the cathedral. Removing them would have been an extraordinarily difficult and highly dangerous undertaking. It is therefore possible that the occupiers concluded that it would be easier to destroy the cathedral themselves than to remain sitting on what was effectively a powder keg while waiting for saboteurs to act.

At the very least, there exists a document — whose copy is preserved in the Central State Archives of Supreme Bodies of Power and Government of Ukraine (Fund KMF-8, Inventory 1, File 38) — indicating that this issue was discussed in Berlin in October 1941. The document concerns an assessment prepared by Dr. Otto Bräutigam, an official of the central administration of the Ministry for the Occupied Eastern Territories, regarding whether it would be advisable to demolish the Dormition Cathedral.

Notably, the expert advised against doing so. He argued that the cathedral was of great importance to Ukraine and that destroying it could turn the local population against the occupation authorities. It is important to emphasize that the document is dated 13 October 1941, and it was likely discussed in Berlin several days later.

To this day, it remains unclear who ultimately destroyed the cathedral, as the relevant archival documents are either classified or have been lost. What remains are hypotheses rather than definitive conclusions.

What Happened in the Lavra During the Soviet Period?

The First Wave of Destruction (1920s)

The Bolsheviks confiscated church property, closed churches, and seized the relics of saints. Monks were forcibly organized into so-called “artels,” or labor collectives.

The Museum Complex (1930)

In 1930, the monastery was permanently closed. On its territory, the Bolsheviks established the “All-Ukrainian Museum Complex,” where anti-religious exhibitions were organized. Warehouses and workshops were also placed within the former monastic grounds.

The Destruction of the Dormition Cathedral (1941)

Following the destruction of the Dormition Cathedral and during the German occupation, the monastery temporarily resumed its activities. In fact, monastic life was restored not despite the occupation but largely as a consequence of it, since Soviet authorities had previously closed the monastery entirely.

Post-War Closure (1960)

During Nikita Khrushchev’s anti-religious campaign, Soviet authorities dissolved the restored monastery in 1960 and once again transformed the Lavra exclusively into a museum complex. Many valuable early printed books, icons, and metal artifacts were either destroyed or removed.

Revival (1988)

Only in 1988, during celebrations marking the 1,000th anniversary of the Baptism of Rus’, did the Soviet government permit the reopening of the Far Caves and the restoration of monastic life.

How Did the Independent Ukrainian Church Emerge, and What Was the Role of the Lavra?

It is important to note that the Kyiv Pechersk Lavra served as the residence of Metropolitan Filaret of Kyiv. It was from this location that the process of establishing an independent Ukrainian Church began during the 1990s.

Following Ukraine’s declaration of independence in 1991, Metropolitan Filaret convened a Church Council that unanimously voted in favor of autocephaly, meaning full ecclesiastical independence for the Ukrainian Church. With this decision, he traveled to Moscow. However, before arriving, he learned that he had already been excommunicated and placed under anathema, thereby being prohibited from carrying out ecclesiastical ministry.

Moscow rejected the decision, removed Filaret from office, and established the Ukrainian Orthodox Church of the Moscow Patriarchate under its control. Administration of the Lavra was transferred to Metropolitan Volodymyr. As a result, for many years — until 2022 — the Kyiv Pechersk Lavra became a symbol of Moscow’s religious presence in the capital of Ukraine.

The formation of an independent Local Orthodox Church in Ukraine has been a long-term process of liberation from Moscow’s religious control. Throughout this struggle, the Kyiv Pechersk Lavra has remained the principal symbol of spiritual authority and legitimacy.

Why Is the Lavra So Important to Russia?

Whoever controls the Lavra symbolically controls the heritage of the Baptism of Kyivan Rus’.

It is worth noting one of the fundamental principles of historical scholarship: the history of a country is interpreted within the framework of its present-day borders. For example, the Frankish Kingdom forms part of French history, despite the fact that its capital, Aachen, is located in present-day Germany. If one opens a French history textbook, one will find descriptions of this period, but not claims that Germany constitutes the historical inheritance of France.

A different approach can be observed in Russian history textbooks. A substantial portion of their historical narrative is devoted to the polity commonly referred to as Kyivan Rus’, whose core territory was located within present-day Ukraine. From this, conclusions are drawn that the modern Russian Federation is the direct successor of Rus’.

In this way, a chauvinistic interpretation of history is instilled from an early age — one that portrays Ukraine as an integral part of modern Russia and suggests that Ukraine did not exist as an independent historical or political entity before the Soviet Union or before 1991.

For this reason, as noted above, whoever controls the Lavra symbolically controls the heritage of Kyivan Rus’.

Who Blew Up the Lavra for the Second Time?

The Russian Federation.