The Attack on the Kyiv Pechersk Lavra Shattered the Myth of Russia as a Defender of Orthodoxy
Russian Drones Finished Off the Kremlin’s Propaganda About “Defending Orthodoxy,” While Putin Has Forever Inscribed His Name Among History’s Greatest Barbarians
June 15, 2026, will be remembered as the day Russian hypocrisy reached its ultimate expression—materializing in columns of smoke rising above the golden domes of the Kyiv Pechersk Lavra.
For years, Moscow painstakingly cultivated the image of a global guardian of traditional values, seeking to convince international audiences that believers of the Ukrainian Orthodox Church (Moscow Patriarchate) were supposedly facing systematic persecution in Ukraine. This sprawling disinformation campaign was aimed primarily at Western societies and, it must be acknowledged, occasionally found a receptive audience there.
One of its most prominent amplifiers was former Fox News host Tucker Carlson, known for his highly sympathetic interview with war criminal Vladimir Putin. Speaking about Ukraine, Carlson claimed: “They raided churches and arrested priests. It is outright persecution of Christians, and our country [the United States] is funding it.”
Nor has Moscow's narrative been entirely without influence in democratic Europe, where some political figures and commentators have, to varying degrees, echoed or accepted elements of the Kremlin's portrayal of religious life in Ukraine.
Yet the facts tell a radically different story. It is Russia—not Ukraine—that has systematically destroyed Orthodox churches, killed clergy, and devastated religious communities across Ukraine while cynically presenting itself as their protector. The spectacle of Moscow's supposed “defense of Orthodoxy” increasingly resembles a twenty-first-century inquisition, with attack drones and ballistic missiles serving as its instruments of faith.

As soon as the first images of damage to the Lavra’s main cathedral appeared, the Kremlin’s propaganda machine reflexively activated its familiar playbook, circulating claims about “falling air-defense debris” and a supposed “provocation by the Kyiv regime.” Yet history has a long memory. The Lavra’s main cathedral was already blown up by the NKVD in November 1941, after which Moscow spent decades blaming the crime on Nazi Germany. Today, the heirs of the NKVD are following the same script—while attempting to place responsibility on those who are defending these sacred sites from destruction.
Equally revealing was the timing of the strike. Putin synchronized the attack with the 80th birthday of Donald Trump on June 14 and the birthday of Xi Jinping on June 15—a transparent diplomatic signal that speaks volumes about the Kremlin’s true attitude toward peace initiatives of any kind.
TERROR INSTEAD OF PROTECTION: MORE THAN 700 CHURCHES DESTROYED AND OVER 20 CLERGY MEMBERS KILLED
According to Viktor Yelenskyi, head of Ukraine’s State Service for Ethnopolitics and Freedom of Conscience (DESS), any remaining illusions that Moscow still operates within ethical constraints have now been decisively dispelled.
“There are no targets on our territory that they are unwilling to attack,” Yelenskyi told Ukrinform. “The Kyiv Pechersk Lavra is the resting place of the Venerable Fathers of the Caves. It is the cradle of Eastern European Orthodox monasticism. Yet even that did not stop them.”
The Moscow Patriarchate and its leadership have explicitly set themselves the goal of destroying Ukrainian culture, identity, and statehood. They have openly declared that they came not to liberate people, but to ‘liberate this land from them,’” said Viktor Yelenskyi, Doctor of Philosophy and head of DESS.
The scale of Russia’s destruction of religious heritage in Ukraine is staggering. By the fifth year of the full-scale invasion, Russian attacks had damaged or destroyed more than 700 religious sites. Orthodox communities have borne the heaviest losses. As of the end of February 2026, 395 churches belonging to the Ukrainian Orthodox Church (Moscow Patriarchate) and 76 churches of the Orthodox Church of Ukraine had been damaged or destroyed.
But Orthodox communities are far from the only victims. Russian strikes have also damaged or destroyed 194 Protestant houses of worship, 32 Greek Catholic and Roman Catholic churches, seven mosques, 22 synagogues, 11 religious educational institutions, and 18 buildings belonging to other religious communities.

