By Professor Mikhail Nikolaevich Skaballanovich

The simplest and, by all indications, the most ancient written formula for the baptismal symbol is apparently that given in the monument “The Testamentum of Our Lord Jesus Christ,” discovered in a Syriac manuscript by the Catholic Patriarch Rhamani of Antioch and published by him in 1899.[175] This monument by Rhamani dates to the second century, while others to a later period, even to the fifth century; in our opinion, it bears traces of an origin no later than the end of the third century. The great antiquity of the symbol in this monument is also indicated by the fact that it is presented in a question-and-answer form, a form known to St. Cyprian and which disappeared in the East in the fourth century (in the West, it persisted until the sixth century). The symbol was pronounced by the person being baptized already standing in the water, and is divided into three parts, after each of which follows one immersion. Placing his hand on the person being baptized, the one baptizing asks: “Do you believe in God the Father Almighty?” The person being baptized answers: “I believe.” And immediately he immerses him for the first time. Then the priest says: “Do you also believe in Christ Jesus the Son of God, who came from the Father, who was with the Father from the beginning, who was born of the Virgin Mary through the Holy Spirit, who was crucified under Pontius Pilate, who died, who rose again on the third day alive from the dead, who entered into heaven, who sits at the right hand of the Father, and who is coming to judge the living and the dead?” And when he answers: “I believe,” he baptizes (immerses) him a second time. Then he says: “Do you also believe in the Holy Spirit, in the holy church?” and the person being baptized says: “I believe,” and baptize him a third time. After the laying on of hands (instead of anointing with oil (chrism) with the invocation of the Holy Spirit on the person being baptized and after receiving the Eucharist, the newly baptized, the monument prescribes, are taught the dogma of the resurrection of the bodies: for before receiving baptism, let no one know the word resurrection; for this is a new decree, having a new name, which no one knows, except the one who has received it (i.e., the Eucharist).” As we see, the Syrian symbol is completely alien to the Christological controversies of the 4th century, does not even include the concept of “only begotten”; its Christology is apparently directed only against Svionism (“who came from the Father,” “who was with God from the beginning”) and Docetism (“who died”). The closest in simplicity of the surviving symbols to this is the ancient Roman Symbol.

The ancient Roman Creed in its entirety was first transmitted by Marcellus of Ancyra (348) in a letter to Pope Julius and by Rufinus (c. 400) in his Commentary, in Symb. apostol. Since Greek was the ecclesiastical language in Rome at that time, Marcellus’s text, preserved by Epiphanius, is usually considered the older. However, this is apparently countered by the fact that this text has been proven to have undergone some, albeit insignificant, changes, and, furthermore, the Latin text has a rhythmic meter. It is divided into 12 parts, all of which are almost the same meter:

1) Credo in Deum, Patrem omnipotentem (Marcellus does not have πατερα)

2) et in Christum Jesum, filium ejus unicum,

3) qui natus est de Spiritu Sancto et Maria virgine,

4) qui sub Pontio Pilato crucifixus est et sepultus,

5) tertia die resurrexit a mortuis (in M.και),

6) ascendit ad caelos (Μ † και καθηυςνο)

7) inde venturus est iudicare vivos et mortuos,

8) ol in Spiritum Sanctum,

9) sanctam ecclesiam (the meter requires eccles. sanct),

10) remissionem peccatorum,

11) carnis resurrectionem (Μ † ζωηκ αιωνιν).

