The Second Stage of the “Religious Revival” in Russia: How to Evaluate It from the Perspective of the Secularization Debate

Abstract

This article focuses on the religious processes in Russia over the last fifteen years. The author has two objectives: on the one hand, to describe processes that can be called the second stage of the “religious revival” in contemporary Russia, and on the other hand, to place them within the context of theoretical discussions on secularization/desecularization. To achieve this goal, this article first examines the question of what secularization and, accordingly, desecularization are. Next, it describes the main trends in Russia’s religious life since 2012 at the macro-, meso-, and micro-levels. Then, the author examines numerous academic strategies aimed at “explaining religion away,” that is, proving that there has been no increase in the social significance of religion. Among these strategies, the following are considered in detail: (a) mixing empirical statements and value judgments; (b) instrumentalization of religion; and (c) religion finding “other work” to do. Finally, this article offers both a general evaluation of the Russian case from the perspective of secularization theory and broader reflections on the theory itself—for instance, it examines whether the theory is, in principle, falsifiable.

1. Introduction

This article focuses on the religious processes in Russia over the last fifteen years. I have two objectives: on the one hand, to describe processes that can be called the continuation of the “religious revival” in Russia, and on the other hand, to place them within the context of theoretical discussions on secularization/desecularization. To achieve this goal, I will first examine the question of what secularization and, accordingly, desecularization are (2). Next, I will describe the main trends in Russia’s religious life since 2012 at the macro-, meso-, and micro-levels (3). I will examine numerous academic strategies aimed at “explaining religion away,” that is, proving that there has been no increase in the social significance of religion (4). Finally, I will present both a general assessment of the Russian case from the perspective of secularization theory and general considerations regarding this theory (5).

It should be noted that Russia’s case has always been very special in the context of discussions about secularization. The violent secularization in the USSR, which seemed to have led to a rapid decline in religiosity in Eastern Europe, created a compelling backdrop during the heyday of secularization theory (on Soviet secularization and its problems; see Froese 2008; Luehrmann 2011; Smolkin 2018). The collapse of the USSR and the beginning of “a remarkable revival of the Orthodox Church in Russia” (Berger 1999, p. 6)—“the biggest revival ever [?]”, as Andrew Greeley (2004, p. 89) wrote—was one of the landmark events that led to the crisis of secularization theory. Contemporary works on secularization also often use detailed analysis of the Russian case to illustrate their theoretical constructs and conclusions (see Kasselstrand et al. 2023, pp. 148–59; Pollack and Rosta 2017, pp. 215–36; Stolz and Novak 2023, pp. 150–53).

In my analysis, I proceed from the assumption that the religious history of contemporary Russia can be divided into two stages: the first, post-Soviet stage, late 1980s–2000s, when the Soviet Union collapsed and a “religious revival” began at the grassroots level (micro-level) (see Furman and Kaariainen 2007a, 2007b). This first stage is characterized by the generally secular nature of the state and opposition to attempts by religion—in particular, the Russian Orthodox Church—to exert influence at the meso- and macro-levels (see Fagan 2014). The second stage, after 2012, saw the stagnation of the religious revival at the grassroots level, but at the same time, rapid processes began at the meso- and macro-levels in the context of political reaction and the beginning of what is commonly referred to as the “conservative turn” in Russia (on the conservative turn, see Suslov and Uzlaner 2019; on the process of Russia’s desecularization after the 2010s, see Karpov 2013; Karpov and Schroeder 2025). I call it the second stage of the religious revival in Russia—or one can also call it, more neutrally, the second stage of contemporary Russia’s religious history: this is the focus of my analysis.

Kristina Stoeckl, who also writes about the end of post-Soviet religion, justifies the division into stages as follows: the Soviet period was characterized by processes of “repression, collaboration, dissidence, and emigration” (Stoeckl 2024, p. 11; see also Stoeckl 2020a). In the post-Soviet period,

the Church had the potential to be everything: a thriving faith under conditions of religious freedom, a supporter of democratization and a potential critic of the government, a cooperation partner inside a secular state, a quasi-state church.

(Stoeckl 2020a)

This period—from the point of view of the prospects of the Russian Orthodox Church—was characterized

by ambivalence and multivocality, oscillating between freedom and control, nationalism and transnationalism, projecting different images of itself to believers, the Russian state, global Orthodoxy, and international politics.

(Stoeckl 2024, pp. 4–5)

The turning point of 2012, according to Stoeckl,

signals the end of the tension-ridden, ambivalent, and ultimately open era of post-Soviet Russian Orthodoxy and the re-definition—and closure—of the Russian Orthodox Church as a national church.

(Stoeckl 2020a)

Sharing these general intuitions, I would like to develop the idea of the second period of Russia’s contemporary religious history and place the Russian case in the broader context of the debate on de/secularization.

The case of Russia is also interesting in that, when analyzing it, different authors come to different, sometimes mutually exclusive (at least at first glance) conclusions in the context of discussions about de/secularization. For example, one researcher writes: over the past 15 years, “rather than witnessing desecularisation, Russia is experiencing an extreme form of secularisation, where religion loses its autonomy and is fully co-opted by the state” (Składanowski 2025, p. 14). Other authors are slightly more accurate, writing that what we are seeing is “a borrowed religious boom, one that has less to do with the internal dynamics of religion than with political, cultural, and economic factors” (Pollack and Rosta 2017, p. 236). Kristina Stoeckl offers a more balanced and cautious assessment: “instead of desecularization of the Russian state, we could also talk of a secularization of Russian Orthodoxy or, more accurately, of a religious-secular entanglement, which leaves neither side unchanged” (Stoeckl 2020d, p. 53). Finally, Vyacheslav Karpov and Rachel Schroeder describe the case of Russia in recent years as an example of real desecularization in the sense of a “counter-secular revolution” (Karpov and Schroeder 2025, p. 26).

This divergence of opinions already allows us to conclude that there is fundamental uncertainty about how to characterize the religious processes taking place in Russia—in the second stage of its contemporary religious history. It should be noted that this uncertainty resonates with the general uncertainty that arises when attempting to describe religious processes in today’s world as a whole—some write that secularization is progressing and developing successfully (Inglehart 2021; Kasselstrand et al. 2023; Stolz et al. 2025), while others write about desecularization and the advent of the post-secular age (Molendijk 2015; Beaumont 2018). From this, we can again conclude that discussions about the Russian case reflect the general state of discussions about the fate of de/secularization in today’s world.

This contradiction points to conceptual uncertainty about what de/secularization is. Therefore, before moving on to the discussion of Russia, it is necessary to define clearly what de/secularization is and at what levels it should be considered.

2. What Is Secularization and Desecularization?

Even though there are various approaches to the understanding of secularization, I prefer to adhere to the so-called neoclassical tradition (for more on this tradition, see Wilson 1985; Wallis and Bruce 1992; Tschannen 1991). According to this tradition secularization has two main meanings: the primary meaning is secularization as the decline of the social significance of religion, and the secondary meaning is secularization as the decline of (individual) religiosity. These two meanings and the importance of avoiding confusion between them are constantly emphasized by attentive researchers of secularization (see, for example, Chaves 1994, p. 753; Bruce 2011, p. 2). Secularization in the first sense can be called secularization 1, secularization in the second sense—secularization 2. It should be emphasized that, despite the similarity, these two meanings are not identical (for more on these different meanings of secularization, see Uzlaner 2025). Moreover, sometimes one type of secularization or desecularization can occur without the other—that is, for example, the social significance of religion may increase, while indicators of individual religiosity may remain unchanged or even decrease (this is precisely what we see in the case of Russia, which will be discussed below).

At the same time, secularization is a multidimensional process that must be considered on at least three levels: macro, meso, and micro (Dobbelaere 1981, 2002). The macro-level concerns the very social structure of society—accordingly, secularization at the macro level is changes at the societal level of basic principles of functioning. This includes, for example, processes of social differentiation—structural or functional: changes in laws, the legal status of religious organizations, the influence of religious norms, values, and principles on other—non-religious—spheres (economy, politics, law, culture, etc.). The meso-level concerns the activity and position of religious organizations—the degree of their influence on society and individuals, and their ability to influence political, social, and economic processes (here, the meso-level may begin to overlap with the macro). Finally, the micro-level refers to indicators of individual religiosity, the degree of significance of religious ideas and practices for the life of an individual. At least one more level can be added to these three: the transnational level, which adds a new dimension and new dynamics to all contemporary de/secularization processes (see Casanova 2019).

Secularization 1 mainly concerns the macro- and meso-levels, while secularization 2 is difficult to comprehend at any level other than the micro-level.

Desecularization, by analogy with secularization, can be understood in two basic meanings: desecularization 1, i.e., the process of increasing the social significance of religion, and desecularization 2, i.e., the process of increasing (individual) religiosity. This desecularization can be viewed on three levels: macro, i.e., the strengthening of the social significance of religion at the level of social structure; meso, i.e., the strengthening of the social significance of specific religious organizations; and, finally, micro, i.e., the increase in the social significance of religion in its projection onto the life of a specific individual (as well as an increase in indicators of individual religiosity, i.e., desecularization 2). A more nuanced consideration of the concept of desecularization (see Karpov 2010) and the closely related concept of post-secularism (see McLennan 2010; Molendijk et al. 2010; Gorski et al. 2012; Molendijk 2015; Kyrlezhev 2014; Beaumont 2018) remain outside the scope of this article.

