In January 1952, a small Pentecostal group in northwestern Bohemia was seeking permission to gather regularly for worship. The local state official was inclined to grant their request because he considered the believers to be reliable citizens. However, reluctant to shoulder the responsibility for the decision, he wrote a letter to the district's capital. While his supervisor expressed no objections, he was also hesitant to make a clear decision. Just to be sure, he formally inquired with the State Office for Church Affairs (SOC) in Prague, the Czechoslovak capital. A few days later, the response arrived: the matter of the Pentecostals and ‘sects’ in general is yet to be decided. Act as you see fit!Footnote 1
The rise of communist hegemony in postwar Europe was marked by the repression of any real or imagined opposition, which, among other things, led to the creation of diverse underground communities ranging from political dissidents to participants in alternative music scenes. Believers occupied a somewhat unique position within these groups. In theory, they were supposed to be protected by the constitutions; however, in practice even when most of the religious organisations were not forced to operate entirely in secrecy, their situation became dire, as any proper Marxist could quote the famous line about religion being the opium of the masses. Criticising religion played a significant role in building socialism, and believers, even unintentionally, were seen as impeding the progress toward the ultimate goal of reaching communism.
Following the lead of the Soviet Union, postwar Central Eastern European countries introduced new religious policies with the aim of reducing the wealth and influence of numerous Christian denominations.Footnote 2 However, the actual implementation and impacts of these policies varied widely due to the region's diverse political and religious landscape. By examining the creation of specifically Czechoslovak policies concerning three banned religious minorities (Jehovah's Witnesses, the Pentecostal movement and the Seventh-day Adventist Church), this article argues that while Czechoslovak communists adopted the legal framework of the Soviet Union, they were not informed by Soviet realities when dealing with religious minority groups. Instead, the circumstances of believers were significantly shaped by the spiritual differences among denominations, local dynamics and the decentralised nature of the system. The evolution of these policies was a complex and often subtle process, resulting in markedly diverse outcomes for different groups.
Comprehensive comparative research focusing on religion under communist regimes in Central Eastern Europe practically does not exist.Footnote 3 However, it is evident that Czechoslovakia, together with Romania, is often cited as one of the harshest and most unpredictable examples of communist antireligious policies. Following the takeover in 1948, the new regime embarked on a process not too different from the Soviet approach that was delineated at the end of the 1920s. Church property was nationalised, and all church personnel were required to enter into an official relationship with the state as paid workers, making them existentially dependent. All priests, pastors, and other religious authority figures were required to sign a proclamation of loyalty to the people's democracy.
Already in 1949, the State Office for Church Affairs was created as the main religion-supervisory organ of the state administration. It had the same position as a ministry, and by appointing so-called church secretaries, it was in charge of controlling all religious activities. By far, the most attention was given to the Catholic Church, which, as the main Czechoslovak religious organisation, was considered the main ideological enemy. A great number of the Church's hierarchy, popular priests, members of newly banned religious orders, or lay intelligentsia ended up in prisons, labour camps or under house arrest.Footnote 4 The Greek Catholic Church was outlawed completely. However, even the smaller Protestant churches, which usually embraced the socialist project more so than the Catholics, soon came under state scrutiny as well.
In relation to non-registered religious organisations, the authorities conducted an inventory mandating that each either acquire legal recognition as a church or undergo dissolution.Footnote 5 This necessitated not-yet-registered churches to prove their legitimacy by presenting a clear organisational structure and bylaws in order to acquire legal status. However, in practice, not every religious organisation merited classification as a church, nor were all inclined to forge close, entwined relationships with the state. Moreover, not all believers within registered churches fully adhered to the new rules imposed by the communist administration.
Although the strict regulation of religious life affected all believers, it did not automatically lead to the demise of spirituality. Drawing on the conceptual framework developed by scholars James A. Kapaló and Kinga Povedák, the emergence of a ‘religious underground’ became evident.Footnote 6 This term refers not only to communities and practices existing beyond the bounds of official recognition or legal sanction, but also to a broad spectrum of religious activities that, while not explicitly illegal, operated in a grey area of toleration and repression. By focusing on the religious underground, we can gain a deeper understanding of the diverse ways in which religious groups navigated and resisted state control, illustrating a dynamic interplay between repression and religious expression. Investigating state reactions to these ‘invisible’ communities and their practices allows us to explore the complexities of religious life under repressive regimes, highlighting both the constraints imposed by state power and the creative responses of religious actors.
In this article, I will focus on three Czechoslovak groups that were driven into the religious underground in the very early days of the communist dictatorship. The circumstances faced by Jehovah's Witnesses, the Pentecostal movement and Seventh-day Adventists were very similar. All three had been officially approved organisations during the previous era. They were pejoratively labelled as sects by officials of the State Office for Church Affairs, meaning they were considered more harmful, extremist and dangerous than other churches. All were quite small, consisting of only a few thousand members (but still larger than any local dissident organisation). And ultimately, all three faced forced dissolution – Jehovah's Witnesses in 1948, Pentecostals in 1951, and Adventists in 1952. Despite these similarities, their future trajectories were distinct and shaped by different state policies and the idiosyncrasies of their respective spiritual doctrines. In my view, the interplay between this similarity and divergence offers a novel lens through which we can better understand the functioning of the state apparatus. This analysis contributes to a richer understanding of the conditions that co-determined the lives of religious actors in socialist Czechoslovakia.
Existing scholarship that focuses on the relationship between religious groups and communist states has traditionally been concentrated on well-established organisations, with relatively less attention given to analysing religious minorities.Footnote 7 In the context of research on communist Czechoslovakia, a comprehensive analysis of the relationship between the state and religious minorities (and especially those deemed to be illegal) is missing altogether.Footnote 8
Recently, the contribution of scholars such as Catherine Wanner, Emily Baran, Zoe Knox and others broadened the classical scope and showed that exploring the experiences of the believers at the margins of society offers crucial insight into the whole system.Footnote 9 Drawing inspiration from this perspective, my ambition is to demonstrate that histories of religious organisations that were situated at the peripheries of societal acceptance, allow us to see state socialism from a new angle, while at the same time, the history of state socialism can contribute to understanding the experiences of believers under conditions of religious unfreedom.
