On Tuesday night, just hours after being transferred to intensive care with massive gastric bleeding, Patriarch of the Georgian Orthodox Church Ilia II passed away, bringing to a close his 48-year leadership of the country’s largest and most influential religious institution.
Amidst his growing frailty in recent years and his gradual withdrawal from public life, the fatal deterioration of Ilia II’s health came as little surprise. Nor was it a shock that, once this happened, the news overshadowed everything else in the country, with many framing the Patriarch’s passing as ‘the end of an era’.
Enthroned in 1977, entire generations in the country grew up without knowing any other leader of the Georgian Church; His tenure spanned pivotal moments in Georgia’s recent history, from the anti-Soviet national liberation movement to the numerous political and social upheavals of an independent state.
However, the length of his tenure was not the only factor that defined the nature of Ilia II’s leadership and shaped him, as one theologian told me, into a ‘mythical figure’, respected en masse both within the Church and beyond, and largely shielded from any form of public criticism for many years.
For me, as for many children born in the late 1990s, the Patriarch felt close to something transcendent, about whom even a half-joking remark among classmates was something hardly thinkable.
I still remember the sense of surprise I felt as a child when my neighbour said ‘I don’t believe in Ilia’. I also recall the same sense of astonishment 16 years ago when a page appeared on Facebook titled ‘I Don’t Like My Patriarch’, with a photo of Ilia II crossed out with a red X.
My reactions — and not only mine — were natural: the Patriarch was consistently portrayed almost as a living saint, whether on TV screens, at school, or out in the streets.
But what accounted for the depth of his popular standing?
In recent days, many explanations have been offered — Ilia II’s efforts to dramatically expand a Church that had been severely weakened and repressed during the Soviet era; his ability to reach every social layer, ethnic group, and religious community; or the way he was perceived by the wider public as a stabilising figure during times of political turbulence and divisions.
‘The Church’s congregation is a minority, albeit a devout one, yet the authority of the Church, and especially of the Patriarch, extends far beyond the boundaries of its faithful’, political analyst Ghia Nodia said in a post published after the Patriarch’s death.
However, this somewhat monolithic picture began to change in recent years.
Scandals and alleged criminal activities within the Church came to light and increasingly became subjects of public debate — alongside issues such as the clergy’s business activities and wealth, alleged Russian influence over the Church, and the controversial relations between the latter and ruling political authorities.
Also controversial were the clergy’s blunt and confrontational public statements and actions, as well as their involvement in far-right, homophobic violent gatherings — something the country had witnessed repeatedly since the early 2010s.
And although surveys indicated an apparent diminished public trust in the Patriarchate, this did not necessarily translate into reduced trust in the Patriarch himself. But the long-standing taboo on criticising him had begun to somewhat loosen as well.
Following the first reports of the Patriarch’s death, social media exploded with condolences, photos of Ilia II, memories, and obituaries — including from some who had previously been openly critical of him. Yet others refused to soften their stance, assessing his legacy as sharply as they had before.
The discussion will continue, as will conversations over what comes next, and who will succeed the man who led the country’s foremost religious institution for nearly five decades. In any case, whoever takes his place, many doubt they will ever reach the same heights of public prominence.