A convincing analysis of a specific case—for example, the case of Russia—in the context of the de/secularization debate must consider religious processes at all three levels mentioned above—and also from the perspective of de/secularization 1 and 2. The problem with much of the current discussion on secularization is that it reduces secularization exclusively to secularization 2 and, accordingly, to a discussion of whether we are witnessing a decline or rise in individual religiosity (for an overview of this discussion, see Stolz 2020a; see also Stolz et al. 2025). The focus is on the micro-level, while the meso- and macro-levels are either ignored or considered on a residual basis (for more details, see Uzlaner 2025, pp. 11–15). As a result, entire layers of reality remain in the researchers’ blind spot, and global conclusions about the place and role of religion in contemporary society are made based on very limited and one-sided data. At the same time, researchers sometimes try not to see religious processes at levels other than micro-, using a whole system of argumentations that I will call “explaining religion away”-strategies (see below).

3. Religious Processes in Russia at the Macro-, Meso-, and Micro-Levels

The task of this section is to describe the main religious processes in Russia during the second stage of its contemporary religious history. My goal is not to introduce new empirical data, but to highlight key trends and tendencies. In my analysis, I will focus primarily on de/secularization 1, although at the end, when discussing the micro level, I will also talk about de/secularization 2. My focus is on the nationwide (all-Russian) level processes concerning Russian Eastern Orthodox Christianity as the dominant religion and the Russian Orthodox Church as the largest religious organization (on the Church in contemporary Russia, see general works: Knox 2005; Mitrokhin 2006; Papkova 2011; Burgess 2017; Luchenko 2025). Accordingly, I will leave out more specific regional processes, as well as processes related to other denominations and religions.

In this section, I would like to focus on the facts, that is, to avoid my subjective interpretations as much as possible. The question of how exactly to interpret the available facts and what discussions arise here will be considered in the next section of this article. The main difficulty in presenting the facts is that the situation is constantly changing. Nevertheless, it is possible to identify a general trend, which continues to be overlaid with new details.

3.1. Macro-Level and Meso-Level

Above, I wrote that the macro- and meso-levels are two levels that can be considered separately, since one concerns the structure of society itself, while the other concerns the position and influence of specific religious organizations, in the case of Russia, the position and influence of the Russian Orthodox Church. However, in this case, I consider it appropriate to analyze these two levels together. According to the law, Russia is a secular state, that is, according to the Constitution, the state is equidistant from any religious associations (Article 14). In this sense, the strengthening of the social influence of the Russian Orthodox Church should formally belong to the meso-level of our analysis, but due to the fact that in contemporary Russia, in addition to formal rules, there is also a system of informal or semi-formal rules, the position of the Russian Orthodox Church and the question of its growing influence should be considered as being at the intersection of the macro- and meso-levels. In addition, the activity and influence of the Russian Orthodox Church after 2012 most directly affects the macro-level and the changes taking place at that level.

The second stage of contemporary Russia’s religious history began in 2012. Politically, this was the year Vladimir Putin returned for a third presidential term and began a “conservative turn,” accompanied by the de facto dismantling of the liberal-democratic legacy of the 1990s and early 2000s. In religious terms, the conservative turn is characterized by a rapprochement between secular power, represented by Vladimir Putin, and ecclesiastical power, represented by Patriarch Kirill (for a review of this process, see Stoeckl 2024, pp. 6–8). The catalyst for this new phase was the case of Pussy Riot, a punk-feminist group that staged a “punk-prayer” performance in 2012 in Moscow’s Cathedral of Christ the Savior, Russia’s largest church. This performance provoked a very painful reaction in society and mobilized conservative Orthodox actors to defend Christian shrines and the offended feelings of believers (on the Pussy Riot case and its consequences, see Schroeder and Karpov 2013; Uzlaner 2014; Yablokov 2014; for a more panoramic picture, see Karpov and Schroeder 2025).

The conservative turn brought to the fore the agenda promoted by Patriarch Kirill and his like-minded allies for the spiritual and moral revival of Russia and the fight against destructive liberal influences. Key concepts of this new agenda are “traditional values”, “spiritual and moral values”, “traditional family values”, etc. This agenda began to increasingly determine both Russia’s domestic and foreign policy. Russia began to claim the status of the last bastion of traditional values and their global defender throughout the world (see Curanović 2015; Stoeckl and Uzlaner 2022).

The new vector was outlined by Vladimir Putin in his annual Presidential Addresses to the Federal Assembly (for example, in 2012 and 2013): he emphasized the need to strengthen the so-called “spiritual bonds” of Russia. This new reality gradually began to be enshrined in laws and strategic documents—for example, Strategia natsional’noi bezopastnosti [The Strategy of the National Security] (Stoeckl 2022; see also Stepanova 2025). The process culminated in the new text of the Russian Constitution, which was adopted by popular vote in 2020. From now on, the Constitution not only mentions “faith in God” as part of the heritage that Russia has received from previous generations (Article 67, Part 2)1, but also proclaims the protection of traditional family values as one of the duties of the Russian government (Article 114, Part 1, clause “c”).

The Constitution was followed by a series of documents developing and clarifying its new provisions. The most important of these documents is the Presidential Decree on the State Policy for the Preservation and Strengthening of Traditional Russian Spiritual and Moral Values (No. 809, 9 November 2022) (see Bisler 2025). Religious conservatives themselves, through some of their representatives, called its appearance a “decisive” event, the beginning of a new stage in Russian history (see Shafran and Zhgutova 2022). Alexander Shchipkov, First Deputy Chairman of the Synodal Department for Church Relations with Society and the Media, who is largely responsible for ideology and interaction with society within the Russian Orthodox Church, called the decree “theological” (see Shchipkov 2025).

Since 2012, but especially since 2022, one can witness the process that Mikhail Suslov called the “petrification”2 of the new semi-state ideology3. The influence of the Church and this new semi-state ideology is most clearly evident, for example, in the field of education (see Köllner 2016; Blinkova and Vermeer 2019, 2025; Lisovskaya and Karpov 2010, 2020). The informal system of checks and balances between liberal (more secular) and conservative positions that was characteristic of the first, post-Soviet stage4 is no longer functioning.

Naturally, this ideology includes not only traditional values: it also encompasses, among other things, patriotism and the idea of national sovereignty (for a systematic analysis of Putinism as ideology, see Suslov 2024). The religious dimension is only one element of this new ideological formation, which, however, does not contradict any of its other components (see Suslov 2024, pp. 234–73). In my analysis, I focus specifically on the religious aspects that are most clearly manifested in the discourse on traditional values (see Stepanova 2015, 2025).

Starting at least with the Pussy Riot case, a repressive apparatus has been gradually developed and refined to protect traditional values and the religious organizations that defend them: from the law on protecting the feelings of believers (Article 148, Parts 1 and 2 of the Criminal Code of the Russian Federation) to the institution of “foreign agents” and the declaration of certain religious movements as “extremist”—for example, so-called “Satanism” (according to the Supreme Court ruling of 23 July 2025; on Satanism, see Shnirelman 2025; see Verkhovsky 2025, also see other publications by this author, as well as materials from the SOVA Research Center5). One can also mention the targeted persecutions of Jehovah’s Witnesses, who are also considered extremists.

The Russian Orthodox Church and its agenda of traditional values, “Holy Rus’,” and “Russian World” played a significant role in Russia’s attack on Ukraine and the escalation of the conflict into a full-scale protracted war (see Suslov 2016; Knorre and Zygmont 2020; Elsner 2022, 2025; Kilp and Pankhurst 2022; Horsfjord 2024; Kolstø and Kolov 2024; Kolstø 2025). The war, in turn, radicalized the processes described above, accelerating the adoption of laws that previously seemed unthinkable (banning gender transitions, proclaiming the LGBTQ+ movement as extremist, etc.) (Stoeckl 2024, pp. 8–11; see also Stoeckl and Uzlaner, forthcoming).

These processes do not happen automatically—behind them are specific activists and actors who consider them necessary; act as their driving force; and ensure that, for example, the provisions enshrined in the Constitution do not remain mere empty words (see Karpov 2010, and other works by this author, which emphasize the role of “activists” and “actors” in the process of desecularization). Here, the macro-level is intertwined with the meso-level. Naturally, various actors are involved in this process (for example, the group that Kristina Stoeckl calls the “old guard”, Stoeckl 2024, p. 2; see also Faure 2025)—not all of them are formal representatives of religious organizations, but at least they sympathize with the Church and the Orthodox tradition. In terms of desecularization, the key actor is, of course, the Russian Orthodox Church. But, since the Church is not homogeneous and different ideological currents can be historically found within it (see Kostyuk 2002, 2013), we can talk about the growing influence of one specific group of activists—the so-called “Christian right” (by analogy with the American Christian right; on the Russian Christian right, see Stoeckl 2020b, 2023). Stoeckl defines them as a group that is “concerned with concrete social policy issues (family, abortion), <…> has policy goals outside of the Orthodox Church, and <…> is open to contacts with Christians of other denominations” (Stoeckl 2020b, p. 227). The current leader of this group is Patriarch Kirill6. In this article, I understand the Russian Christian right in the broad sense—as a milieu of people who support and promote the conservative turn from a religious standpoint.