In relation to the three Christian groups under study, I take the position of an ‘outsider’, not an ‘insider’. I have no affiliation with or unique knowledge of any of the organisations beyond my academic training as a historian and the referenced materials.Footnote 10 From a chronological point of view, the article deals with the early phase of the communist dictatorship (1948–56), which in Czech historiography is often referred to as the Stalinist period.Footnote 11 As the primary goal of the study is to explore the perspective of the state, the emphasis was placed on archival research with the aim of creating a comprehensive collection of materials that illustrate both the negotiation of religious issues at the political centre and local practices. Therefore, the main source base comprises ‘state’ documents from the National Archive of the Czech Republic, the Secret Service Archive, and the Slovak National Archives. These sources allow for an exploration of the attitudes of the official state church administration, as well as the interventions by the Ministry of Interior and the Secret Police at both central and local levels. Additionally, I have sought, whenever possible, to juxtapose these internal state materials with public media portrayals and the perspectives of religious actors themselves.
A common challenge when studying religious minorities is reconstructing the diverse positions and experiences of the believers, as the necessary source base is often lacking. This issue applies to the groups at the centre of this study. Due to the non-existence, incompleteness, or inaccessibility of private archives, alternative sources were required. A key resource in this endeavour is the materials produced by the secret police, housed in the Secret Service Archive in Prague and the Archive of the National Memory Institute in Bratislava. These documents are invaluable not only for understanding the actions of the secret police but also for providing significant testimonial insights into the religious actors themselves because of the communist control apparatus's disproportionate focus on the margins of religion.Footnote 12 Additionally, the study incorporates published documents and personal accounts whenever possible to juxtapose against state-produced materials. However, even when combining materials from the state administration, secret police informants, and personal descriptions, analysing the inner-group dynamics remains challenging and often only the most prominent can be reconstructed. This is because religious groups often omitted information of this nature in later accounts, and state material is scarce, as the state police in the early 1950s lacked the vast informant networks that were common in later periods.
Faith as a Crime: Jehovah's Witnesses
Jehovah's Witnesses, in a similar manner to other Czechoslovak religious groups, entered the postwar period with great expectations. After the Nazi occupation, in which many of their leaders ended up in concentration camps and believers were forced to practise their faith in secrecy, they were once again able to engage openly and continue freely with their evangelising work, an essential part of their belief system. Even after experiencing membership losses due to repressions and the postwar mass expulsion of Czechoslovak Germans, they quickly surpassed their prewar numbers. By 1948, they had an average of 1,581 active members.Footnote 13
The professed religious freedom and tolerance within Czechoslovak society in the immediate postwar period had its limitations because the restoration of the state was driven by Czech nationalistic sentiments. A pronounced emphasis on renewed unity and willingness to deal with any real or perceived enemy became an everyday reality for the populace. The societal narrative projected a façade of homogeneity and exclusion.Footnote 14 In stark contrast to this image, Jehovah's Witnesses took a radical departure, considering themselves ‘not of the world’, which signified a commitment to strict neutrality in political matters.Footnote 15 Consequently, they not only rejected nationalism but also abstained from involvement in various forms of political or mass organisations. They were also known as conscientious objectors, which differentiated them from other religious groups.Footnote 16 Concurrently, they interacted with the ‘profane’ world regularly, both in everyday situations and particularly in their evangelistic activities, which often resulted in misunderstanding and outright hostility from society more broadly.
Despite their relatively small numbers, the Witnesses have always aroused strong emotions, in no small part due to their confrontational rhetoric and harsh criticism towards other Christian groups.Footnote 17 Particularly in the Slovak environment, their evangelising activities were met with resolute rejection and sometimes violent reactions.Footnote 18 Even in more secular Bohemia, they did not escape critique. For example, Josef Kubalík, an influential Czech Catholic theologian, defined them as a movement that was ‘a naive mixture of outrageous fables with some sort of biblical basis and crude, demagogic denunciations of the true Church of Christ’.Footnote 19
The activities of the Witnesses also drew substantial scrutiny from state authorities. Their refusal to carry arms in the context of mandatory military service, international contacts with their headquarters in the United States and massive colportage (at a time of general paper shortage) repeatedly aroused suspicion, especially amongst the personnel of the Ministry of the Interior. Their dissolution was considered as early as 1945 and the State Security (Státní bezpečnost; StB) actively engaged in collecting information not only on active members but also all subscribers of the Witnesses' magazine, The Watchtower.Footnote 20
In subsequent years, the Ministry of the Interior failed to arrive at a definite consensus regarding the potential course of intervention. Nonetheless, they routinely disregarded the Witnesses' teachings as irrational, and more significantly, as potentially dangerous. From the state's perspective, adherents to this faith did not embody the ideal of nationally conscious and orderly citizens who would unhesitatingly fulfil the duties imposed upon them by the secular authorities. For instance, a secret policeman assigned to report from the Witnesses' convention held in the city of Brno in Moravia in 1947 arrived at the following conclusion:
The fanaticism of the members of the association is remarkable. It is inexplicable how a reasonable person can believe their arguments and follow their teachings with complete devotion. It is probable, as was already demonstrated under German Nazism, that Jehovah's Witnesses can endure great hardships and oppression without changing their convictions. This fanaticism could easily be exploited by their leaders.Footnote 21
The era of the Third Czechoslovak Republic (1945–8) was relatively peaceful for the Witnesses, despite the prevalence of conflicts and a general atmosphere of mistrust from the authorities. That changed abruptly with the Communist Party's takeover in February 1948. The hesitation within the Ministry of the Interior ended, which marked a definitive shift in the status of the Witnesses, who were promptly designated as a subversive group and became one of the first religious victims of communist persecution. In November 1948, the StB launched a nationwide operation encompassing arrests, searches and the confiscation of huge quantities of printed material. Notably, this ended without an official restraining order, which was only served to the detainees four months after their arrest.Footnote 22
The extensive interrogations that ensued can be regarded as the first significant ‘personal’ experience of state officials with Jehovah's Witnesses. These interactions swiftly revealed that the StB had severely underestimated the believers. Despite years of information gathering, the secret police were not able to understand the strength of their convictions. Even under duress, most Witnesses refused to provide any specific statements, contending that their actions were not in opposition to the state and were purely religious.Footnote 23 Nevertheless, charges were filed against seventeen of the arrestees, although the planned trial was not held due to the absence of clear and presentable evidence. The imprisoned believers were still not set free but were discreetly sent to labour camps for two years.Footnote 24
The intervention of state forces paralysed the Jehovah's Witnesses’ further actions. The evangelism was diminished, the distribution of printed materials decreased and the connections between congregations severed, especially between the Czech and Slovak ones.Footnote 25 However, the believers were quickly able to adapt to the new conditions. They began to operate in secrecy and organise themselves in smaller groups, which they had already been accustomed to during the Nazi occupation. According to official statistics from the organisation's headquarters in Brooklyn, after the initial shock was overcome, the Witnesses even grew, specifically from 1,209 in 1946 to 3,705 in 1951.Footnote 26 Unfortunately, due to the lack of other sources, it is impossible to fully verify these numbers. Nevertheless, it is reasonable to assert that, notwithstanding the persecution, membership in Czechoslovakia was significantly increasing.