The Roman Creed differs from the Syriac Creed in the formulas of the relationship of the Son of God to the Father: there (in the Syriac Creed) “the Son of God who came from the Father, who from the beginning is with the Father,” here (in the Roman Creed) “and in Christ Jesus, His only Son (unicum)”; 2) in the formulas of the earthly birth of Christ: there: “from the Virgin Mary through the Holy Spirit,” here – “from the Holy Spirit and the Virgin Mary”; instead of “died” – “died and buried”; 3) the articles are added: “for the remission of sins” and “resurrection of the flesh.” In comparison with the Syriac Creed, the Roman Creed is thus shorter and simpler in places, and more complex in places: the relationship of the Son to the Father is defined in it by the shorter, but also more technical term unicus; The earthly birth of the Son of God in relation to the Holy Spirit and the Virgin Mary does not differ in different prepositions, but the Holy Spirit is placed earlier177. But the main difference is that the teaching about the resurrection is included in the Latin symbol. The essential difference between the Greek and Latin texts of the Roman Symbol is that the Greek does not include “Father” at the beginning of the symbol and adds “eternal life” at the end. All other discrepancies are explained purely lexically. Thus, there is no Latin word for παντοκρα᾿ τωρ–α, which is why it had to be translated as omnipotentem: but that it constitutes a rendering of the Greek concept παντκρατωρ is evident from Rufinus’s explanation of it: omnium teneat potestatem. Similarly, unicus is a rendering of the concept μονογενης, because anigenitus, a theological neologism of the 4th century, meaning “born and suffered” in the Communion, had to be expressed in Latin as qui with perfectum.

Harnack, challenging The apostolic origin of the Roman Creed indicates the following features of its post-apostolic origin. The word “Father,” although corresponding to the Gospel titles of God as the Father, is understood in patristic literature, with the exception of interpretations of the Lord’s Prayer, more in the sense of “Father of the world,” “Creator,” “Sovereign,” in this sense; it is also understood in the Creed. As for the name “Son of God,” “Lord,” and the concept of “begotten,” in the New Testament, according to Harnack, these designations refer only to the historical Christ, whereas in the Creed these words denote the metaphysical relationship of the Son to the Father. Furthermore, according to Harnack, apostolic and ancient writings did not contain such a gradation of Christ’s redemptive actions as in the Creed; just as there were no distinctions there to the same degree as in the Creed between the resurrection, ascension, and sitting at the right hand of the Father. For these reasons, the second one certainly cannot be accepted, as it is generated by Harnack’s incorrect views on the dogmatic development of Christianity. Zahn179 considers the “Father” (in the first article) and “only begotten” to be non-primordial in the symbol. The first is because Irenaeus and Tertullian quote: unus Dens omnipotens, and the connection παντοκρα᾿ τωρ (omnipotοns) is more natural with (-) εο᾿ ς, than with πατε᾿ ρα. These considerations are disputed by Harnack180 as follows: 1) those quotations are arbitrary; and it is said of Christ there: “in one Christ”; 2) the absence of “Father” is incomprehensible given the origin of the formula from the commandment on baptism. “Only Begotten” is also disputed by Zahn on the grounds of its absence from Irenaeus, Tertullian, and Justin. “Only Begotten” is not found in the supposed quotation from the Creed in the Syriac Didascalia.

From the text of these first Creeds, it is already clear that Parts 1 and 3 of the Creed (concerning the Father and the Holy Spirit) arose later. This is also evident in their style: Part 2 contains a detailed comparison of historical facts, while Parts 1 and 2 merely designate the hypostases with a brief indication of their actions. This can be clearly imagined if Parts 1 and 3 are arranged according to the plan of Part 2, or vice versa. Parts 1 and 3 should have discussed creation (in more detail) and God’s revelation, the historical activity of the Spirit; Part 2 would have stated that Christ is the Redeemer, the head of the Church. The replacement of the one-member symbol with a three-member one (meaning by member each of its three parts, dedicated to the three persons of the Holy Trinity), had a great, hardly comparable to anything else, significance for the history of dogmas: it imposed a strong trinitarian coloring on the entire understanding of the Christian faith.

