Whoever Smokes Tobacco is Worse than Dogs
By Gleb Chistyakov
“Кто курит табак, тот хуже собак”
“Whoever smokes tobacco, is worse than dogs”
The fight against tobacco smoking and its devastating health consequences, which has unfolded in recent decades in the USA, Europe, and more recently in Russia, actually has much deeper roots in our country. Impartial evidence from historical sources indicates that, at least until the second half of the 17th century, tobacco was strictly prohibited in Russia. After the church schism, the Old Believers became the vanguard in the battle against tobacco smoking.
Tobacco Before the Church Schism
Tobacco was first brought to Russia during the reign of Ivan IV, as some historians note, in 1553. The initial batches of tobacco were imported by foreigners not so much for distribution but for personal use. However, word of the new “herb” soon spread in society and among state officials. Tobacco gradually began to infiltrate Russian society, gaining particular popularity among Russian sailors who could purchase it during visits to foreign ports. At the insistence of Patriarch Filaret, civil authorities issued a decree in 1634 banning all sale and use of tobacco.
Under Tsar Michael Fyodorovich, the spread of tobacco met active resistance from both the state and the church, which considered “tobacco” a devilish herb, a “God-abhorrent demonic plant,” the antithesis of church incense, invented by Satan to lure as many sinners’ souls as possible to hell. Smoking was seen as a means of communing with evil spirits and was considered a sin. Decrees included strict warnings:
“Those streltsy [musketeers], vagrants, and all sorts of people caught with tobacco twice or thrice shall be interrogated, whipped on the rack or in the marketplaces; and for repeated offenses, such people shall have their nostrils and noses slit.”
In the main document, essentially the country’s constitution in the mid-17th century—the Sobornoye Ulozheniye (Code of 1649)—it was stated:
“In the cities, a strict ban on tobacco has been established under penalty of death, so that no Russian or foreigner may keep or consume tobacco, nor trade in it. And those Russians or foreigners who keep or trade in tobacco… shall face severe punishment without mercy, under penalty of death, their households and possessions sold, and the proceeds taken into the state treasury” (Sobornoye Ulozheniye, Chapter 25).
Archdeacon Paul of Aleppo, from the Antiochian Patriarchate, left the following account during his travels in Russia: “The Muscovites, seeing the vile actions of [guilty foreigners], whom they had previously fully trusted, began sending them into exile to that land of darkness, especially putting to death those who smoked tobacco… When the Metropolitan of Myra arrived here, for his many vile actions and those of his servants and companions—it was discovered that his archimandrite, as well as his alleged relatives and deacon, smoked tobacco—they were all immediately sent into exile…”
Peter the Great’s Tobacco Amusements
Until the end of the 17th century, tobacco was banned several more times, with orders to “strictly ensure that townspeople do not play cards, chew the vile tobacco herb, stuff it in their nostrils, or smoke it.” However, in 1697, all bans were lifted. Having visited England, Peter I became an avid smoker himself and began promoting tobacco use in Russia as an attribute of Europeanized lifestyle, alongside beard-shaving and “German” clothing.
It is sometimes said that Peter brought tobacco and the passion for smoking to Russia after his European trip. In reality, this is not true. The future emperor, who spent the best days of his youth in the German Quarter (now Lefortovo), built in 1652 to house foreigners, likely began smoking long before his trip to Holland. It is known that his first friends were avid smokers—Scottish general Patrick Gordon and Swiss-born Franz Lefort. By this time, the young tsar was already a passionate smoker, as evidenced by his decree in February 1697 allowing the sale of tobacco:
“Sell it openly in the rooms at taverns.”
The famous diplomatic mission, known as the “Great Embassy,” began a few months later, with the tsar arriving in Europe after the legalization of tobacco. His obsession with all things foreign blinded him, and during his initial meetings with European politicians and businessmen, Peter promised to grant all privileges for promoting tobacco smoking and the tobacco trade in Russia. A curious report by the secretary of the British Embassy in The Hague to London survives:
“The King met incognito with the Muscovite tsar in Utrecht. The immediate benefit we seek to gain from this is his permission to import tobacco into his domains.”