Since 2012, the Russian Orthodox Church has been gradually increasing its social significance. The direction of this development was outlined by the Russian President back in 2012 in his address to the Federal Assembly, where he said that the state should support “the institutions that have enshrined our traditional values and have historically proven their ability to pass them on from generation to generation” (Putin 2012). As of 2025, it can be stated that the Church has significant formal and informal resources to maintain and strengthen its influence. Formal resources include, for example, numerous repressive laws or working groups in the Russian parliament—by 2025, the Russian Duma hosted at least two Church-oriented interparliamentary groups promoting the agenda of social conservatism7. Informal resources include, for example, representatives of illiberal civil society (see Grek 2023), who ensure that the “conservative turn” is implemented in the everyday practices of Russian citizens. One can mention the “Sorok Sorokov” organization (see Hanzel and Avramov 2023), or Orthodox activists who monitor violations of anti-abortion measures in private clinics (RIA Novosti 2025).

As a result of all the processes described above, the Church has

become the most vocal voice in the public arena, with a growing influence over Russian legislation, education, and culture as well as the shaping of Russian historical memory.

(Shakhanova and Kratochvíl 2022, p. 134)

The thesis about the importance of the Church can be illustrated by the amendments to the text of the Constitution in 2020. Kristina Stoeckl lists four specific provisions where the proposals of speakers associated with the Russian Orthodox Church were taken into account: belief in God as part of country’s heritage, mention of the special role of the Russian people, marriage as a union between a man and a woman, and the preservation of traditional family values as a goal to which the government of the Russian Federation should aspire (Stoeckl 2020a; see also Stoeckl 2024, pp. 7–8).

At the same time, neither the state nor the Church loses its subjectivity in this process. The Church does not always succeed in implementing its initiatives in the form in which it proposes them—for example, Patriarch Kirill wanted to see a reference to “faith in God” in the Preamble to the Constitution, but this amendment was only made to one of the articles in the middle of the text (Article 67, Part 2). Despite the desire to achieve or significantly restrict the practice of abortion, the efforts of the Christian right have not yet led to any breakthrough results (although there is a clear movement in this direction), being limited exclusively to half-measures (see analysis by Kolstø 2023; see also Stoeckl 2020c). Patriarch Kirill has publicly expressed dissatisfaction with the fact that “faith in God” is absent from the official list of traditional values, while freedom and human rights remain (see Stepanova 2025).

3.2. Micro-Level

If, during the first—post-Soviet—stage of contemporary Russia’s religious history, the micro-level was the focus of attention—with indicators of religiosity (particularly in terms of belonging to the Orthodox Church and belief in God) growing rapidly—then during the second stage, the micro-level receded into the background. Religious revival at the micro level has reached a kind of natural equilibrium, which can only be shifted by the most radical events (for significant trends of the post-Soviet period, see Chesnokova 2005; Filatov and Lunkin 2006; Furman and Kaariainen 2007a, 2007b; Sinelina 2013).

Many people still identify themselves as Orthodox Christians—although there are some signs of a decline in this self-identification and a gradual increase in the number of “religiously unaffiliated” people (see Pew Research Center 2025; VCIOM 2025). At the same time, indicators of religious practice are low and, in this sense, hardly stand out against the European average (see Evans and Baronavski 2018; FOM 2025; interesting review of available data, see Re:Russia 2025). Moreover, one can even speak of a critical reflection that has begun in society regarding post-Soviet “religious revival”: for example, emerging voices of former enthusiasts of Russian Orthodoxy (see Uzlaner 2018, pp. 180–82).

Among the important trends relevant to my analysis that became visible since 2012, one can note the disapproval of the Russian Orthodox Church’s interference in state affairs, which is a consequence of the Church’s increased significance at the macro- and meso-levels. While the post-Soviet period was characterized by what sociologists called the “pro-Orthodox consensus” (Furman and Kaariainen 2007a, 2007b; Lebedev 2015), the second stage led to turbulence around this consensus, as not all Russian citizens accepted the transition of “religious revival” from the micro-level to the meso- and macro-levels. In fact, the adoption of new repressive laws and the intensification of the struggle for traditional values were at least partially a defensive reaction of the authorities to the people’s discontent over the Church’s attempts to transform its considerable symbolic capital—what Alexander Agadjanian called “semiotic religiosity” (Agadjanian 2006, pp. 173–75)—into real political and ideological influence (for an overview of these conflicts, see Uzlaner 2018).

Another trend at the micro level is the reflection of a new agenda of traditional values in public opinion. Thus, it can be said that attitudes have indeed shifted toward greater rejection—compared to the 1990s—of phenomena that are labeled as “non-traditional” in the public sphere (see Stoeckl and Uzlaner 2022, pp. 82–84; on the degree of public support for the agenda of traditional values and the extent to which it works to legitimize the regime, see Blakkisrud and Kolstø 2025; see also Borshchevskii 2025). However, these fluctuations in public opinion seem to be only an intermediate stage before the establishment of a new reality, where support for traditional values and loyalty to the new ideology are enshrined in repressive laws.

3.3. How Should Religious Processes in Russia Be Assessed from the Perspective of the De/Secularization Debate?

If we summarize the main features of the second stage of the religious history of contemporary Russia, we get the following picture. At the macro- and meso-levels, we are talking about a formal and semi-formal rapprochement between the state and the Church. The “religious revival” discussed in the first stage has not ended but has broken out of the micro level and reached the macro- and meso-levels. This leads to an increase in the social significance of the Church and a visible process of gradual “petrification” of the semi-official state ideology. In the language of social theory, this can be described as a process of dedifferentiation, i.e., the mixing of religion and non-religious spheres, as well as the refunctionalization of religion and its deprivatization (i.e., religion ceases to be—if it ever was—an exclusively private matter).

At the micro level, this second stage is characterized by the stagnation of the indicators of individual religiosity—there is neither rapid growth nor an equally rapid decline. The desecularization 2 characteristic of the first—post-Soviet—stage has largely slowed down, passing on its momentum to desecularization 1. One could even say that these processes are running parallel—(partial) secularization 2 and desecularization 1, i.e., a gradual decline in the number of citizens who identify themselves with a particular religion, dissatisfaction with the clericalization of the state and criticism of religion (as a result of critical reflection concerning the experience of the “religious revival” of the 1990s), and the reaction of religious actors who launch campaigns to fight the “enemies of the Church”—and the state—which results in desecularization 1 (which is why Karpov and Schroeder call this process “counter-secular”, Karpov and Schroeder 2025).

Further on, more refined characteristics can be proposed. For example, the religious situation in Russia can be called post-secular: desecularization 1 does not lead to a return to the past, but to a new reality, the essence of which is the superimposition of desecularization processes on the landscape that was formed by previous secularization processes. One can agree with Kristina Stoeckl that we are dealing here with a “religious-secular entanglement, which leaves neither side unchanged” (Stoeckl 2020d, p. 53). One can speak of the emergence of “post-secular hybrids” (they can also be called “post-religious,” see Uzlaner 2014, pp. 44–45), which overcome the secular/religious dichotomy—if by secular and religious we mean their modern forms, which were constructed as strictly separated from each other. These hybrids manifest themselves in the phenomenon of “triple faith,” which can be understood as the emergence of post-secular hybrids combining pre-Christian, Christian, and secular elements. A good example of such a “triple faith” hybrid is the Main Cathedral of the Russian Armed Forces, which was built in 2020 and which can be considered as one of the main symbols of a new stage of Russia’s “religious revival” (for more on the cathedral itself, see Kolov 2021; see also Griffin 2024).

Everything written above may seem self-evident. However, this is far from the case. The thesis that Russia has been undergoing desecularization is considered controversial by many researchers (see Introduction). For example, Mikhail Smirnov (1955–2025), one of the leading Russian post-Soviet scholars of religion, was very skeptical of the desecularization thesis. In 2023 (!) he wrote:

Interpretations of desecularization, as a rule, cautiously avoid essential questions. For example: is there really (and under what conditions) a widespread return of property and former possessions to religious organizations, which at various times passed into secular management as a result of secularization? Do contemporary states allow religious organizations to become influential actors in the foreign and domestic policies of these states? Are the legal systems of secular states filled with religious norms that have legal force? Are family, marriage, domestic, and labor relations in secular states subject to legitimate religious control? Is religious censorship of secular education and culture being introduced at the state level?

He then concludes: “If we examine such questions impartially, it becomes obvious how much the idea of desecularization is full of exaggerations and wishful thinking” (Smirnov 2023, p. 140).

My own analysis shows that, on the contrary, it is precisely the proponents of secularization theory who avoid these questions, preferring to focus on indicators of individual religiosity (see Uzlaner 2025). In fact, even the analysis above allows us to answer virtually all the questions posed by Smirnov in the affirmative (on the restitution of property, see Köllner 2018; the transfer of the famous Andrei Rublev’s Trinity icon to the Church “for long-term storage” in 2023 is another important symbol of the new religious reality, see Interfax 2023).

However, there are other, much more interesting ways to argue against the thesis of Russia’s desecularization. Below, I would like to examine the arguments of those who do this. These arguments are interesting both in the context of the debate about how to characterize what is happening in Russia and in the context of more general theoretical discussions concerning de/secularization and the place of religion in contemporary societies. I would like to call the argumentative strategies of those who deny seemingly evident desecularization—strategies of “explaining religion away” (see Greeley 2004, p. 120).