Other additions to the symbol followed naturally. The Holy Spirit is followed by the Holy Church. This juxtaposition is intentional: the Church must be designated as what the Holy Spirit makes it and what it was destined for from the beginning. According to the Apostle Paul, “by one Spirit we have all been baptized into one body”182; the pagan Church is called an offering sanctified by the Holy Spirit.183 At Hermas, we see a remarkable juxtaposition of the Holy Spirit and the Church. The baptized person immediately learns that God is active as a holy power and that the Holy Church exists. But the essence of baptism consists in the forgiveness of sins. According to the Didascalia, “in baptism the sins of those who approach from the Gentiles and enter the holy Church of God”184 are forgiven. Finally, the conclusion of the symbol should most naturally have an eschatological content, closely connected with the preceding thoughts. Instead of “flesh” (resurrection of the flesh), “body” would be more accurate (according to Apostle Paul, “He gave life to your dead bodies,” “awaiting adoption as sons, the redemption of our bodies”)185; therefore, perhaps, the Eastern symbols use “nekroḥ”186.

No matter how simple and ancient the Roman symbol is, one cannot see an archetype in it187, as Harnack and others have shown. This is because all Eastern symbols have many, and, moreover, common differences in comparison with it.

Several ancient Eastern symbols have survived to this day. These are: 1) the Jerusalem (called “Apostolic Faith”), preserved in the inscriptions of the catechetical teachings (6-18) (produced c. 330) of Cyril of Jerusalem. 2) Caesarean (called “Church Faith”), presented by Eusebius of Caesarea to the Council of Nicaea and transmitted in his letter to his flock about the Council of Nicaea (this letter has come down to us in the appendix to the letter of Athanasius the Great about the redefinition of the Council of Nicaea, as well as in the church histories of Socrates188, blessed Theodoret189 and in the history of the Council of Nicaea by Gelasius of Cyzicus190. 3) Antiochian (called “Universal Faith”), preserved in Latin in the work of John Cassian: “On the Incarnation of Christ” against Nestorius191. 4) Alexandrian (called “Apostolic Dogmas”), preserved in the encyclical letter of St. Alexander, Archbishop of Alexandria, against Arius, cited in the church history of Blessed Theodoret.192 5) The Cypriot (called “Apostolic Faith”) is preserved by St. Epiphanius in his work “Anchor”193. It is possible that all the ancient symbols were taken into account when compiling the Nicene Creed. But it is also possible that all these symbols were supplemented after the compilation of the Nicene Creed with its expressions. Thus, some of them contain expressions of “consubstantial” (Antioch., Cypriot), “that is, from the essence of the Father” (Cypriot), “uncreated” (Cypriot, Antioch.), “and begotten” twice (Cypriot) about the Son, which could only have been introduced from the Nicene Creed. The Creed of the Church of Cyprus, cited by St. Epiphanius, is especially close to the Nicene Creed, which even caused concern among Professor Lebedev’s hypothesis is that this symbol was later interpolated by a copyist in the works of Epiphanius. All of these symbols are generally longer than the Roman. This might indicate their later origin, if almost all of their additional expressions did not exist in the fragments of the ancient symbol found in the New Testament, among apostolic leaders, and among writers of the second and third centuries, even in the West. This latter point may particularly suggest that the Roman symbol, like the closely related Syriac, was an abbreviation of older versions (just as the Nicene Creed was somewhat abbreviated in its Christological section at the Council of Constantinople, as we will see below).

The most important differences between the Eastern and Western symbols are the following: the Eastern ones have ἕνα (the one) before Θεο᾿ ν (God), sometimes, later, before “the Lord Jesus Christ”, and even “the Holy Spirit”; 2) they speak of the creative activity of God; 3) before Jesus Christ there is almost always “the Lord”, 4) after “the only begotten Son” there is a more expressive designation of the divinity of Christ; 5) after “the coming” there is “in glory”; 6) to “the Holy Spirit” some addition is added: “life-giving”, “who spoke through the prophets”, “dwelling in the saints”; already in Justin: “the prophetic Spirit”; 7) The Church is always designated as καθολική; 8) “eternal life” is added to the resurrection; 9) smaller differences: “Jesus Christ” and not “Christ Jesus”, etc.

