thority of the pope in Rome, and that of the East-
ern (Greek) Church under the authority of the Pa-
triarch of Constantinople (Byzantium). Although
the two churches were not formally in opposition
at the time—the Great Schism occurred in 1054—
nevertheless they had grown apart over the cen-
turies, and each had developed its own distinctive
features. Vladimir chose the Byzantine version, a
decision with consequences at many levels. How-
ever, the nature and extent of Russia’s Byzantine
heritage has been controversial. Some have argued
that, since Christianity was imported into Rus from
Byzantium, the culture that grew therefrom can-
not be said to have been merely influenced by
Byzantium: it simply was Byzantine, a local de-
velopment from and within the broader Byzantine
tradition. Others, by contrast, stress the active na-
ture of cultural borrowing—namely, the adoption
and adaptation of selected elements of Byzantine
culture to serve local needs and hence to develop a
native culture that, while indebted to Byzantium
in superficial aspects of form, was indigenous in
substance and essence. Such are the crude extremes.
The more productive discussion lies in the nuances
between the two.
For seven hundred years from the official Con-
version, high-status cultural expression among the
East Slavs of Rus and then of Muscovy was almost
entirely limited to the celebration, affirmation, and
exposition of Christianity, and hence was almost
entirely limited to the appropriate forms inher-
ited—directly or indirectly—from Byzantium. In
painting this was the age of the icon: not really art
in the modern sense (as the product of an individ-
ual artist’s imaginative creativity), but a devotional
image, a true and correct likeness according to the
approved prototypes. In architecture, public spaces
were dominated by churches, whose basic design—
most commonly a cross-in-square or domed cross
layout—was Byzantine in origin. As for writing,
90 percent or more of all that was written, copied,
and disseminated was ultimately derived from
Church Slavonic texts translated from Greek. Over
time, cultural production in all these media could
of course acquire local features—in the develop-
ment and composition of the full-height iconosta-
sis, for example, or in the elaboration of roof-tiers,
the onion-shaped dome, or in the robust styles of
native chronicles—and local perceptions of such
cultural production could vary widely. Overall,
however, the Byzantine links were explicit, and
Byzantium remained the acknowledged source of
authoritative example and precedent.
A Byzantine churchman visiting Rus would
thus have found part of the surroundings famil-
iar; but still he would not have felt entirely at
home. Outside the explicitly ecclesiastical, the Rus
reception of Byzantine culture was more patchy.
For example, Byzantium itself maintained a tradi-
tion of classical Greek learning, but there is little or
no sign of any Rus interest in this before the late
seventeenth century. Byzantium possessed a large
corpus of written law. Church law (canon law)
was in principal accepted by Rus together with
Christianity, but in practice could be assimilated
only gradually and partially through accommoda-
tion to local custom, while Byzantine civil law (de-
rived from Roman law) seems to have made not
made an impact. The Rus did not, therefore, accept
Byzantine culture as a complete package. The bor-
rowing was partial, selective, and thus in a sense
non-Byzantine.
The continuing Rus reception of Byzantine cul-
ture in the later Middle Ages is somewhat para-
doxical: as the visual elements (e.g., styles of
painting and building) became progressively diluted
through local developments, so the non-visual el-
ements (e.g., ideas, ideology) were more assidu-
ously adopted into official culture. The Muscovite
State of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries was
more Byzantine in its structures than any of the
earlier Rus principalities, in that it was a relatively
unitary empire headed by an autocrat supported
by a growing administrative bureaucracy. More-
over, since the fall of Constantinople to the Turks
in 1453, it was self-consciously the only surviv-
ing Orthodox empire and thus could be projected
as Byzantium’s successor. Emblems of this new
status were woven into the fabric of Muscovite self-
presentation: in the formal adoption of the title of
tsar for the ruler; in the establishment of a patri-
archate in place of the old metropolitanate; in the
construction of imperial genealogies linking the
Muscovite dynasty with Imperial Rome; in tales of
the transfer of imperial regalia from Byzantium to
ancient Kiev; and in the articulation of the notion
that Moscow was—in world-historical terms—the
“third Rome.”
Ostensibly the reforms of Peter the Great
brought about a decisive break. Peter’s new capital
was a radical statement of non-Byzantinism in the
physical environment, and Western Europe became
the new model for prestigious cultural production,
whether in architecture and painting or in writing,
printing, performing, and philosophizing. The
Church continued to produce icons and profess the
BYZANTIUM, INFLUENCE OF
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ENCYCLOPEDIA OF RUSSIAN HISTORY