These figures reflect a paradox that Yelenskyi articulates with devastating clarity:
“The Ukrainian Orthodox Church in unity with the Moscow Patriarchate—the very church whose protection the Kremlin so often claims to champion—has suffered the greatest losses. Russia has destroyed more than 350 of its churches, killed more than two dozen of its priests, and effectively deprived it of eight dioceses in southern Ukraine, northeastern Ukraine, and Crimea. We are talking about thousands of parishes.”
In other words, the religious community Moscow most frequently invokes as a pretext for its actions has become one of the principal victims of those same actions. The gap between the Kremlin’s rhetoric and the reality on the ground could hardly be more stark.
The list of prominent religious sites damaged by Russian attacks speaks for itself. The Sviatohirsk Lavra in the Donetsk region endured repeated shelling attacks, culminating in the destruction of the wooden All Saints Skete by fire. In July 2023, a Russian missile pierced the roof of Odesa’s Transfiguration Cathedral and struck its central altar. In the spring of 2026, attacks on central Lviv damaged the Bernardine Monastery and the seventeenth-century Church of St. Andrew. Now, that grim list has been expanded by a direct strike on the Dormition Cathedral of the Kyiv Pechersk Lavra, following an earlier attack on Saint Sophia Cathedral in Kyiv.
What makes these attacks particularly significant is that virtually all of these sites enjoy UNESCO protection, placing them among the most important cultural and religious landmarks not only in Ukraine but in the heritage of humanity as a whole.
The fate of clergy in Russian-occupied territories provides another revealing illustration of the contradiction between Moscow’s rhetoric and its actions. Yelenskyi points to the case of Father Kostiantyn Maksymov of the Zaporizhzhia Diocese:
“The case of priest Kostiantyn Maksymov is especially telling. He was sentenced to 14 years in prison solely because he refused to place himself under the direct authority of Kirill.”
The irony is difficult to overlook. Maksymov remained within the ecclesiastical structure that Moscow claims to be defending, yet received a lengthy prison sentence for demonstrating too much independence from that very Moscow.
For Yelenskyi, the conclusion is unavoidable:
“Those who sought to convince the world that they were defending believers of the Moscow Patriarchate are, in reality, killing those very believers, destroying their churches, and persecuting their priests.”
UKRAINE’S RESPONSE: BETWEEN MORAL OUTRAGE AND DIPLOMATIC MOBILIZATION
Ukraine’s leaders and religious figures were quick to frame the strike as an attack extending far beyond the country’s borders.
President Volodymyr Zelensky described it as:
“Another act of Russian barbarism and a strike against the Christian community and the cultural heritage of humanity. Russia is proving that nothing is sacred to it, and that its so-called ‘protection of believers’ is merely a cover for the genocide of the Ukrainian people.”

Metropolitan Epiphanius, Primate of the Orthodox Church of Ukraine, called the attack “a crime against humanity, history, and Christianity.”
Ecumenical Patriarch Bartholomew was equally unequivocal:
“This is a diabolical war, and the fact that churches are being destroyed and holy sites devastated by Russian shelling only confirms that.”
Taken together, these reactions reflected a common assessment: the attack on the Kyiv Pechersk Lavra was not merely another strike on Ukrainian territory, but an assault on a spiritual and cultural legacy that transcends national boundaries.
Ukraine’s Foreign Minister Andrii Sybiha argued that by striking the Kyiv Pechersk Lavra—one of Christianity’s most revered holy sites—Putin had secured a place among history’s most notorious barbarians.
“We are dealing with Russian terrorists who have already surpassed ISIS in their crimes against cultural heritage,” Sybiha said.
INTERNATIONAL REACTION: A COMMON MESSAGE, DIFFERENT TONES
The international response was swift and broadly condemnatory, although varying in tone and intensity.
It is worth recalling that the Kyiv Pechersk Lavra enjoys enhanced protection under the 1954 Hague Convention for the Protection of Cultural Property in the Event of Armed Conflict and its 1999 Second Protocol. This status provides an important legal foundation for future international proceedings concerning damage to protected cultural heritage.
Italian Prime Minister Giorgia Meloni placed the attack at the center of discussions among G7 leaders:
“When attacks do not stop even at millennium-old symbols of Christianity, we need unwavering support for Kyiv.”
French Foreign Minister Jean-Noël Barrot perhaps conveyed the significance of the strike in terms most readily understood by a Western audience:
“For us French, this is the equivalent of bombing Notre-Dame or Saint-Denis.”

Leaders from the Baltic states and Central Europe—countries with long experience of Russian imperial ambitions—were among the most outspoken in their assessments.
Estonian Foreign Minister Margus Tsahkna highlighted the contradiction at the heart of the Kremlin’s narrative:
“Russia likes to portray itself as the guardian of Christian civilization. By striking the Kyiv Pechersk Lavra, it has once again demonstrated its barbarism and contempt for humanity’s shared heritage.”
Lithuanian President Gitanas Nausėda struck a similar note:
“In Russia’s attacks on the Kyiv Pechersk Lavra, one of the most important Orthodox holy sites, we see a reckless disregard for human life, cultural heritage, and the very spiritual tradition that Russia claims as its own.”
Czech President Petr Pavel interpreted the strike as an expression of frustration rather than strength:
“This attack is yet another example of Russia’s barbarism—its deliberate destruction of something it will never possess.”
Collectively, these statements reflected a growing international consensus: the attack was not merely a strike against Ukraine, but an assault on a religious and cultural legacy that belongs to the wider world.
Moldovan President Maia Sandu perhaps captured the contradiction most succinctly:
“Those who claim to defend Christian values have bombed the Kyiv Pechersk Lavra, one of Orthodoxy’s holiest sites. True faith never bombs cathedrals.”
In the United Kingdom, Home Secretary Yvette Cooper described the strike as “an act of deliberate sacrilege.”
Belgian Deputy Prime Minister Maxime Prévot was equally direct in his assessment:
“The Kyiv Pechersk Lavra has stood for nearly a thousand years. There is no military logic here—only the deliberate infliction of suffering on people and damage to a heritage that belongs to all humanity. Those who ordered these strikes must one day be held accountable.”