The state's intervention in 1948 was soon regarded as an utter failure. The religious underground was booming, and the StB estimated that the number of Witnesses had risen to a hard-to-believe figure of 10,000.Footnote 27 As early as 1951, the Ministry of the Interior began to consider further actions. The new objective was to obtain sufficient irrefutable evidence of anti-state activity and prepare ‘an exemplary public trial which will show the masses of the sect members that their religious feeling has been misused for hostile activities against the Republic’.Footnote 28
The new nationwide repressive action against the Witnesses was launched in Prague at the beginning of February 1952. Over 850 searches were carried out, countless printed materials were confiscated and 120 arrests were made.Footnote 29 The condemnation of the believers was to take place via show trials, a common practice in contemporary Czechoslovakia.Footnote 30 The legal proceedings unfolded in two stages: first, a central trial held in the capital, followed by subsequent regional trials targeting local leaders. All planned actions were to be disseminated through press and radio, aiming to show the inhabitants the danger of ‘sectarianism’ and to facilitate subsequent efforts of the State Security in combating it.Footnote 31
Due to the various negotiations and postponements, the Czechoslovaks were spared the judicial theatre. The trials did not take place in public and the citizens could only read a brief summary of the proceedings through the daily press.Footnote 32 Similarly, the subsequent anticipated show trial involving the Witnesses in 1955 was not publicised at all. The official explanation was that there was a risk of disclosing state secrets.Footnote 33 A more probable reason is that the StB already understood the Witnesses' resilience and were unable to guarantee that the defendants would testify according to a prearranged script.Footnote 34
The fundamental flaw in the StB's strategy was the false assumption that imprisoning the leaders of any ‘sect’ would eventually cause its members to abandon their beliefs.Footnote 35 However, even though Jehovah's Witnesses were a highly hierarchical organisation, they were able to react flexibly to changing circumstances. Their leadership, especially Bohumil Müller, who had previous experience with underground operations from the Nazi occupation, anticipated imprisonment. They always created contingency plans and secretly named successors to key leadership positions.Footnote 36
The state's repressive measures were accompanied by deliberate efforts to undermine the legitimacy of Jehovah's Witnesses' faith. Public and private criticism of their teachings emanated from both atheists and other Christian denominations, mainly Roman Catholics.Footnote 37 First, they characterised their doctrine as ‘narcotised delirium’, and second as ‘disfigurement of true Christianity’.Footnote 38 Despite the conventional classification of Jehovah's Witnesses as a ‘religious sect’, their spiritual practices were deemed so extreme that they transcended the parameters of a ‘normal’ religion. Consequently, the Witnesses' belief in God ceased to be their defining characteristic, and they were not primarily treated as a religious denomination.
Any activity of the Witnesses in the early communist period took on a political dimension. Gathering in apartments for Bible study became a conspiratorial anti-state meeting. Reporting the number of Czechoslovak adherents to their headquarters abroad in the United States became an act of espionage. Evangelising fellow citizens became an exhortation to political resistance, and refusal to bear arms meant undermining the defences of the state. Jehovah's Witnesses came to be predominantly perceived as an anti-state organisation, a characterisation that, within the Eastern bloc during the postwar era, helped to legitimise widely implemented repressive measures.Footnote 39 Therefore, the actions taken against the Witnesses in the first half of the 1950s cannot be understood solely as repression motivated by anti-religious sentiments, but as measures primarily rooted in political considerations.Footnote 40
In the Czechoslovak case, the Jehovah's Witnesses were stripped of all rights enjoyed by members of officially recognised churches after 1948. They were given no option of legalisation or affiliation with an alternative religious group. There was no negotiation. Notably, the State Office for Church Affairs, functioning as a main control body for religious matters, took no interest in Witnesses. Instead, the believers were perceived as members of a hostile political organisation, were fully under the supervision of the Ministry of the Interior and subjugated to the constant harassment of the State Security.
