Paganism in Lithuania and in much of Europe is receiving more recognition from governments, but still has some way to go toward receiving equal treatment with other religions, writes Chas Clifton in his Pagan studies blog Letter from Hardscrabble Creek (December 14). The large Lithuanian Pagan movement Romuva, which was formally organized in the early 20th century, has recently received a higher level of official recognition after years of rejection by Lithuania’s parliament. Romuva applied for official recognition in 2017, but at the time the parliament rejected the move. The organization later appealed to the European Court of Human Rights (ECHR), which ruled in 2021 that by refusing official recognition, Lithuania’s parliament violated the European Convention on Human Rights. Clifton notes that Lithuania’s rulers abandoned Paganism in the 1200s and the country became majority Roman Catholic. “But if any European country did have a hidden ‘Pagan survival,’” he writes, “it was Lithuania. Or the nearest thing to it.” After the fall of communism, Lithuania established a hierarchy of “registered” religions, though some observers say this system may be on its way out.
Source: Wikimedia Commons
The recent ruling means that Romuva has moved from being in the first tier (as a “registered” religious organization) to being in the second tier (as a “state-recognized” religious organization). This will permit the group to have its religious marriages automatically counted as state marriages without the need for a separate trip to the registry office. Clifton notes that the change in status for the religious organization is not so much a change in status for the religion; Lithuanians have freedom of religion and conscience and can practice their religions without registration. But registering as a religious organization provides the ability to act as a legal corporate entity (for example, to collect funds in an organization-owned bank account), as well as providing social and psychological legitimation. “One of the most important metrics for making the jump upwards is to have been registered as an organisation at level 1 for at least 25 years,” Clifton adds. Since Romuva reached that criterion long ago, its two-time refusal could credibly be seen as discrimination.
Nevertheless, a new government with a different composition of MPs was enough to move Romuva up a rung (the Jehovah’s Witnesses’ case for similar recognition is pending). But if Romuva seeks to move to the next rung of “traditional religion,” they may be entering murkier waters. The state only recognizes nine traditional religious communities (Roman Catholic, Greek Catholic, Evangelical Lutheran, Evangelical Reformed, Russian Orthodox, Old Believer, Jewish, Sunni Muslim, and Karaite), and Romuva will have to make the claim that they are “part of Lithuania’s historical, spiritual and social heritage.” Clifton writes that this will involve showing that Romuva is a continuing ancient tradition, and some scholars dispute that claim. Before the debate starts about connecting the archeological and historical dots to show the continuity between ancient Pagans and Romuva (which organizationally started only in the late 1960s), Clifton suspects that the “clock is ticking on these kinds of laws, anyhow. They are out of touch with the rest of EU law, and they regularly run afoul of the European Court of Human Rights. I would bet that Lithuania tosses out the whole ladder system long before Romuva manages to climb to the highest rung.”
(Letter from Hardscrabble Creek, https://blog.chasclifton.com/)