The tobacco trade held a special place in the economy of the British Empire at the time. Britain exported vast quantities of tobacco from its colonies in Virginia and Maryland. The vast, untapped expanses of their eastern neighbors enticed English merchants. They cared little whether they poisoned an entire kingdom with tobacco, as in Muscovy, or provoked an opium war, as in China, as long as they secured financial profit. This is why London’s tobacco magnates eagerly awaited Peter and did everything to ensure he remembered his stay in foggy Albion. Peter’s visit to London culminated not only in receiving numerous gifts but also in signing a fundamental agreement for the supply of English tobacco to Russia. By the end of February, the key terms of the contract were settled: the English were granted a tobacco monopoly in Russia for a term of two to seven years and agreed to pay four kopecks per pound of tobacco imported. By September 1699, one and a half million pounds of tobacco had been legally imported into Russia.
From this moment, one can speak of the large-scale tobacco addiction of Russia. Tsar Peter not only set an example by smoking but demanded that his entourage, as well as all state dignitaries and military personnel, smoke pipes, Dutch “rolls” (cigars), or at least sniff tobacco from snuffboxes. A few years later, in 1705, realizing the profitability of the tobacco trade (as Russia’s population was becoming tobacco-dependent), Peter established state-controlled tobacco sales. In 1716, two tobacco factories were opened—one in St. Petersburg and another in Akhtyrka, in Little Russia (modern Ukraine).
Some authors suggest that Peter I’s attachment to tobacco was driven not only by personal enjoyment and commercial profit from tobacco addiction but also by a certain mystical significance of smoking. During the so-called “Most Drunken and Most Jesting Synods,” convened by the emperor over 30 years and parodying church councils, tobacco was one of the “sacred” substances used in their rituals and ceremonies. In particular, tobacco and sulfur replaced incense during offerings to idols of ancient gods. The “censers” themselves were designed in the form of washbasins or toilet pots.
Tobacco was used during the “consecration” ceremony of the new palace of Peter I’s close associate, Franz Lefort, which took place on January 21, 1699. This ritual was a mockery of the Orthodox rite of consecrating a building (referred to as a “khrámina” in the Slavic tradition, author’s note). Instead of sprinkling the building with holy water and burning incense, participants carried bowls of wine, mead, beer, and vodka, and used tobacco for censing. The ceremony was led by a mock patriarch, “Prince-Pope” Nikita Zotov, who bore the title “Most Jesting and Most Holy Patriarch Kir-Yebi of Presburg, Zayauzsky, from Great Mytishchi to the Ends of the Earth.” Instead of a cross, the head of the procession, the “Prince-Pope,” carried two crossed smoking pipes. Franz Lefort’s palace was “consecrated” in honor of the pagan god of drunkenness, Bacchus.
It appears that such a blasphemous “consecration” was a deliberate undertaking by Peter I. After Lefort’s death, which followed shortly after the debaucherous ceremonial, the building was used as a royal entertainment venue. It hosted events aimed at experimentally introducing cultural phenomena alien to the old Muscovite way of life and Orthodox tradition. In this palace, Peter I personally shortened Russian dresses and shaved beards. The central hall frequently hosted assemblies—entertaining balls. To admonish those who “preferred the old times to the present,” performances parodying ancient church and national customs were held in the palace, including the wedding of the jester Feofilakt Shansky.
Cigarettes: From Soldiers’ Barracks to Monastic Cells
In the 18th and 19th centuries, tobacco smoking continued its triumphant spread across the country. The invention of cigarettes caused particular harm to public health. Now, smoking was possible anytime and anywhere. Interestingly, the government approved their production in the mid-1840s, during the years of intense persecution of the Old Believers under Nicholas I’s regime. By 1860, cigarettes were being produced at 551 enterprises in Russia, and by the early 20th century, cigarettes had become an integral part of a soldier’s ration.
Tobacco smoking quickly spread across all strata of Imperial Russia. By the mid-19th century, tobacco use had become a completely ordinary, commonplace, and widespread phenomenon among the clergy and monastics of the dominant faith. Modern researchers of the Russian Orthodox Church even emphasize that active tobacco smoking was an important distinguishing characteristic of Orthodox clergy. The well-known publicist Archdeacon Andrei Kuraev writes on this topic:
“Who didn’t smell of tobacco back then? There were no atheists in the country. But religious people were divided into Orthodox and non-Orthodox. It was precisely the sectarians—Old Believers and Stundists (Baptists)—who did not smoke. Accordingly, the smell of tobacco in 19th-century Russia was the smell of a person belonging to the Orthodox faith” (A. Kuraev, Answers to the Young, Answer 87).