In comparison with our current Creed, every word of which (with the exception perhaps of “for us” at “crucified”) is found in the ancient Creeds, the ancient Creeds, including the Roman and Syriac, have the following redundant expressions and variant readings: “we believe” instead of “I believe” (if the Creed had a question-and-answer formula, then the second (“I believe”) is older); about God the Father after “one”: “and one only” (Antioch.); after “Creator” – “of absolutely everything visible and invisible” (Caesar.); About Christ – “Christ Jesus” (Syrian, Roman), after “Lord” – “our” (Roman Antiquity), “the Word of God” (Caesar) “who came from the Father, who from the beginning exists with the Father” (Syrian); after “begotten” – “before all creation” 194. The report of St. Athanasius is well known about how and why the fathers of the council decided to introduce this word into the symbol of faith, despite the fact that it is not in Scripture 195. The name Logos was avoided, since it could be understood in the Philonic sense – just like the name “firstborn of all creation” (in view of Arianism). The symbol composed in this way is transmitted to us by the aforementioned Eusebius in his letter to his flock (to the Caesareans) 196. It had the following form: “We believe in one God, the Father Almighty, Maker of all things visible and invisible, and in one Lord Jesus Christ, the Son of God, begotten of the Father, the only-begotten, that is, from the essence of the Father, God from God, Light from Light, true God from true God, begotten, not made, consubstantial with the Father, through whom all things were made, as in heaven, so on earth. Who for us men and for our salvation descended and became incarnate, became man, suffered and rose again on the third day, ascended into heaven and is coming to judge the living and the dead. And in the Holy Spirit.” Then followed an anathema on the Arians. This creed was confirmed by the first canon of the Council of Constantinople: “the faith of the 318 fathers assembled at Nicaea shall not be annulled, but shall remain dominant.” However, this council is credited with a creed that differs significantly from the Nicene Creed. The contradiction of this tradition with the first canon of the Council of Constantinople, as well as other circumstances, have given rise to doubts about the attribution of the creed now known as the Nicene-Constantinople Creed to this council. The fact is that the Council of Constantinople of 381 was long held back from being recognized as ecumenical and was finally declared so by the Council of Chalcedon. Therefore, in the most ancient codes of conciliar creeds, its canons are either omitted or merged with those of the Council of Chalcedon, which was the first to cite the creed now known as the Nicene-Constantinople Creed. Historians Socrates, Sozomen, and Blessed Theodoret, in their accounts of the second council, speak only of its confirmation of the Nicene Creed, not of its additions. Gregory the Theologian, who attended the Council of Constantinople, mentions only the Nicene Creed in his letter to Cledonius, although he acknowledges the inadequacy of its teaching on the Holy Spirit. The Eastern Fathers, in their letter of 382, ​​cite only the Nicene Creed as sufficient for baptism. At the Council of Ephesus in 431, the Nicene Creed was read in its first session and included in the acts, as was the case at the Robber Council of 449. Thus, the Nicene-Constantinople Creed only becomes known from 450—with the Council of Chalcedon. All these circumstances, in connection with the fact that St. Epiphanius of Cyprus, in his Ancoratus (Anchor) against heresies (373), cites an ancient Creed very close to the Constantinople Creed, which prompted Caspari197, and after him Hort, Harnack, and others, to deny that the Creed was composed at the Council of Constantinople. In the opinion of these scholars, external arguments are joined by internal signs of inauthenticity: the omission of the words “that is, from the essence of the Father,” which was incredible during the period of the Arian controversies, the addition of “before all ages” (the Nicene Fathers were afraid to introduce any temporal element into the mutual relations of the Father and the Son), restraint in the teaching about the Holy Spirit – He is not called consubstantial and God, etc. The source of this Creed, according to these scholars, is in the aforementioned Creed cited by St. Epiphanius as “the faith handed down to us from the holy apostles and in the church of the holy city from all the holy bishops together, over 310 in number.” By “holy city,” they think, is meant Jerusalem: this symbol must be a reworking of the local Jerusalem and Cypriot symbol in the Nicene spirit, made, perhaps, by Cyril of Jerusalem. This symbol, is believed that it was read at the