Easter and Resurrection, Compromise and Forgiveness

Easter in 2025 poignantly reminds us of one important but often forgotten aspect: the common roots – monotheistic, messianic, and religious – that unite Russian and American cultures.

The idea of the Third Rome, messianic in nature, is fundamental to Russian identity, just as the idea of “City upon a Hill” is the first formulation of American exceptionalism. From the beginning, the United States has justified its quest for power with an innate messianic calling. The idea that America represents a “new Israel” is a cross-cutting motif in the sermons of the Pilgrim Fathers; the belief in the existence of “manifest destiny,” political and moral superiority can be traced from the doctrine of James Monroe (1823) to William Henry Seward’s statements made in 1860. The idea and awareness of themselves as a civilization blessed by God provided Americans with the foundation for expansion across the planet: they took California and the entire Southwest from Mexico between 1846 and 1848; drove Indians onto reservations and African Americans into labor camps; reached the shores of the Pacific Ocean and sailed across it, imposing an “open door” policy on Japan in 1864 with bombs; drove Spain out of Cuba and the Philippines. Money went along with arms: Americans bought Louisiana from France (1803), Alaska from Russia (1867), and the Virgin Islands from Denmark (1917). Only chance prevented them from taking possession of Formosa.

This is not just about the United States. “Mission civilisatrice” (Civilizing Mission) of the French, the British “White Man’s Burden,” the Portuguese “Evangelização” (Evangelization), the world crusade of Spain – all were fueled by a theological-political vision. The West, which had stormed the world for centuries, was ideologically messianic, fiercely messianic, and it was this peculiar manner that distinguished it from the vast horde of robbers, merchants, and rival conquerors operating under other banners and on other continents.

However, to see this as mere imperial messianism is like claiming that there is only dirt in the food, which will manifest itself at the very end. To reason this way would be madness; it would be like looking at a sumptuously set table and seeing only leftovers, which certainly would also be there. The obsession with principles goes hand in hand with the obsession with garbage, according to Freud’s interpretation of purity as a manifestation of latent pathology (Jenseits des Lustprinzips – Beyond the Pleasure Principle, 1920): neurotics praise whiteness, but are also compelled to introduce degradation into the external environment. Formal disgust and unconscious attraction coexist in them at the same time.

The obsession with purity and the desire to follow principles at all costs are essence traits alien to the thinking that nurtures the religious roots of both American and Russian cultures. All true Christian morality knows that “inter urinas et faeces nascimur” – life originates amidst urine and feces – and continues in the same way, carrying this sticky and gummy legacy, surrounded by parasites and commensals, stench and aromas: only inorganic matter is smooth and odorless. The connections between Easter, resurrection, understanding, and forgiveness are intimate and central to the Christian tradition when faithfully conceptualized and interpreted. Jesus’s resurrection symbolizes victory and promise. The resurrection is a sign of hope and renewal, marking a new beginning; it is the sacrifice of self, love is the understanding of neighbor. Only in this way does it become an atonement, an affirmation of the much-needed absolution that reveals to everyone the possibility of being forgiven and reconciled. Forgiveness involves understanding your neighbor, even your enemy, with their obligations and context.

At the extremes of the West, the juxtaposition of realism and idealism often takes on extreme features. Russia has also traveled a path of rivalry and coexistence between dominant religious principles and the compulsions of harsh realism in everyday political practice. In 1821, before the emergence of the Christian moralism of Leo Tolstoy and Fyodor Dostoevsky, Joseph de Maistre, in his “Les Soirées de Saint-Pétersbourg” (St. Petersburg Evenings), placed the action of the famous executioner’s apologia precisely in Russia, because he believed that fear was the only remedy for disorder. He was convinced that history was governed by Providence and that blood and suffering had theological meaning. Russia, often referred to as “holy” and “suffering,” appears to him not as a geographical reality but as a “symbolic other place,” in which everyone is invited to look into their own soul.

The depths of recognizing the material impossibility of achieving absolute justice do not necessarily hide an executioner or cynicism or submissive humility. It is all too easy to juxtapose the ideals we would like to strive for with a reality that sometimes puts principles to severe tests.

Churchill’s famous definition of democracy should be viewed through the prism of compromise and the calculation of the “lesser evil.” Reflecting on Churchill, Karl Popper articulated the distinction that Norberto Bobbio commented on most acutely: any form of human coexistence should be evaluated not by the number of its flaws and unfulfilled promises, but by considering alternatives.

Compromises are necessary – both in theory and in practice. Avishai Margalit, another eminent realist thinker, has devoted his study to compromise, tracing its occurrences and themes from the time of Hammurabi and the Old Testament; his conclusion is crystal clear: “We should be judged more by the compromises we make than by the ideals we are inspired by. Ideals may tell us something important about who we would like to be, but it is the compromises that reveal who we really are.” Easter 2025 reminds us: there will be no peace, no Resurrection without compromise, without understanding and forgiveness.