4. Explaining Religion Away

Explaining religion away-strategies are argumentation strategies designed to show that the processes affecting religion and testifying to its increasing social significance cannot be recognized as such and, accordingly, cannot testify to the fact that secularization is being replaced by desecularization. Although my analysis concerns Russia, it does not involve any special arguments invented specifically for the Russian case—these strategies are universal and are used everywhere in discussions about de/secularization and the continuing validity of secularization theory.

These strategies cannot be considered the result of some deliberate intention on the part of researchers; rather, they can be seen as a reflection of what Peter Berger called “secular bias” (Berger 2008). The essence of this bias lies in the tendency “to believe that religious motives are suspect, that they are used to legitimize the ‘root causes’ underlying a conflict.” As Berger adds, “this is a bias that fails to understand the motivating power of religious faith” (2008). In essence, it is assumed at the axiomatic level that there is no place for religion in the contemporary world. Then various explanations are invented as to why something is happening in the world that someone mistakenly perceives as desecularization and an increase in the social significance of religion.

If we look for a common feature in the various strategies of explaining religion away, we can find it in the formula—religious + secular = secular. The meaning of this formula is simple: combining religion with any sphere positioned as secular results in secular. In other words, mixing the substance of “pure” religiosity with the non-religious—with politics, culture, law, ideology, etc.—only harms the religious, while the secular remains unchanged (on “pure religion,” see Uzlaner 2025, pp. 15–17). To express this formula in the words of proponents of secularization theory, the contact between religion and the secular leads to religion being “co-opted” by the secular world (Wood 2015, p. 247; see also, Bruce 2016, p. 383). This way of thinking does not work in reverse for advocates of secularization: the secular does not lose its secular status through contact with religion (it is religion-resistant).

Before analyzing the various strategies for explaining religion away, I would like to illustrate how this works with a specific example related to the Russo–Ukrainian war. Let’s take a quote from the now famous Resolution XXV of the World Russian People’s Council (WRPS), “The Present and Future of the Russian World” (dated 27 March 2024), which, according to its authors, “is a program document <…>, as well as an order addressed to the legislative and executive authorities of Russia”:

From a spiritual and moral point of view, the special military operation (special’naja voennaja operacija) is a sacred war (svjashhennaja vojna), in which Russia and its people, defending the single spiritual space of Holy Rus’, fulfill the mission of the “Restraining One” [katechon], protecting the world from the onslaught of globalism and the victory of the West, which has fallen into Satanism.

(Sobor 2024; on the WRPS itself, see Rousselet 2025)

It seems that there is no way to downplay the significance of the religious factor here. But Kilp and Pankhurst (2025) attempt to prove that what we are dealing with here is a secular phenomenon—not even a “hybrid”. In other words, these authors are literally trying to explain religion away, despite the obvious and pervasive religious component. How exactly are they trying to do this, considering that we are not dealing with some spontaneous text, but with a text that “not only represents a summary and synopsis of the XXV WRPC but also summarizes the public agenda of more than three decades of WRPC convocations which first gathered in 1993” (Kilp and Pankhurst 2025, pp. 3–4)?

The authors employ a range of strategies, which will be discussed separately below. They write that the real goals of the Resolution are “secular, not religious” (Kilp and Pankhurst 2025, pp. 11, 14), as it spells out Russia’s goals to “become one of the leading centers of the multipolar world” and be “the geopolitical center of Eurasia,” and states that Russia should “act as a bulwark of security and a fair world order in the new multipolar world” (Kilp and Pankhurst 2025, p. 11). The authors do not explain why these “secular” goals somehow contradict the religious dimension. If we do not try to “explain religion away,” we will see a symphony of religious and political logic: Russia has the right to a special political, economic, and other status in today’s world because it fulfills the most important sacred missions—to be the Katechon, to defend the space of Holy Rus’, to oppose the West, which is falling into “Satanism.”

The authors go on to write that the text of the Resolution is based “on secular national identities or on religion as a marker of community identity,” which is contrasted with the Christian idea of salvation (Kilp and Pankhurst 2025, p. 11). Here, in the name of explaining religion away, the question of identity is devalued, turning into something secular. Why? The question of identity, linked to reflections on the special role of Russia and the Russian people in the history of salvation, is an important question in the tradition of Russian Orthodoxy. Salvation was and continues to be conceived not only as an individual but also as a collective project—for example, in the context of reflections on “sobornost’” (see Biriukov 2025; on collective salvation in the thought of the Slavophiles, in particular Alexei Khomyakov, see Agadjanian and Rousselet 2010, p. 315; on collectivistic religions, see Jakelić 2016; see also Mitrofanova 2025). The Russian Orthodox Church is both universal and Russian—this dialectic is reflected in the “Fundamentals of the Social Concept of the Russian Orthodox Church” (see below; on the collective and the individual in the Orthodox tradition, see Agadjanian and Rousselet 2010; on the predisposition of Orthodox churches—not only Russian—to nationalism, see Makrides 2013). The Orthodox theological critique of individualism and the human rights associated with it stems precisely from the idea that “to concentrate on the individual is to ignore the community, which is the bearer of common values and traditions” (Agadjanian and Rousselet 2010, p. 314; for the Russian Eastern Orthodox approach to human rights, see Stoeckl 2014). The opposition of “identity” to “salvation” and the thesis that the emphasis on “identity” is a distortion of authentic Christian faith is an example of quasi-theological criticism under the guise of sociological analysis (see below for more details).

The authors also employ the most well-known and widely used strategy of explaining religion away—the thesis of instrumentalization. They write about the “instrumental use of the religious” and that “Putin and Kirill have utilized instrumentally the religious Othering of the West and claimed God to be on their side” (Kilp and Pankhurst 2025, p. 12). I will discuss the thesis of instrumentalization in detail below, but here I will simply note the following: if we have the political theology of the “Russian World” and “Holy Rus’” (see Suslov 2014, 2018; Kostyuk 2015), which formulates a definite vision of Russia, then why would acting in accordance with this vision—which includes political, geopolitical, legal, repressive, and other actions—be the instrumentalization of religion rather than acting in accordance with this vision? In this case, the thesis about the instrumentalization of religion looks like a value judgment about processes that the authors consider wrong (on this, see below).

Finally, the authors write that the Russian population is religious and conservative only at the level of declarations, while in practice it is “a dysfunctional society with high rates of single-parent families, drug and alcohol consumption, and suicide” (Kilp and Pankhurst 2025, pp. 13–14). This thesis is used to emphasize the superficiality of Resolution’s religious rhetoric. But here one can argue that religious conservatives themselves understand this point perfectly well—their active efforts are precisely aimed at counteracting the moral decline and passivity they see among the Russian population (their goal is “spiritual” revival of the country).

In the next section, I will examine some of the most popular strategies for explaining religion away. On the one hand, I will point out their conceptual problems, and on the other, I will explain why they do not work, at least in the Russian case. Perhaps this will stimulate a rethinking of these strategies as they apply to other cases—and perhaps even spark a theoretical discussion about their overall persuasiveness. My general thesis is not that the principle of “explaining religion away” is always false, but that it must be approached with caution and its applicability to a particular case must always be assessed. Today many of the strategies of explaining religion away have become clichés that are used without reflection or any rigorous operationalization.

4.1. Mixing Empirical Statements and Value Judgments

The essence of this strategy is the combination of an analytical description, which is stated as the goal of the study, with simultaneous—explicit or implicit—condemnation of the phenomenon being described, which, as a result of this condemnation, is deprived of the right to be considered “religious” (as if the right to be called “religious” needs to be deserved). Trends that the authors dislike are described as “impure,” “inauthentic,” “artificial,” “distorting” authentic religiosity, which through such distortion becomes, as it were, non-religion or not quite religion. In short, instead of stating facts and objectively studying the phenomena observed, the researcher begins to evaluate them based on his or her own ideological or theological preferences. In this case, the study turns from a sociological or religious into a quasi-theological one8.

Often, authors are motivated by the noble desire to protect religion, which must necessarily be “good” and “pure,” from malicious forces that seek to abuse it, appropriate it, or use it in ways other than its intended purpose (on the search for “good” religion as an implicit assumption of religious studies, see Orsi 2013, p. 183ff; also see Scheffler 2008). The problem with such a noble endeavor is that the academic study of religion is not intended to defend or criticize religion, but to examine it as it is—in all its ambivalence (on the ambivalence of the sacred, see Appleby 2000).

This strategy can often be seen in the context of studies on the influence of religion on contemporary politics—for example, in the context of religious populism or illiberal right-wing authoritarianism. I will examine two popular concepts that follow this logic: the first concept is hijacking religion, and the second is Christianism.

The essence of the concept of “hijacking religion” is that certain malicious political forces borrow religious symbols and content for completely non-religious purposes (see Marzouki et al. 2016; for criticism, see Forlenza 2018). As a result, religion is, on the one hand, grossly distorted and, on the other hand, stolen from its true owners (true believers and official churches). Accordingly, it can be argued that the religious component in the case of hijacking is not evidence of desecularization, since this component is distorted and stolen.