A noteworthy signal also came from within the circle surrounding the U.S. president, suggesting that Russian actions had crossed lines that could not simply be ignored. Mark Burns, a spiritual adviser to Donald Trump, wrote:
“May God protect Ukraine, comfort its people, and bring peace to this suffering nation.”
THE COLLAPSE OF IMPERIAL ILLUSIONS IN THE MIRROR OF UKRAINIAN SOCIAL MEDIA
Among Ukrainian commentators, the attack prompted not only outrage but also reflection on the deeper historical and ideological roots of Russia’s relationship with the Lavra.
Prominent journalist and political commentator Vitalii Portnykov placed the strike within a much longer historical continuum:
“The Russians have always hated it—the Kyiv Pechersk Lavra—both as a symbol of defiance and as a great holy site whose stature could not be matched by the churches of Vladimir-on-the-Klyazma, Suzdal, or even Moscow itself. That is why they have always sought to desecrate it, destroy it, occupy it, and establish their own agents there.”
The word “always” is central to Portnykov’s argument. In his view, the attack of 2026 belongs to a historical chain stretching from the NKVD’s destruction of the Lavra’s Dormition Cathedral in 1941 to the Geran drones and Iskander missiles of the present day.
Dmytro Sherengovskyi, Vice-Rector of the Ukrainian Catholic University, approached the issue from a different angle, focusing on the psychology of failed imperial appropriation:
“For centuries, the empire tried to appropriate the Lavra, incorporate it into its own historical myth, and present it as proof of its own legitimacy. But it failed—the Lavra never became theirs. And when an empire cannot appropriate a shrine, it begins to regard it as something alien.”
In this interpretation, the strike was not merely an act of military violence but also an acknowledgment of failure: the collapse of a long-standing effort to subsume one of Ukraine’s most important spiritual symbols into the imperial narrative of a supposedly shared historical and religious space.
Diplomat and former head of the Secretariat of the UN Security Council, Oleksandr Matsuka, views the attack not as a calculated strategy but as a symptom of a deeper reality:
“In essence, this is an act of desperation. The Kremlin has finally come to terms with the fact that it will never conquer Ukraine. That is why it is lashing out. Moscow’s rhetoric about ‘defending Orthodox values’ has proven to be just as false as its claims about ‘protecting the Russian-speaking population.’”

Journalist Myroslava Barchuk offered a perspective that was at once sobering and paradoxically reassuring:
“The strike on the Lavra means that Putin no longer expects to one day ‘pray there,’ and that the Kyiv Lavra is no longer viewed as a ‘Russian holy site,’ as they claimed in 2022. In desperation, the Russians are firing at their own fabrication—the myths of a ‘common cradle,’ ‘Orthodox spiritual unity,’ and ‘one people.’ In other words, they are attacking a narrative they ultimately failed to impose.”
Historian Vakhtang Kipiani suggested a more immediate explanation for the timing of the strike:
“A few days ago, the Russian Orthodox Church was finally required to leave the Far Caves. This is revenge for our desire not to be Russians.”
Historian Oleksandr Alfyorov distilled the issue to its essence:
“They do not protect holy sites. They destroy them.”
Taken together, these assessments point to a broader conclusion. The attack on the Kyiv Pechersk Lavra was not merely another episode in Russia’s campaign against Ukraine. It also represented a profound contradiction at the heart of the Kremlin’s own narrative. A state that has long presented itself as the defender of Orthodoxy struck one of the most important spiritual centers of Eastern Christianity. A regime that claims a shared historical and religious heritage with Ukraine targeted one of the most powerful symbols of that heritage.
In that sense, the strike inflicted damage not only on a sacred site but also on the ideological foundations of Russia’s own claims.
Yet this act of rage and destruction has delivered neither military advantage nor ideological victory. If anything, it has reinforced the very identity and resolve it sought to undermine. Ukrainian society continues to transform grief into resilience, ensuring that the damaged shrine will be restored and that the spiritual legacy it embodies will endure.
The smoke that rose above the Lavra’s golden domes may have marked a moment of destruction. It also marked the collapse of one of the Kremlin’s most enduring myths: that Russia stands as a defender of Orthodoxy rather than one of its principal destroyers in Ukraine.
Myroslav Liskovych, Kyiv