To justify this habit, modern authors often cite examples of smoking by various historical figures and clergy who have since been canonized. Among the well-known avid smokers are Emperor Nicholas II, Archbishop Nicholas of Japan (Kasatkin), Bishop Seraphim (Chichagov), Elder Macarius of Optina (Mikhail Nikolaevich Ivanov), and others, all now venerated as saints. The renowned church writer Bishop Theophan the Recluse (Govorov) said about tobacco smoking:
“To smoke or not to smoke is a matter of indifference, at least our common conscience considers it so” (St. Theophan the Recluse, Collected Letters, Vol. 2, p. 240).
Tobacco use was not only widespread among the clergy but was actively encouraged in their circles. For example, in the 19th century, professors at the Moscow Theological Academy were officially allocated a special sum of money for purchasing tobacco, in addition to other expenses (housing, books). At the Moscow Theological Academy, not only the faculty but also the students smoked. The book The Great in the Small describes an episode involving Metropolitan Filaret (Drozdov) of the Moscow Synodal Church. It recounts how a high-ranking official (evidently a non-smoker) visited the student dormitories, noted the heavy tobacco smoke, and asked the Moscow Metropolitan to address the issue. Metropolitan Filaret (Drozdov), a decisive man and advocate of strict measures, could do nothing in this case except issue a written appeal to the students. In it, he urged them to consider the harmful aspects of this habit. Historian A. Lebedev writes that both the faculty and students reacted coolly to the metropolitan’s appeal:
“The Academy was evidently displeased with the remarks and, for some time, did not respond to the metropolitan. This concerned him, and he began inquiring through a letter to Archimandrite Anthony [the Academy’s rector] about how his appeal had been received… The metropolitan tried to convey to the Academy that his letter on tobacco smoking should not be seen as an administrative order but as an invitation to discuss the matter… ‘There is no directive… it was written as a reflection… I did not intend prohibition or oversight, but… for the students to be presented with reflections that would prompt them to draw their own conclusions'” (A. Lebedev, The Great in the Small, Metropolitan Filaret of Moscow, Moscow, 1999, pp. 34–35).
Old Believers at the Forefront of the Fight Against Smoking
The attitude toward smoking in the Old Believer, or Old Orthodox, community was entirely different. Smoking was considered not only a grave sin but also an utterly impious custom. The negative stance toward tobacco among Old Believers stemmed from several reasons:
- First, Old Believers were well aware of how tobacco was regarded in pre-schism Russia.
- Second, the forced introduction of smoking by Peter I placed it alongside other anti-national and anti-church phenomena of the new era.
- Third, the addiction to tobacco, tobacco dependency, and the diseases it caused were perceived by Old Believers as a sign of base passion, impiety, blasphemy, and sacrilege.
Old Believer folklore from the 17th to 19th centuries mercilessly criticized, mocked, and condemned smokers. In several tales, tobacco smoking was explicitly called a satanic act, an invention of the devil. In response to the Nikonite proverb, “He who smokes tobacco is Christ’s little peasant,” Old Believers countered with a series of sayings and proverbs: “He who sniffs tobacco is worse than dogs,” “To smoke is to burn incense to demons,” “He who smokes tobacco drives away the Holy Spirit,” “Tobacco and the tavern are old neighbors,” “Tobacco, bathhouse, tavern, and women—that’s all you need!” and “He who loves the tobacco herb destroys himself.” Among the Nekrasov Cossacks, who fled religious persecution and serfdom to Turkish lands, a saying circulated: “He who smokes tobacco is a brother to the tsar-dog,” clearly alluding to Peter I.
Criticism of tobacco held a special place in Old Believer apocrypha. Some of these apocrypha were related to certain foods considered impure for various reasons, including potatoes, sugar, tea, certain types of fish like catfish and eel, hare, and horse meat. Alongside these food-related apocrypha, there were several legends dedicated to tobacco:
“There lived a depraved, licentious woman. One day, drunk and intoxicated, she fell asleep on the road. Dogs gathered around her and engaged in shameful acts with her. On the very spot where this disgraceful act took place, a beautiful flower with a pleasant fragrance grew. Some began collecting these flowers for their scent. At first, people didn’t know what to do with them. Some tried eating them, but the flowers were poisonous, and people began to die. This continued until someone thought to dry the leaves and roll them for smoking. From then on, this vice spread, and to this day, people cannot break free from this evil.”