Jehovah's Witnesses continued to practise their faith underground, openly in opposition to the values of socialism and wider society. In contrast to the Pentecostal movement and the Seventh-day Adventist Church, Witnesses perceive conflict, particularly with secular authority, as a manifestation of true Christianity. Conforming to secular laws that contradict one's conscience was taken as a sign of a false religious conviction.Footnote 41 While Witnesses did make occasional attempts to attain legalisation, whether in Czechoslovakia or elsewhere in the Eastern bloc, it is noteworthy that such formal recognition was not deemed essential for the continuation of their religious practices. After all, they considered communist rule to be part of the dominion of Satan, just like Catholicism, Protestantism, and fascism.Footnote 42 Reconciliation then remained unattainable, and a confrontation with the state became an inevitable outcome.Footnote 43 One could even say that Witnesses had the ideal operating system to thrive in the hostile environment of the religious underground.
Anti-religious policies in communist Czechoslovakia gradually affected all religious organisations. The uniqueness of the situation of Jehovah's Witnesses lies in the speed and willingness of the state apparatus to deal with this organisation. The first interventions took place as soon as 1948, before the promulgation of the so-called Church Laws in 1949 and the amendment of the association law in 1951, which effectively created the basis for controlling religious organisations. The methods and extent of the repression were primarily made possible by the lack of religious and political capital that historically stemmed from the nonconformist behaviour of the believers during previous periods, especially from the era of the Third Czechoslovak Republic (1945–8).Footnote 44
The treatment of the Jehovah's Witnesses in Czechoslovakia was similar to other countries, and not just those within the socialist bloc.Footnote 45 There are many similarities with the Soviet Union, but the sources do not indicate any direct foreign influence. Instead, any parallels stem first from the general contemporary attitudes towards the Witnesses, second from the treatment of religion in the Eastern bloc and, finally, from the willingness of the believers to operate in the religious underground even under the threat of severe consequences and in direct opposition to the state authorities.
Negotiating Autonomy: The Pentecostal Movement
Pentecostal believers welcomed the end of the war with hopeful anticipation. While they did not face the same level of repression as Jehovah's Witnesses, many of their congregations were prohibited under Nazi rule, making the immediate postwar era a period of rebuilding and renewal. In Czechoslovakia, there was no singular Pentecostal movement; instead, different groups of believers were scattered across the country. In the subsequent paragraphs, my focus will primarily be on the two largest groups: Svaz rozhodných křesťanů letničních (The Association of Resolute Pentecostal Christians) located in the eastern part of today's Czechia, and Apoštolská viera (The Apostolic Faith) in Slovakia.
Compared to other religious minorities, Pentecostal Christians found themselves in an uncertain position after the onset of communist rule.Footnote 46 Like the Jehovah's Witnesses, they were deemed extremist in their practices and were also labelled as a sect. The major difference was that they did not openly challenge the secular authorities, and their leaders pursued dialogue with the new government. They actively tried to reconcile the law of God with the law of the land. And even when it was not possible, they couched their opposition in conforming behaviours. Catherine Wanner has aptly called this practice ‘defiant compliance’ in her study on Ukrainian evangelicals.Footnote 47
Despite their efforts to reach a consensus, the Pentecostals were unsuccessful and found themselves with two options: either they had to apply for official recognition or were compelled to join an already registered religious organisation. Both The Resolute Pentecostal Christians and The Apostolic Faith tried to establish their independent churches, but the SOC denied their requests. There was no clear explanation given, which raises questions about the criteria used by the Czechoslovak authorities. Possibly, Czechoslovak officials followed the Soviet example, where Pentecostals were forced to merge with Baptist communities;Footnote 48 however, there is no evidence of it in preserved sources from either the state or the Pentecostals.
The Communist Party of Czechoslovakia did not adopt a general stance towards Pentecostalism. Concurrently with the two groups, a small Pentecostal community, that I mentioned at the beginning of the article, continued to operate in northwestern Bohemia without the pressure to seek legalisation.Footnote 49 In essence, some of the policies in the early 1950s were chaotic and decentralised. The religious landscape was not solely shaped by international decisions or by the decrees from the capital. It was intricately intertwined with the unique local contexts, a point that will be further illustrated through the distinctions observed among the Czech Resolute Christians and Slovak Apostolic Faith.
The origins of the Pentecostal movement in the Czech lands lie within the Evangelical Church of the Augsburg Confession in Cieszyn Silesia in the early twentieth century. Some members, dissatisfied with the spiritual direction and facing lingering religious conflicts often resulting in exclusion, established the independent Association of Resolute Pentecostal Christians as early as 1910.Footnote 50 Although dissolved in 1939, the Association continued its activities in secret, resurfacing officially after the war with approximately 1,000 members, who were primarily Poles with Czechoslovak citizenship.Footnote 51
Soon after the communist takeover, the Association unsuccessfully attempted to establish a standalone church. However, their leaders, adamant about not dissolving the group, negotiated a semi-autonomous position within the Unity of Czech Brethren (Jednota Českobratrská), a traditional Czech Protestant, reformed, evangelical organisation that was officially registered as a church in 1948. Beyond the relative similarities in spirituality, the congregationalism of the Unity seemed to offer sufficient independence in organisational and faith-based matters, as well as the corresponding status of their leaders.Footnote 52 The agreement was sanctioned by the State Office for Church Affairs with only one objection. In the interest of the proclaimed religious freedom, the final decision on church affiliation was to be made by the individual. As a result, Pentecostal believers joined the Unity individually, not as a whole group.Footnote 53
Although the Pentecostal believers and the Unity of Czech Brethren initially enjoyed amicable relations, their coexistence was marked by challenges that ultimately escalated into overt conflict by the late 1950s. The underlying spiritual and organisational disparities prompted multiple efforts by the Pentecostal leaders to seek alternative arrangements, including considering emigration to neighbouring Poland. However, any satisfactory resolution was prevented by recurring state intervention and internal conflicts.Footnote 54
The historical path of the Pentecostal movement in Slovakia distinctly deviates from its trajectory in the Czech lands. In the early twentieth century, various independent communities emerged that were shaped by the Pentecostal teachings from the United State, Scandinavia and Austria.Footnote 55 However, a pivotal turning point for the movement unfolded only in the aftermath of the Second World War. The arrival of repatriates, primarily from Hungary and Romania, played a transformative role and served as a profound spiritual catalyst.Footnote 56
Pentecostal adherents in Slovakia initially refrained from pursuing state registration, only reluctantly undertaking this process after the communist takeover. Similar to believers in the Czech lands, they faced unsuccessful attempts at legalisation; however, the state refrained from coercing them into joining another church or intervening significantly. This hesitation can be attributed to the repatriates being assured of religious freedom, which is not to say that they did not experience occasional harassment from local authorities.Footnote 57
In 1956, the believers of the Apostolic Faith made another attempt to legalize their organisation, taking advantage of a more favourable stance from the State Office for Church Affairs. Despite their efforts, officials determined that establishing a new organisation for approximately 800 believers was redundant. Their rationale rested on the false assertion that the proposed church was identical to the recently legalised New Apostolic Church (Novoapoštolská církev).Footnote 58
The teachings of the New Apostolic Church were, however, not influenced by Pentecostalism. It reached Bohemia through missionaries working among the German population already in the last third of the nineteenth century. The community was spiritually administered first from Dresden (1905–21) and later from Leipzig (1921–45) and legally functioned as a private association. After the Second World War, due to the expulsion of the Czechoslovak Germans, the church was not restored and its property was confiscated.Footnote 59 Surprisingly, even with small numbers, the remaining believers managed to legally re-establish the organisation in a single town, Nejdek, near Karlovy Vary in western Bohemia, in 1956. Slovak Pentecostals from The Apostolic Faith officially joined the church soon after.
