The Icon and the Axe

Alexis, however, was not prepared to build his rule on laws rather than autocratic authority, or to speak in the language of the chanceries rather than the chronicles. Having conceded a code to the rebellious city dwellers, he turned to a program of xenophobic distraction-discriminating against foreign merchants and convening in 1651 and 1653 zemsky sobers to sanction mobilization against Poland, then the protectorate over the Ukraine, which made war inevitable. At the same time, Alexis turned in ¦!' I"' iiiim for administrative support and spiritual guidance to a monk

named Nikon, in whom the theocratic answer to Russian disorder found its last and greatest exponent.

Nikon was an ascetic from the trans-Volga region who awed his contemporaries with both spiritual intensity and physical presence. Shortly after arriving in Moscow as head of the New Monastery of the Savior (Novospassky), this six-foot six-inch monk cast his spell over young Tsar Alexis, who began to have regular Friday meetings with him. The decisive event in Nikon's career appears to have been the arrival in Moscow in January, 1649, of Patriarch Paissius of Jerusalem. He was impressed by Nikon and helped secure his appointment as Metropolitan of Novgorod, the second highest position in the Russian hierarchy. Nikon for his part appears to have been dazzled by Paissius' retinue of priests and scholars, who brought with them tales of the Holy Land and of the lost splendors of the Greek Church.

Paissius told of the horrors he had seen in the Balkans and the Ukraine, pleading for "a new Moses" who would "liberate pious Orthodox Christians from unclean hands, from wild beasts-and shine like a sun amidst the stars."29 The call for deliverance was addressed to the Tsar, but he-like his father before him-felt the need amidst widespread social unrest and intrigue to lean upon die Patriarch. Thus, in November, 1651, the Tsar began pairing his own name with that of Patriarch Joseph in official charters, while commencing a theatrical transfer of the remains of past patriarchs to the Moscow Kremlin for reburial. The remains of Patriarch Hermogenes were exhumed and venerated; and Alexis sent Nikon to Solovetsk to bring back to the Cathedral of the Assumption the remains of Metropolitan Philip, whose murder by Ivan the Terrible had given an aura of holy martyrdom to the ecclesiastical hierarchy. While Nikon was still gone, Patriarch Joseph died; and within a few weeks Alexis wrote Nikon a long, half-confessional letter of grief addressed to "the great sun" from "your earthly tsar."30 Clearly Nikon was some kind of higher, heavenly tsar, and it is hardly surprising that he was appointed Joseph's successor as Patriarch in July. For six years, Nikon became the virtual ruler of Russia, using the ecclesiastical hierarchy and the printing press to extend the program of ecclesiastical discipline he had developed at Novgorod.

In the far-flung see of Novgorod, Nikon dealt not only with a rebellious, Westward-looking city, but also with the chaotic and primitive northern regions, where he had previously served as a monastic administrator. There Nikon became attached to ecclesiastical splendor and magnificence as a kind of compensation for the bleakness of the region and the asceticism of his personal life. As Metropolitan of Novgorod, he was able to extend and even tighten central control over the monasteries of the north by securing

from the Tsar complete exemption from subordination to the new governmental department created by the law code of 1649 to regulate monasteries.

As patriarch, Nikon not only shared with the Tsar the title "Great Sovereign," as had Philaret, but in fact exercised sole sovereignty when the Tsar went off to lead the battle against Poland. Nikon used this position to set up a virtual theocracy in Moscow with the aid of visiting Greek and transplanted Ukrainian and White Russian prelates. Not just the Patriarch, but the entire episcopal hierarchy was given a new aura of majesty. Theatrical rituals were introduced, more elaborate vestments and miters required, and elaborate church councils held with foreign Orthodox prelates participating. The traditional Palm Sunday procession, in which the Tsar led the Patriarch on a donkey through Red Square in imitation of Christ's entry into Jerusalem, was instituted in the provinces, where local civil authorities were encouraged also to humble themselves in this way before local metropolitans and bishops.31