Council of Constantinople by Cyril, whose Orthodoxy was suspected there and included in its acts in the same way as the confession of Eusebius of Caesarea was included in the acts of the Council of Nicaea. Kuntze198 suggests that this symbol was first pronounced as a baptismal symbol at the Second Council by Nectarius of Constantinople, who was taught it by Diodorus of Tarsus (Cilicia is close to Cyprus). Kunze suggests this based on what Bishop Kalinicus of Apamea (Bithinia) said about the Second Ecumenical Council at the Council of Chalcedon: “a council of 150 fathers for the ordination of the most God-fearing Bishop Nectarios” (Mansi VII, 36). All of these are, of course, hypotheses. Professor A. Lebedev and Spassky199 refute them by finding at least vague hints of the composition of the Creed at the Council of Constantinople in documents from 381 to 450. Thus, the Council of Constantinople itself, in a letter to Emperor Theodosius, listing its activities, speaks of its “brief definitions” (συ᾿ ντομοι οροι) and immediately afterwards of the confirmation of the Nicene Creed. They further point out that the Nicene Creed was not truly a baptismal symbol, as it did not contain the necessary clauses concerning the church, baptism, or the resurrection of the dead. In some documents, it is even called not a symbol, but a “teaching” (μα᾿ θημα). Therefore, after it, various churches used their own local symbols, only edited in the Nicene spirit. The Constantinople Creed was such a revision of the symbol, only the most successful and therefore the one that received universal recognition. Comparing it with the Nicene Creed, it is easy to explain how all the differences between it and the latter arose. Thus, “the Creator” was simply moved before “the visible and invisible” due to stylistic requirements, and the latter was supplemented at the beginning by “heaven and earth,” transferred from the section on the Son of God, since the attribution of the creation of heaven and earth to one Son in the Nicene Creed was reminiscent of the old idea of ​​the Logos, as one who supplemented and accomplished the creative work of the one God. Thanks to this edition, the entire section on God the Father presents Him in the order of increasing creativity. In the section on the Son of God, a number of additions have been made against Marcellus (“before all ages” and “whose kingdom will have no end” and Apolinarius (“from the Holy Spirit and the Virgin Mary”, “crucified for us under Pontius Pilate”, “buried”). The expression “from the essence of the Father” has been eliminated, in the form of those reinterpretations that the concept of essence caused after the Council of Nicaea. Thus, at the Council of Ancyra in 358, they said that Paul of Samosata, with the help of this concept, expressed his teaching on the identity of the Son of God, as an impersonal manifestation of God’s power, with the essence of God the Father; otherwise, in the opinion of Paul of Samosata, it would be necessary to assume some kind of primordial essence next to the essences of the Father and the Son, proceeding from it, as two coins are made from the same substance of copper200. Like the first member, the section on the Son of B. was stylistically smoothed out; definitions The Son of God are arranged in the order of their increasing importance, preceded everywhere by an article emphasizing their exceptional significance, and they are all connected by the conjunction “and,” και’, with the exception of “crucified,” where the conjunction τε, however; to “descended” is added “from heaven”; “sitting at the right hand of the Father” and (coming again) “with glory,” “whose kingdom will have no end” – are added as a final contrast to the derogatory expressions. As for the article on the Holy Spirit, it is composed in a conciliatory spirit (the Holy Spirit is not directly called God and consubstantial, although this follows from all the expressions about him, especially the penultimate one) in view of the great disagreement on this subject at that time. Thus, according to the words of Gregory the Theologian, “some venerated the Spirit by action (ενε᾿ ργεια), Some considered him a creature, others God, and others did not dare to say either of them out of respect, as they said, for Scripture, which allegedly had not expressed anything clearly about this, and therefore they neither honor nor deprive the Spirit of honor, remaining in some sort of middle ground, or rather, in a very pitiable position, with regard to Him.” Even among those who recognized him as God, “some are pious only in their hearts, while others dare to piety with their lips.” “Until now, nothing has caused the entire universe to tremble so much as the boldness with which we proclaim the Spirit as God. This, as is well known, has also earned me the disfavor of my friends.”201.