The New Apostolic Church did not share any significant historical or theological connections with the Apostolic Faith in Slovakia, as it distinctively differed from the Pentecostal orientation. In 1956, a SOC official in charge in Prague most likely had no idea of their spiritual differences and assumed similarity solely based on the adjective ‘Apostolic’.Footnote 60 This situation led to Slovak Pentecostals gaining official membership status, albeit without significant engagement with their designated leadership. The believers proposed their own preachers and had them approved by the education and culture departments of the respective regional national committees.Footnote 61 Local church secretaries in Slovakia perceived the group as an offshoot of the Czech New Apostolic Church, which underscores a broader issue of religious illiteracy among state officials. While certain well-informed local officials were aware of the distinctive spiritual nature of the Apostolic Faith, they did not consider it a significant cause for concern.Footnote 62 In other words, religious policies were commonly used as tools of political expediency rather than as expressions of a coherent ideological stance.
The extent of interactions between the old members of the Slovak Pentecostal Apostolic Faith and their official leadership from the New Apostolic Church is highlighted by the fact that in 1965 when asked about the situation in Slovakia, Gustav Müller, the head preacher of the New Apostolic Church, stated that they had no members in the region. A year later, upon personally visiting the Pentecostal community, he discerned that they represented a distinct sect with unique spiritual beliefs. As a result, he concluded that further efforts to deepen any contacts between the groups would be futile.Footnote 63 This development culminated in the official registration of the Apostolic Faith in 1977, operating under the name The Apostolic Church (Apoštolská cirkev). Notably, it stood as the sole newly legalised church organisation in Czechoslovakia between the years 1957 and 1988, which underscores not only the perseverance of the community but also the state's highly selective recognition practices.Footnote 64
Pentecostalism in Czechoslovakia was often met with incomprehension and suspicion, despite its affiliation with legally recognised churches. On the one hand, the prevailing official perception characterised the adherents as fervent believers marked by intense religious zeal. Setting them apart from other Christians, they allegedly engaged in ecstatic states where they expressed remorse for their earthly lives and fear of divine punishment. This fervour gave rise to concerns about the movement's potential for religious extremism.Footnote 65 On the other hand, the positive aspect in the eyes of the authorities was that Pentecostals remained free from the influence of Western centres, unlike the Jehovah's Witnesses.Footnote 66
The unique aspect of the situation lies in the fact that the ‘suspicious’ traits attributed to Pentecostalism were limited to Czech believers and not extended to their Slovak counterparts, owing to the conflict with the Unity of Czech Brethren in the late 1950s. Remarkably, until that point, both state police and the SOC remained largely indifferent to their practices. The believers’ decision to officially align themselves with a legal church while maintaining autonomy proved to be quite successful, considering the repressive nature of the system. This was particularly evident among Slovak believers, where geographical distance from the New Apostolic Church averted serious disputes that necessitated state intervention – a scenario that unfolded in the Czech case.Footnote 67 The Pentecostalism of the Slovak believers, which was not a secret in any way, usually escaped the authorities altogether even in the following decades. The only information in this regard stemmed from the interviews with the head preacher of the New Apostolic Church, Gustav Müller. In the 1977 official handbook for administrative personnel in religious matters, the Apostolic Church was still confused with the New Apostolic Church, and there was no mention of its Pentecostal doctrine.Footnote 68 In 1981, the director of the Secretariat for Church Affairs in Bratislava still considered it an autonomous Slovak branch of the New Apostolic Church, even when it was already independent.Footnote 69 In 1985, in the official state publication Církve a náboženské společnosti v ČSSR (Churches and Religious Societies in Czechoslovakia), the Apostolic Church did not appear at all, except for the mention that the New Apostolic Church and the Apostolic Church were not identical.Footnote 70 And that did not change even in the third revised and supplemented edition from 1989.Footnote 71
There was no deliberate state strategy regarding the Pentecostal minority in Czechoslovakia. Policymakers in the country were not specifically influenced by the Soviet example and lacked substantial knowledge about Pentecostalism in the Soviet Union, other Eastern bloc countries and even within Czechoslovakia itself. In the early 1950s, the Communist Party of Czechoslovakia faced challenges in producing experts well-versed in religious matters beyond traditional churches altogether.Footnote 72 Consequently, very similar Christian communities were treated heterogeneously and in a decentralised manner. The absence of clear and consistent policies allowed Pentecostal believers to operate within a ‘grey’ area of the religious field – they lacked official recognition yet were not strictly prohibited. In sum, this analysis suggests that the Czechoslovak state's handling of Pentecostalism, marked by a lack of specialised knowledge and a reactive rather than proactive stance, was emblematic of broader governance challenges faced by communist regimes in managing religious diversity.
