Political scientist and founder of the SIKHA foundation research institute, Archil Sikharulidze (A.S.), during a press conference at the Multimedia Press Center of Sputnik Georgia (S.G.) on June 30, 2025, explained why religious institutions have become targets of systemic attacks and what similarities can be observed across different post-Soviet countries. The discussion concerns not only faith but also the values that are currently being contested [TRANSCRIPT]:
S.G.: Archil, welcome.
A.S.: Thank you.
S.G.: Our first question. Ukraine, Moldova, Georgia, and now Armenia—we are witnessing how so-called pro-Western politicians pursue an active and aggressive anti-church policy, accusing clergy and the Church itself of anti-state sentiments. How would you assess this process, and what underlies such a common trend?
A.S.: Thank you for the invitation. Indeed, over the past ten days, we have been observing fundamental developments in Armenia. There is no definitive answer as to why Nikol Pashinyan chose to act now. However, based on available information, some believe he is attempting to escalate tensions ahead of the parliamentary elections scheduled for June 7, 2026. In doing so, he may be seeking to provoke a crisis that would allow him either to resign or manipulate the situation to shift political responsibility. Pashinyan is well aware of his low approval ratings in Armenia. By contrast, the Armenian Apostolic Church (AAC) retains greater prestige than the prime minister himself. Thus, as elections approach—and despite his chances of winning—the crisis is apparent, and he may aim to redirect public frustration toward other institutions and actors.
More broadly, what we are witnessing is a crisis of the global value system. This is what Samuel Huntington referred to as the “clash of civilizations”—a confrontation between Western civilization and those outside its fold. The former claims the right to dictate how people should live, what they should learn, and how they should exist within their own countries.
Interestingly, in unison with Pashinyan, Georgia’s fifth president, Salome Zurabishvili, recently accused the Georgian Orthodox Church (GOC) of anti-democratic attitudes and collusion with the ruling party, Georgian Dream. I do not see this as a coincidence, but rather as an expression of a shared ideological narrative. These figures recognize that the Church, in its current form, obstructs not merely political reforms, but foundational societal reforms—reforms aimed at reshaping hearts and minds. This is crucial. Given the well-documented connections between liberal actors in Armenia and Georgia, I would not be surprised if this is part of a coordinated ideological message. I use the term “so-called” deliberately, because one can be a liberal without endorsing the notion that the Church poses a threat to the state or liberal ideology as such.
S.G.: Very well. Let’s discuss specific countries. It is no secret that there is communication and cooperation among pro-Western actors in the region. Could you outline the concrete goals they pursue in Tbilisi, Yerevan, Kyiv, Chișinău, and elsewhere?
A.S.: The overarching goal is quite simple. Consider the West. I have often argued that in the West, God, in the form in which He was previously known, is effectively dead. This philosophical notion, which has existed for some time, implies that certain religious concepts have become outdated in the context of modernity. Religion has fallen behind the 21st century. The idea of the 21st century, while conceptually vague, comes with a clear vision: that the state, institutions, presidents, governments, NGOs, and businesses should replace all those functions once preserved, nurtured, and sustained by the Church.
In Tbilisi, the Church—and particularly its leader, Patriarch Ilia II—is a significant variable. Next year marks the 1700th anniversary of the Church’s establishment in Georgia, bringing it close to 2000 years of existence. This illustrates the institution’s vital role in Georgian society. Historically, the Church stood firm when there was no government, no army—perhaps no one at all. Society found itself alone with the Church, and through it, with God. Thus, under President Mikheil Saakashvili, there were attempts to reach an agreement with the Church to support his reforms.
But Church leaders, seasoned and discerning, recognized that those reforms would ultimately relegate the Church to the background. When cooperation failed, Saakashvili moved toward attempting to control the institution. Today in Tbilisi, there are figures in open confrontation with the Church. Their goal is not reform, but subjugation.
In Yerevan, as discussed, elections loom. Amid widespread frustration—total frustration, in fact—Pashinyan seeks to shift blame from his government to healthier institutions. Despite his “pro-Western” political label, it is clear his administration is failing in its duties. Consequently, scapegoating the Church becomes a politically expedient strategy.