Thus, authors who have popularized this concept—in studies of right-wing populism—write that populists emphasize “belonging” rather than “faith,” call for a “revival” of “religious identity” and the associated “traditions and symbols,” and wage a “struggle” against the forces that threaten this identity. All this is done to the detriment of “theological doctrine” with its “rules and regulations” (Marzouki and McDonnell 2016, p. 2). The result is a distortion of religion. Such “use” causes discontent on the part of the Church, which, in contrast to “identity,” emphasizes “faith” and “value systems” (Roy 2016, p. 190). The rejection by the Church, in fact, justifies the term itself—“hijacking,” that is, “theft” or “abduction” from the real owner.

In defense of this concept, it can be said that the “hijacking” scenario is entirely possible, i.e., it is not something completely implausible. Problems arise when this thesis becomes a cliché that is uncritically applied to a wide variety of contexts. For example, is this thesis applicable to religious processes in Russia in recent decades? My answer is no. Let’s take an article by Edwin Bacon (2018), where the author talks about hijacking religion and tries to look at the intertwining of religion and nationalism/imperialism in contemporary Russian Orthodoxy from this angle. I want to stress that this is a good article, and my criticism of the hijacking religion concept doesn’t take away from its merits.

The author examines various typologies of the relationship between religion and nationalism, some of which he calls ex patria, and others ex religio. The difference between them is that within the framework of ex patria, thinking “begins with nationalism and incorporates religion as a secondary aspect supporting that nationalism,” whereas within the framework of ex religio, the nation is viewed “from the position of a believer for whom faith comes first”. Further, “the relationship to the nation is worked out from a position of religious adherence” (Bacon 2018, p. 398).

The author links nationalist/imperialist versions of political theology with the thesis of hijacking religion. He emphasizes that such nationalist interpretations, on the one hand, contribute to division between people and cause an increase in hostility, and on the other hand, are disliked by the official Church, which condemns all of this. In other words, the author emphasizes both components of hijacking—that religion is “good” but is being distorted for non-religious purposes (nationalism) and that believers themselves and their official representatives are opposed to such distortion. In contrast to ex patria approaches, ex religio approaches are more peaceful and humane and are shared by “true” believers and those Orthodox thinkers who truly understood Christianity deeply. As the author writes: “primarily faith-based rationale tends to orientate toward unity rather than division, inclusivity rather than exclusivity, and benevolence rather than animosity” (Bacon 2018, p. 418).

The author’s reflection is a clear example of the mixing of analytical and evaluative judgments. From an analytical point of view, it can be said that there are different versions of Orthodox political theology, in particular concerning the question of how to combine the universal character of Orthodoxy and its connection with a specific community—the Russian people and the Russian state. The positions described by the author represent a spectrum of possible theological solutions to this fundamental problem. This spectrum reveals the fundamental unresolved nature of this issue in the teachings of the Russian Orthodox Church. This is evident in the “Fundamentals of the Social Concept of the Russian Orthodox Church” (2000), where, on the one hand, the Church is called universal, and on the other hand, its inseparable connection with the history—including military history—of Russia is emphasized (“The universal character of the Church, however, does not mean that Christians do not have the right to national identity and national self-expression”; “In all ages, the Church has called on its children to love their earthly homeland and to spare no effort to defend it if it is threatened”, Fundamentals of the Social Concept II. 1, 2, 3).

Academic analysis cannot declare strongly nationalistic/imperialistic versions of Orthodox political theology to be a distortion of Christianity or religion as such—or, conversely, a reflection of its essence. Such an assessment is the task of theology: theologians may well evaluate nationalistic interpretations of Christianity as heresy and offer convincing theological arguments against such interpretations—as, for example, a group of theologians who criticize the concept of the “Russian World” as a heresy, see note 8.

In addition, the author attempts to distance the official Church representatives from nationalistic interpretations of Christianity, emphasizing the periodic condemnation of excessive nationalism by Church spokespeople. For example, the author mentions the ideas of Metropolitan John (Snychev) (1927–1995), whose position is characterized as “political fundamentalism.” The author emphasizes that his ideas “have been condemned by the hierarchy of the Church” (Bacon 2018, p. 405). To this, one might respond that Metropolitan John (Snychev) himself is a representative of the Church hierarchy (“Metropolitan of St. Petersburg and Ladoga—the second most important position in the Russian Orthodox Church,” p. 405), even if at a certain point Patriarch Alexy II, the predecessor of Patriarch Kirill, attempted to limit the influence of his ideas. In addition, the ideas of the “Russian World” and the related idea of “Holy Rus’,” which also belong more to the ex patria spectrum and which played a significant role in the second stage of Russia’s “religious revival” (see Suslov 2014, 2018), were developed and disseminated by Patriarch Kirill himself, that is, the head of the Church, who certainly cannot be accused of hijacking religion.

The thesis of hijacking religion as applied to Russia would work if the following conditions were met: nationalistic/imperialistic interpretations of Christianity would arise out of nowhere and would not go beyond a formal appeal to religious symbols, i.e., they would not be backed by specific, well-developed doctrines (such as the “Russian World”), and they would be put forward by actors who had no religious background. At the same time, the Church itself would have to object to such nationalistic interpretations. None of these conditions apply to Russia. From this, we can conclude that the thesis of hijacking religion does not work. What we are dealing with is the rise to prominence of nationalistically/imperialistically oriented political theologies generated by the conservative/fundamentalist wing of the Russian Orthodox Church and brought into politics by the current Patriarch. One can also add that such political theologies resonate with the tradition of social and political thought of the Russian Orthodox Church (see Kostyuk 2013).

Similar could be said concerning the concept of “Christianism” (more on this concept, see Ryan 2021; for criticism of this concept, see Schmiedel 2021). First of all, it should be noted that this term has undergone some evolution—from denoting a particular “ideology and agenda of the Christian right,” which cannot be called secular (Sullivan 2003, 2006), to denoting an identitarian understanding of Christianity—in its European version combined “with secularist and liberal rhetoric” (Brubaker 2017, p. 1194). As in the case of hijacking religion, it is implied here that this Christianity is simply a shell with no serious religious content behind it. As Philip Gorski writes in this context: “it signified belonging rather than believing: it functioned as a ‘litmus test of national belonging’ while being stripped of any ‘ethical content [or] transcendental reference’“ (Gorski 2016, cited in Brubaker 2017, p. 1206). Based on these considerations, Christianism is declared to be something “entirely secular” (Brubaker 2017, p. 1208).

Once again, we see a mixture of analytical description and value judgments, to which quasi-theological arguments are added. Again, perhaps in some cases the use of the term Christianism with the emphasis that it is something “entirely secular” is justified. However, when applied to Russia, to declare, for example, the concept of the “Russian world” or the agenda of the Russian Christian right as something “entirely secular” means to completely ignore reality. At the very least, one can agree with Marietta van der Tol that the “Russian World,” if we are to call it a variant of Christianism, “transcends the secular-sacred divide” (van der Tol 2025, p. 6; for a systematic examination of the “Russian World” from a theological and political perspective, see Kostyuk 2015). In general, Christianism is a value-laden hybrid of theological criticism (implying a certain correct understanding of Christianity, which is opposed to Christianism) and sociological analysis. According to this logic, if I don’t like how certain actors understand Christianity, then it is not Christianity, but a distortion of it. In the context of the debate about de/secularization, this allows to argue that if desecularization is taking place, then it is not “authentic” (not entirely “religious”).

My criticism of the concepts of Christianism or hijacking religion is not written with the aim of somehow belittling theological analysis (for example, theological criticism of the “Russian World” doctrine, see note 8; see also Gavrilyuk 2024) or the critical dimension of the social sciences. Both are important and necessary. My position is very simple: objective sociological or religious studies analysis, particularly in the context of the debate on de/secularization, should not be mixed with theological condemnation, and analytical judgments should be at least formally separated from value ones.

4.2. The Instrumentalization of Religion

Among all other strategies of explaining religion away, the thesis of the instrumentalization of religion is the most popular (on this concept, see Hasenclever and Rittberger 2000; Hasenclever 2012, 2024; for critical discussions, see Scheffler 2008; Elsner 2025). As Reyko Huang writes, “we are all—or claim to be—instrumentalists now” (Huang 2020, p. 150). The essence of this strategy is to present religion as a tool or “expedient” (see Beckford 2010, 2011) with which the state or some other secular actor achieves goals that have nothing to do with religion. For example, this thesis is actively used in the context of discussions on religion and right-wing populism—as Alberta Giorgi writes:

Research covering the role of religion in the right-wing populist discourse usually adopts the frame of “instrumentalization”, hijacking or exploitation, to shed light on the strategic usage of religion and gender for political gain.

(Giorgi 2022, p. 485; see also Forlenza 2018, pp. 139–41)

The instrumentalization of religion is a very real phenomenon and a very plausible scenario (for an example of the successful “use” of religion, see de Botton 2013). In theoretical terms, the instrumentalization of religion was described by Niccolò Machiavelli, and its most famous practical embodiment was Joseph Stalin’s policy toward the Russian Orthodox Church. The problem with “instrumentalization” is that this concept is widely used today, but at the same time it lacks clear operationalization. One can agree with Huang, that “despite <…> fruitful accumulation of research, religious instrumentalism remains only weakly conceptualized in existing studies” (Huang 2020, p. 150). Some scholars emphasize that instrumentalization is not linked to cynicism and exploitation of religion, while others—for example, in the quotation above—interpret “instrumentalization” of religion and its “exploitation” almost as synonyms (“with different nuances”, Giorgi 2022, p. 485).