About Us without Us: Seventh-day Adventist Church
During the early communist period, the Seventh-day Adventist Church emerged as a unique case among the religious groups analysed in this article. It was the only organisation to achieve official recognition. However, the trajectory leading to this legal standing was notably intricate.
Post-Second World War, the Seventh-day Adventist Church grappled with a decline in numbers, primarily attributable to the expulsion of Czechoslovak Germans. Despite these challenges, by the year 1947 the church had reorganised itself and engaged in intense missionary activities, resulting in a membership surge that surpassed 3,000 individuals.Footnote 73 After the communist takeover, it successfully navigated the bureaucratic landscape, securing official registration as a recognised institution. By the 1950s, the organisation found itself under the leadership of newly appointed, ostensibly more ‘reliable’ personnel, who publicly espoused their unwavering dedication to creating a more peaceful and socially just world.Footnote 74 The set course abruptly faltered in 1952, when the entire church faced an unforeseen prohibition.
The official justification for the dissolution of the Adventist organisation centred on their steadfast commitment to refraining from work on Saturdays and abstaining from military service involving firearms. Further nuances emerged in historical research, including instances of personal animosity from a bureaucrat within the state church secretariat and the Adventists being singled out as the initial subjects of a more stringent church policy.Footnote 75
Despite the adversities, the Seventh-day Adventists proved to be a resilient community, continuing to practise their faith underground.Footnote 76 Even in the face of the imprisonment of their leaders and the nationalisation of church property, believers ceaselessly strived for re-legalisation and did not even shy away from the cooperation with the StB to achieve this goal.Footnote 77 Unlike Jehovah's Witnesses, the Seventh-day Adventists Church found their illegal status incompatible with its beliefs as it necessitated opposition to state authority. Unexpectedly, their persistence yielded results, leading to their successful reestablishment in 1956. However, this newfound legality did not come without its challenges. The church, while able to operate with a degree of freedom, was denied the return of its seized properties, their leaders were forced to cooperate with the StB and were forced to agitate in favour of the state's demands. Not all members agreed with the new direction and the cumulative impact of mentioned events plunged the church into a profound internal crisis.Footnote 78
The relegalisation of the church happened within the context of a unique moment in the history of Czechoslovak religious policies. While it is plausible that the stout efforts of the believers played a role, they were not the sole decisive factor in this development. To understand the reasons behind the church's official reestablishment, I believe it is crucial to closely examine the issue from the point of view of the state apparatus. First and foremost, the state administration had limited knowledge about the Seventh-day Adventist Church. The recently established State Office for Church Affairs lacked experts on religious minorities, resulting in a scarcity of high-quality information. Aside from a handful of publications originating from church members themselves, there was little to go on, as the interest of the wider society in this faith remained marginal.
Authorities were aware of some aspects of the Seventh-day Adventist faith, such as a strong emphasis on the second coming of Jesus Christ and a focus on health. Additionally, their active involvement in social and missionary initiatives was publicly known, although these endeavours were not universally well-received due to their zeal.Footnote 79 Even during the interwar period, the group faced notable criticism from unexpected quarters, as both the Roman Catholic Church and the anticlerical Free Thought movement expressed their disapproval with an unusual consensus.Footnote 80 In esteemed reference works like Masarykův slovník naučný, a dictionary named after the first Czechoslovak president, the Seventh-day Adventists were unfavourably portrayed: ‘Their lack of a sense of reality and scientific thought not only consigned their efforts to cultural insignificance but also condemned them to religious barrenness.’Footnote 81
The most emphasised characteristic of the Adventist faith, both historically and in the present, revolves around the observance of Saturday as a day dedicated to rest and spiritual reflection.Footnote 82 Notably, the practice was well-known to officials of the SOC, as Adventists refrained from work and schooling on Saturdays, even when it was a regular workday, until 1968. However, following the church's legalisation in 1950, this aspect did not present a significant problem. Members were able to adjust their work schedules, and their dedication to a healthy lifestyle and work efficiency often garnered praise.Footnote 83 Moreover, addressing concerns about education, the Ministry of Education issued an ordinance in 1947, granting parents the right to request Saturdays off for their children, thus resolving any potential issues in this regard.Footnote 84
By 1950, the Seventh-day Adventists were still regarded as just another small religious denomination that did not pose any major problems for the communist regime. Surprisingly, less than a year later, a notable shift occurred, even in the absence of any significant transgressions among the believers. Their leadership was abruptly replaced, the ordinance permitting children's absence on Saturdays was revoked and adults were compelled to defer their worship services to the afternoon. Ultimately, the governmental intervention escalated in 1952, culminating in the complete prohibition of the church, which the newly elected leadership headed by František Šumbera did not expect at all.Footnote 85
According to historian Jiří Piškula, the prohibition of the church can be attributed to the efforts of a single man, Vladimír Ekart, a Party member and an employee of the SOC.Footnote 86 He meticulously prepared the necessary documents for the Central Committee of the Czechoslovak Communist Party and devised a comprehensive strategy for regional SOC officials.Footnote 87 Although it remains uncertain whether Ekart acted alone in enforcing the ban, his influence was undeniable. Within the Prague office, there was no one willing or able to challenge his authority, even though some of the local officials were more than sceptical: ‘Although no one has asked our opinion, we would like to draw your attention to the difficulties that will arise when these fanatical worshippers resort to uncontrolled sectarianism.’Footnote 88
The ban of the Seventh-day Adventist Church was sanctioned in 1952. Remarkably, within a mere two years, the same institution that proposed the dissolution – the State Office for Church Affairs – underwent a significant shift in approach, expressing the intent to legalise the organisation once again. The original official reasons for the dismissal, as Saturday's absenteeism of workers and children, all of a sudden did not seem to matter anymore.Footnote 89
The shift in policy can be attributed to several factors. Firstly, Ekart lost his influence, and due to unrelated reasons, was forced to leave the Office. Secondly, and perhaps more significantly, the SOC was able to acquire a certain level of expertise based on first-hand experiences dealing with the Adventists. The staff realised that forcing the believers to attend work on Saturday is almost impossible because observance is not just a distinctive characteristic but also one of the basic defining elements of their faith.Footnote 90