Chișinău presents a similar scenario. Moldova is a semi-Soviet state where many of the reforms implemented in Tbilisi have not even been conceptualized, let alone planned. Compared to Georgia’s political liberalism and system development, Moldova lags 15 to 20 years behind.
Ukraine is a unique case—a strikingly successful example of societal emancipation from the post-Soviet legacy. This is a country where Christmas was reassigned to December 25. It is a country actively fighting the Russian language and the phenomenon of “surzhyk” (a mix of Ukrainian and Russian). Ukraine’s war has also contributed to this process. In times of conflict, local elites know that Europe, as a geopolitical ally, will turn a blind eye to various reforms and transgressions—even those that contradict European values. For instance, banning the use of the Russian language or intimidating people for using it in daily life is not consistent with European standards. Nevertheless, the goal of Ukraine’s “democratic reforms” is clear—and it is not hidden by local politicians, Europeans, or Americans: to sever ties between Kyiv and Moscow, and to create a mental and cultural chasm between Ukrainians and Russians.
To foster new thinking and a new mentality, work must be done at the level of spiritual and moral values. Hence, the Church in Ukraine is under strict government oversight. This is undoubtedly the most “successful” precedent in the post-Soviet space.
S.G.: You’ve already partly answered my next question, but I’ll ask it anyway. During the Soviet era, religion was banned. Yet after the collapse of the USSR, countries like Georgia experienced a kind of spiritual renaissance. What developments occurred in other post-Soviet countries in this regard?
A.S.: I believe that when we speak about the post-Soviet space, we often overlook Central Asia. In fact, we tend to forget the non-European part of the former Union. Yet it is a vast and strategically significant region.
Overall, yes—if we take, for example, Georgia and Armenia—we can undoubtedly speak of a spiritual renaissance. It was less successful in Armenia, phenomenally successful in Georgia. I would say the success of the religious revival depended directly on the Church itself and its leader. In Georgia’s case, Patriarch Ilia II succeeded in convincing the population that he was a genuinely devout individual who cared for his flock and for the country’s citizens.
In Russia, Ukraine, and Belarus, the Church has always played an important role in cooperating with the state. Let’s admit that historically, Georgia and Armenia have been more religious than the aforementioned countries. Therefore, the symbiosis between Church and state was, is, and will remain a feature of the lands of ancient Rus’.
Central Asia, however, presents a particularly interesting case because, in the classical sense, these territories lacked stable statehood for a long time. There was political fragmentation, and when these countries gained independence, they were led by figures with strong political authority—and with them came Islam. Islam, unlike Christianity, is not a centralized religion.
Accordingly, a form of religious renaissance is taking place there as well, but gradually and under the careful supervision of local governments. Islam is finding its place in these societies, and over time we will be able to draw some interesting conclusions.
S.G.: When we speak about religion, we often imply Christianity. You’ve already mentioned Central Asia, where Islam predominates. Could you elaborate on the specific threats and challenges that countries in Central Asia face in this context?
A.S.: If I may, before turning fully to Central Asia, I would like to say a few more words about Georgia. Many people forget that our country has a large Muslim community—an “umma”, to use the Arabic term.
Although Georgia is essentially a Christian country, about 11% of its population belongs to some branch of Islam. And these are not just ethnic Azerbaijanis, but also ethnic Georgians—which is particularly interesting, because when we speak of Georgia, we instinctively think of Georgians as Christians, preferably Orthodox. Being Georgian often implies speaking the Georgian language, promoting Georgian culture, and adhering to Orthodox Christianity.
Yet, a significant portion of society identifies with Islam. If this were only about ethnic Azerbaijanis, one might brush it aside—they are citizens of the country, and the matter ends there. But here we are talking about citizens of Georgian descent for whom the discrepancy between their Islamic faith and the dominant Orthodox Christianity presents a challenge—a problem of identity. Sadly, we speak far too little about these individuals.