In addition to this folk tale, a widely circulated text, The Tale from the Book Called Pandok…, linked the origin of tobacco to a plant that grew on the grave of a notorious harlot. The story provides details about this woman, stating she was born to a nun named Jezebel who had fallen into debauchery. At the age of twelve, the girl was possessed by a devil who “inflamed her with lust,” and she indulged in vice for thirty years. Ultimately, the Almighty sent an angel, commanding the earth to part, and she descended alive into the underworld. Tobacco grew on her grave, later discovered by a certain physician named Tremikur, who facilitated its spread.
From the perspective of Christian theology and modern historiography, these apocrypha were mere legends. However, they played a crucial role in the fight against smoking and the spread of tobacco. Contemporary publicist Lev Igoshev compares the vivid imagery used in these apocrypha to modern therapeutic practices, where those suffering from chemical addictions are subtly instilled with aversion to the harmful substance.
The debates between Old Believers and adherents of the Russian Orthodox Church regarding tobacco and smoking were so widespread that they found their way into literature. Russian writer Pavel Melnikov (Pechersky) included a dispute between Old Believer pilgrims and Russian Orthodox lumberjacks in his famous novel In the Forests and on the Hills. The novel’s protagonist, Old Believer merchant Potap Maksimych Chapurin, reproachfully asks the lumberjacks not to “defile themselves” with tobacco smoke. The lumberjacks, however, unabashedly boast of their addiction to smoking:
“Almost all of us stick to the merry herb,” Uncle Onufriy replied, smiling, as he began filling his pipe. “For us, your honor, tobacco is a must. In the summer, when you go into the forest, there’s so much vermin—horseflies, gnats, mosquitoes, and all sorts of critters—only tobacco smoke keeps them at bay… If you, merchant gentlemen, ever visit the upper Vetluga region near Upper Resurrection, you’ll see real tobacco fiends there, not like us. In the town and surrounding villages, they even sleep with their pipes. A little boy, barely visible above the ground, is already puffing on his daddy’s pipe… At gatherings, weddings, or christenings, during church holidays, people first bring out homebrew and mead… then they put pots of tobacco on the table for guests—one with ground tobacco, another with chopped… They’ll smoke up the house so much it stings their own eyes… Those are the real, true-blue tobacco fiends, while we just dabble a bit” (P.A. Melnikov (Andrei Pechersky), In the Forests, Book One).
In response, the Old Believer community produced anti-tobacco lubki (propaganda prints) and even poetic works. One such poem gained prominence in the mid-19th century. Its anonymous author argued that tobacco smoking was not merely a bad habit but a powerful addiction, akin to what we would now call a narcotic dependency. The poem describes this phenomenon as demonic and satanic, a perspective still relevant for believers today. Thus, the poem stands not only as a historical artifact but also as a still-relevant attempt by its author to address pressing contemporary issues.
In an allegorical form, the author describes the powerful narcotic addiction to tobacco:
“If all the seas’ waters turned to ink,
The expanse of the sky became paper,
And the stars transformed into quills,
And all the angels became scribes,
Writing books for instruction—
Even then, they could not teach smokers to feel aversion,
Could not wean them from tobacco,
Nor turn them toward salvation.
Even if a fiery underworld ocean
Threatened to engulf the nations of tobacco lands,
And the gaping jaws of hell loomed to swallow all—
Even that could not frighten smokers.”
The issue of tobacco smoking was also raised at Old Believer councils. For instance, the pre-conciliar meeting of the Pomorian Old Believers in 1909 adopted the following resolution regarding tobacco:
“Is it permissible to associate with those who openly smoke, and how should they be received into fellowship? The opinion of the Assembly: Tobacco smoking is an unnatural sin. Do not associate with those who openly smoke.”
The 1916 Holy Council of the Old Believers who accept the Belokrinitskaya hierarchy issued an appeal that stated, in part:
“Those who intoxicate themselves in unnatural ways, such as smoking the God-abhorrent tobacco, which, according to medical evidence, causes great harm to health and is detrimental to the soul, are subject to even greater penance. Abandon this vile habit, and those who do not smoke should admonish those who do.”
In their pastoral work, Old Believer clergy directly pointed out the harm of tobacco to health and the danger of premature death from smoking. For example, Bishop Arseny of the Urals (Shvetsov), in a letter to priest Stefan Labzin, wrote about the death of a parishioner: “Regarding the death of Georgy Shvetsov, I will say that such a death is horrific. I believe it may have been a punishment, poisoning from tobacco. I forbade him from using it, but he did not heed my prohibition.”