The issue of children's attendance was different. The SOC recognised that according to Adventist doctrine, children were not official members of the church and, therefore, their presence in school was easier to enforce. In due course, the Office rescinded even this demand, contending that the absence of a small number of pupils on Saturdays did not present a significant problem. Nevertheless, the Central Committee of the Czechoslovak Communist Party maintained its position, insisting that church leaders, at the very least, pledge to the state their commitment to persuading their members to ensure their children's attendance in school.Footnote 91
The variable and at times indecisive stance of the state administration stemmed from a limited understanding of the issue. The State Office of Church Affairs underwent a gradual evolution in its approach, aligning with better identification of the specifics associated with the religious organisation in question. Time was required for the SOC personnel to gather the necessary information, enabling them to make more reflective decisions. Their strategy was not predetermined but emerged from the local events. External influences were limited, as illustrated by the fact that the main argument for relegalisation among Czechoslovak Seventh-day Adventists was based on the legal existence of the same church in the Soviet Union – a reality completely unknown to the government. Consequently, the Prime Minister's Office had to investigate the veracity of this claim, which underscores the restricted information flow and limited international interaction in religion-related matters.Footnote 92
Instrumental to relegalisation was the leadership change within the SOC. Jaroslav Havelka, the newly appointed head, considered certain bans as strategic mistakes and claimed that some of the religious groups were not worth spending resources on their suppression and constant monitoring.Footnote 93 His office classified illegal religious communities as ‘sects’ – groups characteriaed by their intense spiritual practices and resilience against state pressure. Nevertheless, not all of them were perceived uniformly and were categorised into three distinct classes: (A) those no longer present in Czechoslovakia (e.g. Mormons or Salvation Army), (B) those who were enemies of the state and a threat to socialism (e.g. Jehovah's Witnesses) and (C) those who were positive or at least indifferent to the objectives of socialism (Seventh-day Adventist Church, Christian Brethren, New Apostolic Church).
Havelka tried to convince the Central Committee of the Communist Party to reevaluate the legal religious landscape. He suggested that groups not hostile to the regime (class C) should be legalised for pragmatic reasons, as their illegal status posed unnecessary challenges to state control.Footnote 94 However, the process of legalising religious organisations proved to be considerably more difficult than their prohibition. While the Central Committee did not fundamentally object to the new strategy proposed by the SOC, it also sought input from the Ministry of the Interior. After a brief consideration, the Ministry categorically opposed the idea.Footnote 95 The disagreement led to a clash of strategies between the two government bodies concerning the Adventist issue.
The Ministry of the Interior tasked the State Security Service with obtaining compromising evidence related to Seventh-day Adventist activities. Nevertheless, their investigation did not discover any explicitly anti-state behaviours. Instead, the believers were just gathering, presumably for prayers.Footnote 96 These findings did not satisfy Interior Minister Rudolf Barák, prompting his direct and personal involvement in the matter:
This report does not contain information about the anti-state activities of the Adventists and cannot be a sufficient reason on its own to reject the proposal of the SOC to authorise the Adventist sect. […] Please submit to me […] such a report on the Adventists, which could be presented to the political secretariat and which would also contain a proposal for solving the Adventist question in our country.Footnote 97
The State Security officer in charge promptly responded to the Minister's directive, providing a new set of findings just three days later. In his revised report the Adventists were accused of engaging in illegal activities and portrayed as a serious threat. The document is detailed with specific anti-state statements made by a few individuals from which broad conclusions were drawn, shaping the narrative presented to the Central Committee: ‘The mass of Adventists refuses to work on the Sabbath, is educated to hostility to our people's democratic system, slanders the government and its representatives, is a prejudiced enemy of the Communist Party, and is an obstacle to building socialism.’Footnote 98
The strategic manipulation of narratives to fit particular agendas becomes even more apparent when examining the ‘working class’ argument, employed by both the SOC and the Ministry of Interior. According to the contemporary available information, a significant number of Adventists had a working-class background and working-class jobs. The Ministry of the Interior utilised this fact as evidence of an intricate scheme orchestrated by the Seventh-day Adventist Church to influence the proletariat, which could ultimately damage the national economy.Footnote 99 In contrast, the SOC saw this as an argument for the relegalisation of the church, because by making it illegal, the state ran the risk of creating a significant number of working-class opponents.Footnote 100 From the perspective of the SOC, the background of the believers was generally viewed in a positive light. Their tireless work ethic was praised and their religious devotion was seen as a natural response to the need for solace during the hardships of the capitalist period.Footnote 101
I suggest that the aforementioned example illustrates two key points. First, during the early 1950s, the notion of belief in God was not enough to condemn anybody in Czechoslovakia.Footnote 102 Even the highest members of the state apparatus operated both in public and non-public communication with a certain idea of religious freedom rooted in the 1948 Constitution. Argumentation grounded solely on a negative stance towards religiosity was not seen as sufficient, a fact that might appear paradoxical given the widespread religious repression. However, the Communist Party of Czechoslovakia did not publicly denounce faith often during the early communist period. This phenomenon can be largely attributed to the fact that many communists maintained church affiliations, particularly the Roman Catholics.Footnote 103 An aggressive public campaign against religion was not a priority. The priority was building socialism, as Lenin himself put it, ‘For us, it is more important the unity of struggle for a paradise on Earth, than what the proletariat thinks about the paradise in heaven.’Footnote 104
Second, the state apparatus in Czechoslovakia was not always highly efficient. The church policy was not unified even within the highest echelons of the political leadership and a coherent plan that would solidify the vague atheisation goals was never firmly established. In the case of Adventists, this was further compounded by serious tension between the two competing governing bodies. According to the so-called Church Laws, enacted in 1949, all religious activities were to be supervised by the State Office for Church Affairs. Nevertheless, the Ministry of the Interior emerged as a de facto competing entity promoting a contradictory strategy.