I am interested in cases where the thesis of instrumentalization is used in discussions about de/secularization to devalue the facts of the increasing social significance of religion. My criticism does not apply to more nuanced versions of the instrumentalization thesis, which acknowledge “the power of religious identities and beliefs to influence the behavior of those who subscribe to them”, do not deny that “religion can be a powerful driver of action for its followers” or do not question “the sincerity of the religious faiths of those elites who use religion for political ends” (Huang 2020, p. 151; see also Beckford 2010: “My use of the term ‘expedient’ <…> does not imply cynicism on my part or on that of public authorities”). Such nuanced approaches to understanding instrumentalization would only confirm the thesis of desecularization 1—or would be neutral towards it (see also Ozzano 2025).

However, even in the case of such nuanced versions of the thesis of instrumentalization, one may ask: why is it called “instrumentalization” specifically? Why not, for example, the strategic behavior of religious or political actors who are trying to achieve their goals? The very concept of “instrumentalization” already implies something artificial and manipulative, and these implications cannot be removed by any nuances. In other words, “the thesis of instrumentalization is anything but unproblematic” (Hasenclever 2024, p. 903). Jean-Nicolas Bitter and Owen Frazer note correctly:

What, then, does it mean to say that someone is instrumentalizing religion? In common usage, the term “instrumentalization” has both a descriptive and a normative component. It describes how something has a causal role in bringing about a particular effect—that is, how it is instrumental. It also judges someone by implying that they are exploiting, or taking advantage of, that causal power. To say that someone is “instrumentalizing religion” is to suggest that their appeals to religion for the purpose of justifying political choices or policies are not based on shared concerns with the community, whose identity or beliefs they reference; rather, they are pursuing their own separate political agenda, and simply framing their appeals in a way that they believe will mobilize the support of that community. In short, “instrumentalizers” are accused of using people, through their relationship to religion, as a means to an end, rather than valuing them in their own right.

(Bitter and Frazer 2020, p. 2)

These authors specially emphasize that the instrumentalization thesis mixes empirical statements and value judgments (see above, where I consider this issue separately):

We suggest that the term “instrumentalization” functions as a kind of cognitive framing or heuristic device that causes people to conflate these two components of description and judgement. As a result, any situation in which religion is instrumental (i.e., has an effect on a situation) is judged as a morally suspect manipulation of religion for political ends. We believe that this conflation is often based on a narrow understanding of the relationship between religion and politics.

(Bitter and Frazer 2020, p. 2)

This problematic nature of the thesis of instrumentalization is particularly evident in articles devoted to contemporary religious processes in Russia, where this thesis is used to criticize the Russian Orthodox Church, as well as the state, which—according to this logic—has turned religion into an “instrument” or “tool” of its own domestic and foreign policy (see for example, Kilp and Pankhurst 2025; Składanowski 2025). In essence, the thesis of instrumentalization in this understanding boils down to the following idea: there is a cynical state apparatus headed by Vladimir Putin, which uses religion and the Church to rally the population around itself, discredit the opposition, legitimize geopolitical ambitions and simultaneously create an attractive image for citizens of other countries (Russia as the “last bastion of traditional values”, see Stoeckl and Uzlaner 2022). At the same time, neither Putin nor his entourage believe in any religion and treat it as a tool or “expedient” that can be used effectively.

If we try to reconstruct the premises on which the thesis of instrumentalization in this interpretation seems to rest, we get the following picture. Firstly, the existence of rational, powerful actors who can move the course of history at their discretion—for example, by manipulating religion. As Hasenclever and Rittberger write: “Instrumentalists tend to portray the ability of political entrepreneurs to instrumentalise old myths and sacred traditions for their own aggrandisement as virtually unlimited” (Hasenclever and Rittberger 2000, p. 646). Secondly, these actors themselves are, as it were, outside of history—that is, they are not caught up in its processes, they stand above it and determine its course. Thirdly, these actors are not only outside of history, but also outside of ideas—they manipulate ideas, including religious ones, but are not caught up in them in any way (they are driven by a lust for power and a desire to possess as many resources as possible). In other words, a populist politician does not believe that he is really saving the people from dangerous “aliens”; he or she is simply playing on the mood of the masses—and very successfully. In brief, there is a religious facade behind which powerful actors hide, shaping history by manipulating complex historical and cultural phenomena. Without clear operationalization and articulation of the conditions under which the thesis of instrumentalization can be used as a heuristic approach, this thesis begins to resemble something like an academic version of conspiracy theory. Instead of comprehending the complexity of religion’s involvement in politics—in wars, conflicts, political reactions, etc.—one can simply say that malign politicians instrumentalize good religion (which is actually about “faith” and never about “power”) for the sake of power and money.

As a general objection to such an understanding of instrumentalization, the following can be said: it is impossible to reduce complex social phenomena to the manipulations of powerful rational actors. The ability of actors to influence anything is severely limited. The actors themselves are inside the historical process and are caught up in it. The actors themselves depend on the picture of the world that is in their heads—a picture of the world that is determined, among other things, by ideas about how the world is structured (“mental maps”). As Hasenclever and Rittberger put it: “power and interests are embedded in cognitive structures that give meaning to them” (Hasenclever and Rittberger 2000, p. 648). In addition, such instrumentalization is based on a very simple understanding of human nature that basically reduces motivation of political actors to two factors: the thirst for power and money, the pursuit of which is mediated by a manipulative instrumental reason. According to instrumentalists, «most contemporary conflicts are conflicts about power and wealth» (Hasenclever and Rittberger 2000, p. 648), religion here is just an instrument in the hands of elites.

It is impossible to speak of the instrumentalization of religion every time religion relates to politics. The application of the thesis of the instrumentalization of religion must be convincingly justified. Does the thesis of the instrumentalization of religion work in the context of the process of desecularization in Russia? My answer is no. We cannot claim that religion in contemporary Russia is merely a tool in the service of secular forces pursuing secular goals.

First, the “political imaginary” that defines the reality of today’s Russia was formed with the direct participation of religious actors and under the influence of religious ideas (specific political theology; see among others, Kolstø and Kolov 2024) years before “President Putin’s third term, during which we saw Russia’s ‘conservative turn’ and the annexation of Crimea” (Shnirelman 2019, p. 367; see Sidorov 2006). While the state instrumentalized the Church during the Soviet period, today the situation is different: unlike the USSR, the Russian state of today does not have its own ideology separate from the Church and is engaged in implementing precisely those ideas and precisely that vision of Russia that have been developed by religious figures.

Second, religious actors play an active role in the process of desecularization—they can be called “’entrepreneurs’ of dukhovnost’“ (Rousselet 2020, p. 47) or “entrepreneurs of influence” (Laruelle 2025). These are not simply passive executors of state orders—religious actors pursue their own goals: they seek to ban “Satanism,” have “LGBTQ+” recognized as an extremist movement, restrict abortion, etc. The fact that these actors do not always succeed in bringing all their initiatives to fruition—for example, in the case of abortion (Kolstø 2023)—is clear evidence of the active role they play.

One could argue that Putin ranks higher than Patriarch Kirill in the hierarchy of power and therefore it is he who makes the decisions. That is true. But this is not an argument in favor of the thesis of instrumentalization. In the Orthodox tradition, there is no need for the Church to stand above secular power. In the conservative imagination, Putin occupies the place of the “Tzar” or “Emperor” (the image of the “Tzar” in the political thought of Russian Orthodoxy, see Kostyuk 2013, pp. 147–49), who pursues policies that generally correspond to the vision of the Orthodox conservatives. One can agree with Kolov, who writes: “The ROC is subordinated, however, not necessarily to the current political establishment as such but to the broader hegemonic order that the ecclesiastical elites have helped institutionalize in Russia” (Kolov 2024, p. 216).

Despite the problematic character of the thesis of instrumentalization—at least in the Russian context—it has become a common academic cliché that appears in academic papers on religion and politics in Russia, in analytical reports, not to mention discussions of this issue in the public sphere. Most often, it is simply mentioned in passing and has no bearing on the content of academic analysis, but sometimes, this cliché distorts the analysis, framing it in such a way that part of social reality remains in the researcher’s blind spot.

For example, in one recent work, the following sentence can be found: “Since 2009, the Church has been involved in the dissemination of the idea of the ‘Rus’ world’ (Russkiy mir), which was intended to promote Russian culture, language, and values. The ROC has become a tool in Russian foreign policy to promote so-called traditional values as part of an anti-Western cultural policy” (Skladanowski and Smuniewski 2023, p. 6). This implies that the Church is involved in “spreading the idea” of the “Russian world” as if on assignment (“involved”) and that it acts as “a tool in Russian foreign policy” (Skladanowski and Smuniewski 2023, p. 6). Given that the authors’ thinking is determined by the concept of instrumentalization, they ignore the fact that the Church itself developed the idea of the “Russian World” and promoted the idea of fighting for the agenda of traditional values. For example, in 1993 future Patriarch Kirill, then Metropolitan, already used the concept of the “Russian universe” (Sobor 1993), in 2000 he published a two-part programmatic article calling for a cultural war in the name of spiritual values (Metropolitan Kirill 2000a, 2000b). The state and the Church are moving in the same direction, which, of course, does not rule out the possibility of disagreements between them (see above).