In 1915, several public organizations and newspapers launched a campaign to collect funds to purchase tobacco for the active army. This initiative was supported by many representatives of the Synodal Church. For instance, the Exarch of Georgia, later Metropolitan of Petrograd and Ladoga, Pitirim (Oknov), wrote: “The only pleasure for our army is tobacco. I wanted to condemn sending tobacco to the army, but now I cannot, as I have personally seen what joy tobacco brings to soldiers, uplifting their weary nerves” (Zealots Without Reason: On the Collection of Tobacco for Soldiers, The Bell, 1915, No. 2623, February 3, p. 4). In February 1915, a prayer service dedicated to collecting tobacco for the army was held at the Cathedral of Christ the Savior, and at its conclusion, Bishop Modest of Vereya (Nikitin) urged the faithful to intensify efforts to collect funds for tobacco purchases.
The Old Believer community reacted sharply to these appeals. Bishop Innokenty of Nizhny Novgorod (Usov) immediately issued an appeal titled “What Are You Doing?” in which he harshly criticized the tobacco campaign. He wrote:
“I am talking about the fact that many are collecting poisonous, soul-damaging, and health-harming substances. For soldiers, for example, tobacco. And they do so very successfully and generously, as if tobacco were as essential as cartridges, gunpowder, and other equipment. Signs in cities read, ‘Collecting for tobacco,’ ‘for makhorka,’ and so on. Entire organizations, private individuals, men, women, adults, and children donate to this filth. In some schools, teachers encouraged boys to donate for tobacco and girls to sew tobacco pouches. Even clergy (of course, not Old Believer) participated in supplying the army with this soul-damaging herb. Many magazines and newspapers, both conservative and liberal, opened subscriptions and collections for tobacco, and their contributors advertised and praised this abomination so zealously that one might think they had sold out to tobacco companies…
In reality, tobacco is as necessary for a soldier as a fifth leg is to a dog, which would only hinder its running, or as a fifth wheel on a cart. Even worse. As everywhere, but especially in military service, tobacco brings nothing but harm and ruin. Scientists, doctors, hygienists, and moralists have established and proven that smoking tobacco, like the use of other narcotic substances, reduces the body’s resistance to harm, predisposes to consumption and other chest diseases (meaning lung diseases—ed. note), adversely affects the nerves, heart, and other vital organs, dulls consciousness, weakens memory and reasoning, and paralyzes a person’s entire mental activity. In simpler terms, tobacco makes a person dumber and more prone to illness.”
In his appeal, Bishop Innokenty spoke not only of tobacco’s harm to health but also of its detrimental effect on discipline and the danger of smoking cigarettes on the front lines. Concluding his message, he noted: “And who knows, perhaps tobacco could cause a soldier’s death. The enemy might spot the glow of his cigarette and shoot him. As he dies, the soldier will curse you as the cause of his death. And that curse will be just. Think about what you are doing.”
Bishop Innokenty also authored other articles on smoking. Notably, Old Believer authors at the time relied on fairly comprehensive medical data about the harms of smoking, debunking the myth that scientific evidence of tobacco’s dangers emerged only in Nazi Germany. Bishop Innokenty wrote in one of his works:
“Tobacco smoke poisons the nerves, lungs, stomach, but primarily the heart. In medicine, tobacco is considered predominantly a cardiac poison (affecting the cardiovascular system—ed. note). Smoking pollutes the blood, and the lungs fill with phlegm. This phlegm cannot be cleared from the smoker’s lungs because tobacco smoke damages the ciliated epithelium of the lungs and heart. The smoke causes these epithelia to cease functioning, as if they die off, leading to the lungs becoming clogged with phlegm, never clearing: the person feels heaviness in the chest and coughs. If one abstains from smoking for a long time, the ciliated epithelia revive. Over time, lung function improves.”
Bishop Innokenty also wrote extensively about the social dangers of smoking, which were dismissed by the establishment at the time: “I won’t even mention how many fires and associated disasters are caused by smoking, because I know a smoker won’t be convinced by this: for him, everything can perish, but he will still smoke and smoke. If he doesn’t spare his own health and life for the sake of his enslaving passion, there’s no need to mention his neighbors! It’s not for nothing that there’s a well-known anecdote that a smoker refused to go to heaven because there’s no tobacco there, but agreed to go to hell because it’s supposedly available there. That’s how strong this unnatural passion is, even in popular imagination.”
Since the introduction of tobacco smoking in Russia, Old Believers have actively opposed this vice, pointing out both its spiritual and physical harm. Now, as the anti-tobacco campaign has swept the world, we must not forget the significant historical role of Old Believerism in combating this destructive social phenomenon.