Resolving the controversy, the SOC successfully advocated for a legalisation strategy in 1956. This effort culminated in the official registration of the Seventh-day Adventist Church, along with the Christian Brethren and the New Apostolic Church. Somewhat paradoxically, this marked one of the final acts of the SOC, as it was dissolved later in the same year. It was deemed no longer necessary to maintain a separate governing body for overseeing churches, and the entire agenda was consequently transferred to the Ministry of Education and Culture.
In existing scholarship, the wider legalisation strategy of the SOC is explained by two contradictory hypotheses. First, Jiří Piškula argues that after the death of Stalin in 1953, the SOC embarked on a more liberal course toward the churches, seen as ‘a precursor of the Prague Spring’.Footnote 105 In contrast, Ondřej Matějka proposes a more utilitarian explanation. The religious situation around 1954 was pacified and the believers did not represent any danger to the regime. Nevertheless, the SOC needed to demonstrate a level of activity that could be acceptably presented to the Communist Party leadership. The moment the religious question was resolved, and faith became completely marginal, the Office would lose its raison d’être.Footnote 106
While acknowledging Piškula's depiction of the changes, in my opinion, wider legalisation does not inherently signify liberalisation. Alternatively, it could have been a genuine effort to bring the churches under greater control, as argued by Havelka, the director of the SOC at the time. Conversely, I find Matějka's explanation to be excessively radical. The question of religion was not settled in 1954 and no one disputed the fact that there must be some sort of supervisory body. Nevertheless, it is possible that the leaders of the SOC were truly concerned about losing political influence, as not even two years later the whole office was dissolved.
Within the aforementioned context, I will propose a third explanation. The transformation of the SOC's approach stemmed from power competition with the Ministry of the Interior. Authorised churches were primarily intended to fall under the control of the SOC (and especially its successor body at the Ministry of Culture and Education), while unauthorised organisations were to be under the jurisdiction of the Ministry of the Interior.Footnote 107 This gave the State Office for Church Affairs an incentive to legalise as many groups as possible because it sought to consolidate and possibly expand its sphere of influence.
In sum, from the perspective of secular power, Seventh-day Adventism did not represent any immediate threat to socialist goals, and there was no consensus on how to deal with it in the Eastern bloc. However, in Czechoslovakia, the Church, despite its willingness to make serious concessions, faced serious upheaval in the early 1950s, as it became entangled in a conflict between the SOC and the Ministry of Interior. Consequently, believers found themselves unwillingly caught in a power struggle that had little to do with their faith and practices.
Conclusion
In a similar manner to other Eastern bloc countries, the onset of communist dictatorship in Czechoslovakia signified serious transformations in the religious field. The strict regulation of religion did not lead to an atheistic society but instead resulted in a dynamic and unpredictable environment. Rather than focusing on confessional lines, this article examines church-state relations through the lens of the religious underground, and it concretely highlights three different modalities of these relations, each characterised by its intricate nature.
Firstly, regarding Jehovah's Witnesses, neither the organisation nor the state exhibited any inclination toward seeking compromise, compelling the believers to practise their faith strictly illegally in the religious underground. Secondly, the Pentecostals aspired to establish an autonomous church, but they had to settle for ‘hiding’ within already registered organisations. Lastly, despite many hardships, the Seventh-day Adventists succeeded in achieving legalisation; however, this came at the cost of modifying certain practices and enduring strict state oversight.
The influence of the Soviet Union on the concrete shaping of Czechoslovak church policy ought not to be overestimated. Notably, even the Soviet Bolsheviks struggled to establish a unified anti-religious strategy themselves and their approach was changing over time.Footnote 108 While the Czechoslovak leadership unquestionably drew inspiration from the Soviet Union, its effect was mostly discernible in general administrative measures. While similarities existed between the situations of Jehovah's Witnesses, Pentecostals and Seventh-day Adventists in both countries, I contend that many of these parallels emerged naturally. They were a product of the socialist system's inherent characteristics and the attitudes held by the mentioned religious communities, rather than direct influence from the Soviet Union.
The early phase of state socialism in Czechoslovakia was characterised by pronounced inconsistency in matters of religious policy. The specific situation of the believers was influenced by multiple factors, including differences in faith, their organisation's relationship to secular authority, power struggles within the Czechoslovak Communist Party, and the varying levels of commitment among local state officials to advancing anti-church objectives. The absence of a unified practical (and theoretical) strategy fostered a distinctive environment, characterised by decentralised procedures and a degree of flexibility. During the early communist era, the position of individual churches was not predetermined, and the nature of their interaction with the state administration had yet to be firmly established. Religious organisations, therefore, were subject to diverse treatments, including both abolition and legalisation.
From the dynamic environment of the early 1950s, a relatively stable religious policy took shape. Representatives of the state successfully devised instruments, structures and a control apparatus, elements of which remained functional in the subsequent decades. The dissolution of the State Office for Church Affairs in 1956 marked the conclusion of the period characterised by ‘experimentation’ with diverse modalities of state-church relations. In the subsequent three decades, except for the Apostolic Church, no religious group in Czechoslovakia was either legalised or prohibited.
Competing interests
The author declares none.