The Western Church, like the Eastern, also had to make many additions to its most ancient creed, and its current creed, despite the fact that it bears the name of the Apostles’ Creed, contains traces of additions to the most ancient text preserved by Rufinus and Marcellus. About God the Father is added “Creator of heaven and earth.” The expressions about Christ must be influenced by the Nicene Confession: “conceived” (by the Holy Spirit, born of the Virgin Mary), “suffered,” “died” (the latter, according to Rufinus, is equivalent to “buried”), “descended to those in hell,” to “sitting at the right hand of the Father” is added before this last word “God,” and after it “almighty”; before the articles about the Holy Spirit and the Church is added “I believe”; to the Church – “universal” and “communion of saints” (this last expression entered the symbol through the interpretative explanation of the article about the church). In the same form, this symbol is also placed in Protestant symbolic books, with minor differences, however: instead of inferos – inferna – to the underworld, there is no credo before ecclesiam.

Before adopting this form, the Roman Church’s creed underwent many changes. Additions to the ancient text began in the 4th century. Rufinus notes a number of additions in the Aquileian Church of that century, although fewer than today. These additions also occurred in other Western churches; they were sometimes strengthened, sometimes subtracted, and sometimes, in some churches, the creed even assumed its ancient form (for example, in the 9th-century Aquileian Church). Thus, various Western churches had different versions of the creed before the 9th century; but it was only the Council of Trent that put an end to all changes to the creed. Not only did different churches have different creeds, but even within the same church, even in Rome itself, several formulas of the creed existed simultaneously, all of which were used simultaneously at baptism. Specifically, in the Roman sacramentaries of the 5th-7th centuries, alongside the Roman creed, our current creed is used, in Greek. Thus, in the Sacramentary attributed to Pope Gelasius 202.

The history of the Creed has demonstrated the importance and, at the same time, the difficulty of, on the one hand, isolating truths (dogmas in the proper sense) from the system of Christian doctrine, concerning which there should be no two opinions, and, on the other hand, finding expression for these truths that does not allow for different, even opposing, ways of understanding them.

The Creed did not save the Church from heresies, but it did reduce their number and soften their form: such extreme and numerous heresies as Gnosticism and anti-Trinitarianism became less possible. In the matter of preserving dogma, the tradition of the Creed thus acquired a great aid and a new, reliable means. But this means was dangerous in that it could reduce dogma to a verbal formula, whereas it is, first and foremost, an idea requiring profound comprehension. Therefore, its preservation could not be mechanical and deathly rigid. It had to be accompanied by a deepening understanding of it and its vital assimilation. And this was possible only through vigorous work on it. Thus, the preservation of dogma in the church naturally evoked reflection on it, in which it revealed itself to one consciousness and one era from a different perspective than to others. In addition to the unchanging dogma, immutably preserved in the church, a dogmatics or theology of different eras and schools of thought had to develop. The first and most honorable place in this elaboration of dogma was occupied by the theology of the apostles themselves.

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Notes

175 Rhamani Testamentum Domini nostri lesu Christi, Moguntiae 1899; II, 8.

176 Epiphanius. Archpriest. 72, 8.

177 Yet the similarity is so great that an interpolation is possible.

178 Huynuk A. Das apostolische Glaubenbekenntniss, Berl. 1892, S» 19 f.

179Zahn. Th. Das apostolische Symbolum. Erl. u. Loipz 1893 S. 23 – 45.

180Zeitschr. f. Theol u. Kirche IV. 130.

181 Seeberq, Lehrb. d. Dogmeng. 179.

1821 Cor. 12:13.

183Rom.15, 16.

184Didasс. With. 21.

185Rom.8, 11, 23.

186Sceberg, 181.

187С Kattenbusch’em, Das ar. Symbol. 2 V. Leipz. 1894, 1900.

188Socrates, Church History VIII, 22.

189Theodoret, Church History 1, 4.

190Gelasius Cyzicus, Church History C, 34, 35.

191Cassian, On the Incarnation of Christ VI, 3.