There is, more broadly, the issue of Georgian Muslims—particularly in the Adjara region, where tensions have arisen over the construction of a new mosque. This dilemma is directly linked to the confrontation between liberal values and the Church. For the former, a Georgian is simply a citizen of the country. For the latter, the question is more complex: for many years, to be Georgian meant, in one way or another, being tied to Orthodoxy. Orthodoxy absorbed everything that defined “Georgianness.” Thus, what we are dealing with is not merely a struggle for political influence between, for example, the fifth president Salome Zurabishvili and the Church. It is also about what it means, at this moment, to be Georgian. What qualities are essential? Is it enough to be a citizen of Georgia? If you ask someone with Georgian parents whether a foreigner who acquires citizenship becomes Georgian, they would find it difficult to answer. These are not topics typically discussed in Georgia—we simply haven’t raised them.
Returning to Central Asia: the political structure in these countries is highly vertical. Each is governed by individuals with substantial political authority. As a result, the spread of religion mainly takes place among ordinary people—those who feel the government fails to address their problems. Religion tends to fill these vacuums—spaces where the state does not intervene or simply cannot cope. You asked about threats. At present, virtually all Central Asian countries face challenges associated with radical Islam—forms of it that reject the concept of statehood and instead base identity primarily on belonging to the “umma”. And this is no laughing matter. For instance, Tajikistan has banned certain Islamic attire on the grounds that it contradicts Tajik identity. In Kazakhstan, concerns are growing over radical Islamic groups exploiting poverty and hardship in certain regions to expand their influence.
S.G.: Since you brought up the spread of radical Islam, could you tell us more about how countries in the region are responding to this threat?
A.S.: I previously mentioned Tajikistan—just recently, women were banned from wearing specific garments in stores and supermarkets. The reason cited was the fight against Arabization and the spread of traditions alien to Tajik culture. According to the country’s political elite, this is not the kind of culture that should be promoted in their state.
In Kazakhstan, the focus is on working with the youth—persuading them that certain Islamic practices are incompatible with the country’s values. Alongside many prohibitions, the state is also actively monitoring individuals it deems threatening and is conducting educational outreach—particularly in rural regions.
I emphasized earlier that in all post-Soviet countries, the regions suffer significantly from lack of attention and education. We both understand that radical ideas tend to take root where people lack answers to basic socio-economic questions—how to survive, how to preserve family, how to maintain one’s values. Radical groups offer simple, direct answers grounded in dogma. People who have not received an education, and who may know little to nothing about the Qur’an or Sunnah, are especially vulnerable to such ideas.
Turkmenistan, of course, must be considered separately. Its political and social systems are under total state control. But in other countries of the region, challenges remain with regard to the spread of radical religious ideas. Fortunately, there is now a growing awareness that it is not enough to gather in capital cities or political centers and debate 21st-century trends. These ideas must also reach the regions. People outside capital cities often have no idea what is happening in Dushanbe—or in Tbilisi, for that matter.
S.G.: Thank you very much. One final question. Could you describe how former Warsaw Pact countries—Poland, Latvia, Lithuania, and Estonia—approach spiritual values and deal with modern challenges?
A.S.: The case of Poland is particularly instructive. A recent Western television segment described a crisis within the Polish Church. Historically, Poland has been known as the most devoutly Catholic country in Europe—and it still officially holds that status. But even there, churches are beginning to empty. The reason is simple. On one hand, the Church claims to uphold moral and traditional values. On the other, the political system insists that we live in the 21st century, and that the only legitimate values are those enshrined in the Constitution—everything else is subject to debate.
As a country’s economy develops, the main force behind any religion or ideology—its youth—gravitates toward money and everything that wealth affords: status, travel, education, progress. As a result, in Poland and especially in the Baltic states, the Church finds itself under threat. The local Catholic Church now faces a choice: either modernize—at least partially abandon dogmas it has upheld for centuries—or remain as it is and await a “return of history.” We all know history is cyclical. Sooner or later, a crisis will cause people to lose faith in the prevailing political system, and they will once again turn toward conservatism—which typically leads people back to religion, and through religion, to God.
This challenge is not unique to the Catholic Church; it applies equally to the Orthodox Church in Georgia. The latter continues to proclaim that its mission is to save the soul—not to improve one’s financial, social, or political standing. So far, the Georgian Church is succeeding in fulfilling that mission—unlike the Catholic Church in the Baltics. Time will tell whether Catholicism will reconcile itself with modernist ideas in order to retain its flock, especially the younger generation.
S.G.: Thank you very much, Archil.
A.S.: Farewell.
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