Since this point is too obvious to be completely ignored, the author acknowledges at one point that not only does the state instrumentalize the Church, but the Church itself instrumentalizes the state (Składanowski 2025, p. 4; see also, Negron 2025). However, this theme is not developed further, and instead there is an honest admission: he “does not explore the complex, and at times symbiotic, relationship between the state and the ROC in Putin’s Russia” (Składanowski 2025, p. 4). But why? As a result, an important layer of reality simply falls into the author’s blind spot. This leads to a logical one-sided conclusion: at the end of his study, the author states that religious processes in contemporary Russia are nothing less than an “extreme form of secularization” (Składanowski 2025, p. 14).

If we free ourselves from the spell of the deceptive simplicity of the thesis of the “instrumentalization of religion,” we can see complex two-way processes that involve the active participation of religious actors and their influence on political, legal, cultural, and other processes in contemporary Russia. It is precisely this complexity that is captured, for example, in the concept of “entanglements,” which is used by researchers whose approach to understanding religion and politics is more nuanced (see Stoeckl 2020d, p. 53; Köllner 2020, 2024). On the one hand, this concept acknowledges the intertwining of religion and politics, but on the other hand, it does not negate a certain autonomy and independence of the logics of both the religious and political fields.

4.3. Religion Finding “Other Work” to Do

If one is to put it very crudely, previous strategies of explaining religion away were based on the principle: “it is not religion, it is a distortion of religion”; “yes, it is religion, but secular actors use it for their non-religious purposes.” The third strategy I consider—the “other work” to do strategy—is based on a different logic (see Wallis and Bruce 1992, p. 17; Stolz and Voas 2023, p. 1). Here, religion is recognized as an active force, but it is claimed that it is now forced to engage in non-religious activities (otherwise it will not survive)—and because of this, it becomes something non-religious (less religious/not quite religious, etc.).

According to this logic, religion should “relate individuals to the supernatural” (Wallis and Bruce 1992, p. 17), but instead it is forced to engage in other activities that are allegedly alien to it. For example, it becomes the foundation of identity, legitimizes authority, and contributes to the preservation of cultural continuity. As a result, such religion risks losing its religious essence and calling (Pollack and Rosta 2017, p. 200). It should be noted that this strategy of “explaining religion away” is popular among Russian researchers of religion, who often refute the thesis of desecularization in Russia by arguing that this is not a revival of religion, but the imposition of a new ideology under the guise of religion, i.e., religion takes on ideological functions (see Smirnov 2022, 2023, 2024; Malakhov and Letnyakov 2021; see also the discussion “Opravdalas’ li kontseptsiya postsekulyarnogo?”, Arinin et al. 2023).

As with the thesis of instrumentalization, the thesis of “other work” to do is problematic both conceptually and historically. First, it is still the same “pure religion,” and any contact with the world contaminates this “purity.” “Pure” religion simply cannot have any social functions without compromising its religious nature. Second, this “pure” religion is reduced exclusively to the individual pole, detached from social life: it must connect the individual with God or some other supernatural forces (“relating individuals to the supernatural,” to quote the above). This ignores the more ancient, archaic collective dimension of religion, where religion is tightly woven into the functioning of the community (see Agadjanian and Rousselet 2010; see also the discussion of Axial and pre-Axial religions, Taylor 2012; Jakelić 2016; Uzlaner 2024). Third, if we look at religion historically, it has never been “pure”; it has been functional, closely intertwined—undifferentiated—with other social subsystems. It was precisely this differentiation between religion and society, accompanied by the deprivation of religion of its function, that was the essence of secularization 1. The processes of secularization led to the separation of religion into a separate subsystem and the emergence of functional alternatives to religion, which allowed for the emergence of a secular society that did not need the support of religion. Accordingly, when religion is refunctionalized, it is not that religion finds “other work” to do, but rather that it returns to the work it has always done9.

I do not rule out that in some contexts the thesis of “other work” to do is appropriate, but it is definitely not valid as a universal argumentation strategy. Is this strategy applicable to the Russian case? My answer is no. It cannot be said that Russian Orthodox Church found “other work” to do. Orthodoxy is woven into the history of Russia—to the point of an almost inseparable connection between Russian Orthodoxy and the ethnogenesis of the Russian people (Makrides 2013, pp. 338–39)10. In Russia many centuries ago, the connection between religion and identity was postulated almost by default—historians call this the “natural faith” (prirodnaia vera) of the Muscovites (Werth 2014, p. 45), implying a belief in the existence of an almost natural inseparable link between the people living in a given territory and their religion. Contemporary authors develop this ancient intuition into the concept of “ethnodoxy,” which they illustrate with empirical material from Russia (Karpov et al. 2012; Barry 2019).

The Soviet secularization project largely consisted of deliberately breaking this connection—offering a different, non-religious or even emphatically anti-religious identity, creating different “rites of passage” with the aim of consciously replacing religious rituals—“red funerals,” “red corners,” “red Easter” (see Zhidkova 2012; Smolkin-Rotrock 2012; Sokolova 2022). The failure of the Soviet project (Smolkin 2018; Froese 2004, 2008) did not lead to Orthodoxy—especially in the second stage of Russia’s “religious revival”—finding “other work” to do, but rather to the fact that the Church largely returned to the place and functions it had in the Russian Empire: to be the foundation of identity, to sacralize the social order, to uphold the moral image of subjects, and to set the ultimate meaning for the existence of the state. This is not “other work”—this is a return to traditional religious activities. One can speak of a certain correction in the performance of these functions—with an adjustment for the 21st century—but there is simply no sufficient reason to consider this some kind of “other work” to do.

The strategies I have listed for explaining religion away are far from the only ones. One could, for example, mention the thesis of the “visibility of religion” or, as Steve Bruce writes, “notoriety,” which is contrasted with real “influence” (Bruce 2016, p. 378). The essence of this strategy is to try to prove that what we are dealing with is not religion, but only its visibility, behind which there is no reality—only words11. Again, this thesis may be convincing for some cases, but it cannot be applied to the processes of desecularization in Russia, where religious discourses have found their place in the Constitution, and the Russian Orthodox Church has become an influential player in the domestic and foreign policy arena (see Stoeckl and Uzlaner 2022, forthcoming; for the foreign policy aspect, see Curanović 2019, 2021, 2024).

5. Desecularization in Russia and the Theory of Secularization

The arguments outlined above have demonstrated the unconvincing nature of various strategies for explaining religion away. We are dealing—at least in Russia—with desecularization 1 in the sociological sense of the term12. Here, we can only repeat the words of Andrew Greeley, written about the post-Soviet stage of Russia’s religious history: “it is time to accept the fact of dramatic religious change in Russia and to abandon efforts to explain it away” (Greeley 2004, p. 120). But now the following question arises: how does all this relate to the theory of secularization?

In general, various strategies of explaining religion away can be considered a protective belt built around the theory of secularization, which substantiates the thesis of the inseparable connection between modernization and secularization (Stolz and Voas 2023, p. 2). Breaking through this protective belt, we arrive at the theory of secularization itself. Does the case of Russian desecularization 1 refute the theory of secularization? The answer to this question is not as simple as it seems.

First of all, it is important to note a characteristic feature of contemporary versions of secularization theory: the understanding of secularization is shifting from secularization 1 to secularization 2 (see Uzlaner 2025, p. 11). This is a significant break with the previous tradition of sociological study of secularization. What does this shift imply? It allows scholars to overlook, that is, essentially ignore, anything that does not relate to the micro-level and the decline of (individual) religiosity, which is understood as traditional church religiosity, measured through indicators of belief, affiliation, and practice (the “holy trinity” of sociology of religion, Bacon 2018, p. 416). Due to this semantic shift, the case of Russia can be dismissed as irrelevant to both the theory of secularization and even the debate about de/secularization.

Within this understanding of secularization, processes of de/differentiation or re/defunctionalization of religion will be interpreted as not directly related to secularization—these processes will be declared as potential causes of de/secularization or its necessary conditions (for more details, see Uzlaner 2025, pp. 12–15). It will be argued that secularization or desecularization, understood as de/secularization 2, can only be discussed if differentiation has already occurred (i.e., for example, the separation of religion from the state and law). If this differentiation does not exist or has been replaced by dedifferentiation (the state has once again become intertwined with religion), then it makes no sense to talk about secularization or desecularization—all this will be nothing more than “artificial religiosity”—or even artificial irreligiosity (“artificial secularization,” see Kasselstrand et al. 2023, pp. 148–59)—which people are forced to adhere to out of fear of punishment or in order to achieve some pragmatic goals. The differentiation and defunctionalization of religion must first take place—only then can we talk about the beginning, continuation, or end of the process of secularization. Let us remember that in the neoclassical sociological understanding of secularization, the processes of differentiation and defunctionalization of religion are its key dimensions (rather than causes or prerequisites) (Uzlaner 2025, pp. 3–5).

Naturally, if we understand secularization in this way (reduced to the micro-level), then the processes that have been taking place in Russia over the last two decades can be completely disregarded—as can all other cases of the rise of religious nationalism or populism (on these phenomena, see Zubrzycki 2025; DeHanas and Shterin 2021; Zúquete 2017). All of this can be declared cases of dedifferentiation and the associated growth of “artificial religiosity.” In this logic, the words of Jörg Stolz and Maruša Novak, written in 2023 (!), become understandable: “The Orthodox revival has arguably come to somewhat of a standstill” (Stolz and Novak 2023, p. 155). For those for whom the dimension of de/secularization 2 is the only one, the religious revival has indeed ended. For those who remain faithful to the neoclassical tradition of studying de/secularization, this religious revival continues—just on a different level.

