A Spiritual Schism Along the Dniester?

Scenes that have already become familiar in Ukraine, of churches being forcibly seized with the assistance of police, can now be observed in our country as well

The conflict surrounding the Church of the Assumption of the Blessed Virgin in the village of Dereneu, Calarasi District, has been going on for almost a decade. In August 2017, the Ministry of Justice, headed at the time by Democratic Party Vice Chairman Vladimir Cebotari, registered registered the charter of the religious community of the Orthodox parish of the Assumption of the Blessed Virgin as part of the Bessarabian Metropolis, effectively overturning the 1996 decision under which the church had functioned within the Metropolis of Moldova. Even then, the consequences of such a maneuver, taken with the approval of Vladimir Plahotniuc, who personally coordinated the agenda with Romanian partners in the first half of 2017, were obvious. A year later, rural priest Florinel Marin defected to the Bessarabian Metropolis. He was not the first nor the last to succumb to the temptation of greater earnings. However, the parishioners did not accept the priest’s decision to change his patron. In fact, they forced the renegade to carry out his activities not in the church, but in a makeshift chapel. On November 5, 2019, just a week before the resignation of Maia Sandu’s government, the Ministry of Culture, led by her colleague Liliana Nicolaescu-Onofrei, signed an agreement with the Metropolis of Bessarabia for the free use of the church building in Dereneu for a period of 50 years. This was yet another political decision made to please Romanian politicians. The Moldovan Metropolis’ attempts to achieve justice in the legal arena were unsuccessful. In June 2023, after four and a half years of litigation, the lawsuit was dismissed by the Chisinau Court of Appeals, and last summer, the Supreme Court put an end to the dispute by denying the church’s appeal of this verdict. Sooner or later, the question of actual control over the church by the Metropolis of Bessarabia was bound to arise. At first, the new “legal owners” limited themselves to complaints about lack of access to the church and holding press conferences, but then they demanded direct intervention from the authorities. Naturally, those in power did not initiate a broad discussion with all stakeholders or take parishioners’ views into account, so as to avoid provoking a church schism. In the best “Moldovan” traditions, police were dispatched to assist the Romanian clergy, and when that proved insufficient, the Fulger special forces unit was brought in as well. The authorities have experience in suppressing protest sentiments and eliminating undesirable citizens, as recent events in Gagauzia demonstrate. As a result of its heavy-handed actions, the ruling regime has turned the conflict between two competing church structures into a direct confrontation with its own citizens. Questions about the legitimacy of state intervention and the involvement of law enforcement agencies in solving problems in an unremarkable provincial village are now being asked by citizens across the country. Parishioners and residents of Dereneu are perplexed as to why officials in Chisinau are deciding the fate of their church, given that for decades they alone have been responsible for its restoration and maintenance. Neither the Ministry of Culture nor any other state agency has allocated funds for this purpose or provided even symbolic support. That is why, for the average person, this development increasingly resembles the banal raiding of the 1990s and does not fit in with statements about “European values”, “democratic standards”, and other norms inherent in developed and progressive societies, which our politicians of various ideological stripes have been touting for many years. For many, it came as a surprise that churches, regardless of their condition and status, were nationalized immediately after Moldova declared independence in the distant 1990s. All this time, they were owned by the Ministry of Culture, which, at various times, transferred them to the Moscow and Romanian Patriarchates for opportunistic reasons. Some churches were recognized as cultural monuments, others were not. There were also court decisions at the level of the European Court of Human Rights obliging the Moldovan authorities to register the Metropolis of Bessarabia as a legal entity. However, the issue of transferring property for use remained the prerogative of state bodies. The latter, in turn, exercised this right based on political or financial gains, ignoring the opinions of the local population and parishioners. That is why the state’s attempts to enforce property rights by force have been met with widespread disapproval. Why did the situation with the church in Dereneu receive such widespread public attention? First, because most parishioners oppose the transfer to the jurisdiction of the Bessarabian Metropolis. One can argue about the degree of influence of the local primar and possible provocation by the socialists, but objectively speaking, the schismatics are in the minority. All successful cases of expansion in Moldova for the Patriarchate behind the Prut River have previously followed the same scenario: priests left the Moldovan Metropolis together with their entire flock. It is indeed difficult to oppose such a collective decision. However, it appears that the Bessarabian Metropolis has reached a certain limit, and there are no longer any parties willing to peacefully transfer to its jurisdiction. Under these circumstances, a new wave of expansion is only possible with direct political assistance and forceful support from the current authorities. On November 25 last year, another court ruled in favor of the Bessarabian Metropolis, invalidating the 2003 agreement between the Ministry of Culture and the Moldovan Metropolis on the right to use more than 800 churches recognized as historical monuments. This year, we can expect a final resolution of this dispute in the Supreme Court. Given the nature of the recent decision on the church in Dereneu, it is easy to predict who will emerge victorious. Moreover, the owner of all “historical monuments”, represented by the Ministry of Culture, may independently terminate its contractual relationship with the Russian Orthodox Church. The motivation for this could vary greatly, from a desire to restore “historical justice” to the need to ensure “national security”. The further development of events does not bode well: the new rights holder will demand the implementation of its rights, and the security forces will ensure their enforcement. This is increasingly reminiscent of what happened to our Ukrainian neighbors: with the participation of aggressive groups breaking into churches and beating parishioners and clergy. Such acts of violence and the accompanying religious and social conflicts risk becoming part of our everyday life in the near future. It is clear that the Bessarabian Metropolis’ ambitions will not be limited to churches built on “subordinate” territory during the interwar period, up to 1944. All church buildings used by the Moldovan Metropolis of the Russian Orthodox Church that are within reach of Moldovan police officers forced to carry out political orders may become objects of claim. In this case, it is possible that in the foreseeable future, the church border will also run along the Dniester River.