But, there is another strategy for defending the theory of secularization. It does not attempt to deny the reality of desecularization by trying to explain religion away. It does not attempt to redefine the understanding of what secularization is13. Here, the possibility of a “religious revival” is acknowledged. However, it is further added that such a revival is already provided for within the framework of secularization theory and is therefore only “temporary” or “transitory” in nature. In other words, desecularization or religious revival are real, but only as temporary difficulties on the path to inevitable secularization (Stolz and Voas 2023; Stolz et al. 2023, p. 594). Further on, within the framework of this strategy, specific mechanisms are explained as to how modernizing societies, under certain circumstances, can come to what may appear to be a religious revival.

For example, Stolz and Voas (2023, p. 1)—continuing in this vein the line of thought developed by Wallis and Bruce (1992, p. 17)—list some of the conditions that may revitalize religion in modernized societies: “reaction” (in the case of a threat from the elite or cultural changes, which in turn mobilizes religious resistance), “transition” (religion as a means of adapting to a new reality), “crisis” (a sharp decline in living standards, leading to the archaization and revival of religion), “state intervention” (the intervention of the state, which for one reason or another imposes religion), and “composition” (e.g., changes in the composition of the population).

Within this approach, the case of Russia can be fully incorporated into the theory of secularization, for example, as an illustration of the thesis about religious revival in conditions of “reaction,” “transition” (the term “conservative aggiornamento” is very appropriate here, see Stoeckl and Uzlaner 2022, p. 8) and “state intervention” (see Kasselstrand et al. 2023, pp. 148–59). Indeed, desecularization 1 in Russia is not happening in a vacuum: the “conservative turn” is in some ways a logical consequence of the post-Soviet period with its very painful transformations. Furthermore, this religious revival can be declared temporary or “transitory,” that is, effective only as long as the social mechanisms described above remain in place.

The main problem lies in the ambiguity of what constitutes “temporary”—and at what point the temporary becomes permanent. For example, in the Russian context, we are talking about the “petrification” of desecularization in the Constitution and in laws based on the Constitution. Such a reality cannot simply disappear in two days—overcoming it will require effort (at least a revolution). To this, I believe, supporters of the theory of secularization could respond that one day all this will disappear, and secularization will continue. Or, as they themselves write: “it is therefore reasonable to expect that secularization will, in the long run, prevail and continue” (Stolz and Voas 2023, p. 11). This sounds like an article of faith.

The next question is: what could possibly falsify the theory of secularization? If we take the arguments of its supporters, then according to their logic, any religious revival can be declared temporary (without further clarification), and any religion that increases its social significance can be declared inauthentic (if we imagine a combination of several defense strategies at once).

For example, one article devoted to defending the theory of secularization states that counterexamples to the theory are possible, explaining further: “A counterexample to the theory of secularization is a country or region that is undergoing modernization but is not experiencing secularization or is instead experiencing a resurgence of religion” (Stolz and Voas 2023, p. 3). However, in another article devoted to analyzing how desecularization is taking place in a modernized country—Georgia (which is to a degree similar in pattern to the Russian case)—the same group of authors concludes that this is not a counterexample, as it can be explained by social mechanisms: “we have shown that the religious revival in Georgia is not a counterexample to secularization theory, since it can be satisfactorily explained with some of the mechanisms proposed for transitory religious revivals” (Stolz et al. 2023, p. 594). That is, modernization is accompanied by secularization (thesis 1), but at the same time, modernization may not be accompanied by secularization (thesis 2) if special social processes are at work “that allow for religious revival even though modernization is occurring” (Stolz and Voas 2023, p. 3). Now: is there anything left that does not fall under either thesis 1 or thesis 2?

It turns out that the only counterexamples to the theory of secularization can be cases in which religious revival occurs in the context of modernization—but as if out of nowhere, that is, without any social preconditions for it. Only such a case does not fall under either thesis 1 or thesis 2. This intuition is confirmed, perhaps, by the only work known to me in which the criteria for refuting the theory of secularization are clearly spelled out. In the book Beyond Doubt: The Secularization of Society, the authors explicitly state that a society that would be both differentiated and rationalized, but at the same time excessively religious would refute the theory of secularization (Kasselstrand et al. 2023, p. 46). In essence, this is a modern society in which religion is not associated with any other social institutions and does not perform any functions but is nevertheless ubiquitous. People simply suddenly turn to religion en masse—apparently out of pure love for God.

Naturally, the case of Russia cannot meet such requirements—religion is woven into political, ideological, legal, and other processes. However, the criteria for such a refutation are completely unrealistic. No society, either in the present, the past, or even the future, can meet the given criteria. It would have to be a society of “religious virtuosos” (who practice religion not for functional reasons, but out of pure love for God) (Condition 1), who would suddenly have to become numerous (Condition 2), while their religiosity would not be intertwined with the social processes of that society (Condition 3).

This violates the most basic principles of sociological thinking about religion, which assumes that there is always some social background to significant religious processes. We are asked to believe that processes are possible without any sociological background whatsoever. It is noteworthy that this does not work in the opposite direction—that is, secularization theorists would hardly agree with the requirement to recognize as authentic only those cases of secularization, i.e., mass rejection of religion, that have no sociological, economic, political, cultural, etc., underlying factors—that is, in essence, to demand a “pure” rejection of religion and, accordingly, “pure” secularity (however, the authors of Beyond Doubt are willing to recognize Soviet forced secularization as inauthentic14). In essence, this is another manifestation of what Berger called “secular bias.”

In general, what was said above brings me to the issue of double standards that underlie the contemporary version of the theory of secularization:

• secularization is permanent (it is simply interrupted at times), while desecularization is always temporary (without any clarification of what “temporary” means);
• secularization caused by social factors is real, while desecularization caused by social factors is not real, not only because it is temporary, i.e., transient or transitory, but also because the religiosity manifested in it is not real (but “artificial”);
• when secular and religious elements are combined, the secular always has the upper hand: religion loses its religious character, while the secular remains true to itself (it is religion-resistant);
• hermeneutics of suspicion only works in relation to religion: it is customary to see secular foundations behind religion, while arguments that religious principles may be hidden behind visible manifestations of secularity, are most likely to be excluded from mainstream debates on de/secularization.

6. Conclusions

In this paper, I identified and described what I called the second stage in the religious history of contemporary Russia. This stage, which began in 2012, is characterized by the continuation of the processes of desecularization that started after the collapse of the USSR. We see the transition of the “religious revival” from the micro- to the meso- and macro-levels. At the same time, it is impossible to predict what will happen next: whether the current trends will soon freeze or, alternatively, move on to some third stage—for example, one in which desecularization will be halted and even reversed, or, conversely, one in which even more radical desecularization will take place.

I have called this second stage in the religious history of contemporary Russia a continuation of the “religious revival.” I understand that this sounds strange—how can something that brings the “dark”15 aspects of religion to the fore be called a “revival”? But, I chose this term deliberately—I wanted to emphasize the ambivalent nature of religion (Appleby 2000; Palaver 2020, 2021). Much has been written about the positive side of desecularization—in the context, for example, of a “post-secular society” debate and claims that religious traditions can offer a cure for the problems of the contemporary world that has gone off the rails (Casanova 1994; Habermas 2006, 2008). However, desecularization brings to the surface also the other side of religion—the very side that caused secularization to begin many years ago: not so much as an automated process, but as a project of intellectual and political elites who wanted—for the reasons that we now understand much better—to limit the presence of religion in their societies (which is why “secularization” was not a neutral concept—it was a slogan in political struggle; see Hunter 2015). “Post-secular societies” are not only societies of “post-secular consensus,” but also societies of “post-secular conflicts” (see Stoeckl and Uzlaner 2020).

I spoke about various strategies of explaining religion away as an example of how academic thinking resists the idea that the religious presence in today’s world should be taken seriously16. In these strategies, one can see, on the one hand, a desire to banish religion—at least at the level of academic discourse—and, on the other hand, a desire to protect it (Scheffler 2008, p. 10). To clarify: this is a desire to protect not religion per se, but the cherished idea of it as something pure, innocent, and immaculate. The outrage over “Christianism” or “hijacking religion” is precisely a reflection of this desire—this is a protest against maligned actors who distort religion.

I understand the depth and rootedness of this idea of “good” religion (see Orsi 2013, p. 183ff), and this text is also my own attempt to deal with this idea within myself. As Jakelić critically notes: “the line between what religion is and what religion ought to be has been blurry since the earliest scholarly imaginings of religion” (Jakelić 2016). But, the academic study of religion requires objectivity and impartiality: the “dark side” of religion and the “dark side” of post-secularity are an objective reality that exists and needs to be studied, requiring immersion in the specifics of such a complex and ambiguous phenomenon as religion.

“Dark” religion cannot be expelled by explaining religion away; countering it requires serious theological work on the part of those for whom, for example, Orthodox Christianity and its teachings are not empty words. Explaining religion away strategies can be called quasi-theology: they serve as patches in places where genuine theological work should be carried out. But, academic religious studies are hardly called upon to do this: their mission is to impartially investigate what is, whatever it may be, in the hope that serious theological teachings will emerge that can mitigate the “dark” dimensions of religion.