192Theodoret, Church History 1, 4.

193Epiphanius, Ancoratus, p. 120

194ant. kes), “by whom the worlds were framed” (ant), lie “by whom all things were made” – “as in heaven, so on earth” (Cyprus); instead of “incarnate” – “born” (Roman ant.), “of the Virgin Mary through the Holy Spirit,” (Sir), “the Mother of God (Mary)” (Alex.), “and lived among men” (Kes.), “died” (Alex. Syriac); with “resurrected” – “from the dead” (Her. Alex. rpm.), “alive” (Sir.); with “heaven” – “to the Father” (Kes.); with “at the right hand” instead of “Father” – “Majesty” (Al.); with “coming” – “from there” (Roman); with “Spirit” – “in one” (Her. Kes., Al.), “Comforter” (Her.); “remission of sins” without “baptism” (Rom.); instead of “I hope” – “moreover we acknowledge* (al,); with “resurrection” – “flesh” (Rom.); with “life” – “eternal” (Jer. Roman).

Although there is no positive evidence to this effect, judging by the fact that representatives from all churches participated in the ecumenical councils, one might assume that each of the ancient local creeds was taken into account during the composition of first the Nicene and then the Constantinople Creed. To appreciate the nature and difficulty of this work, one must bear in mind that a creed must not contain a single word that is spoken without purpose, and that teaching is expressed not so much by individual words as by their juxtaposition, selection, and sometimes even by the mere absence of a certain word.

Eusebius of Caesarea proposed a baptismal creed for his church to the fathers of the Council of Nicaea, but he selected only those articles that pertained to the question being examined by the council, supplementing and developing them with his own additions (e.g., “We believe that each of Them, the Father and the Son, has its own being; the Father is truly the Father and the Son is truly the Son”). But in view of the commonality of expressions in this symbol, Emperor Constantine proposed adding the word ομοοδσιος2 to the symbol.

195 Athanasius the Great, Epistle on the Nicolaemus Council

196 Socrates, Church History I, 8.

197 Caspari, Quelle zur Gescliichte des Taufsymtiols. Christiania 1866-1869, 1875, I-III Bb.

198 Kunze, Marcus Eremita, Leipz. 1895. The Nicalia – Constantinopolitan Symbol, Leipz. 1898.

199 Lebedev, A. Ecumenical Councils of the IV and V Centuries. Works, Vol. III, Serg. pos. 1890, pp. 1–32, III–145. Spassky, History of Dogmas and Movements in the Epoch of the Universal. Soc., Vol. I. Trinitarian Question. Serg. pos. 1906, pp. 588–628.

200 Afanasy V. On the Sovereign. Arimathea. 27.

201 Gregory B. Letter 251. Spassky, Hist. of Dogmas and Movements, 628. See also other citations here.

2024–92), the Nicene-Constantinopolitan Creed is cited, written in Greek in Latin letters on one line and translated into Latin on the other, with the inscription: “the Gospel Creed, inspired by the Lord, established by the Apostles, inspired by the Holy Spirit in the teachers of the Church.” This Creed is taught to those preparing for baptism, and they must learn it by heart. The ancient Roman Creed was recited at the baptismal ceremony itself, in the form of the baptized person’s responses to the priest’s questions. It can therefore be assumed that by the 5th-7th centuries, the Roman Church possessed two creeds: while imparting the Nicene Creed to those being baptized in accordance with Canon 7 of the Council of Ephesus to protect them from Arianism, it also preserved its own ancient creed. The latter, almost in its Marcellus-Rufinus edition, is found in the sacramentary attributed to St. Gregory the Dialogist (590-604) and the one discovered by Usher in the 17th century. The Psalter which belonged to King Athelstan (946) (must have been written in the 1840s; 3rd century), where this symbol is written in Greek with Anglo-Saxon letters (must have been brought to England by Latin missionaries under Gregory the Dialogist), As for the current version of the Roman symbol, it is first found in the Gallic Sacramentary, according to archaeological evidence, of the 7th century, found by the Benedictine Mabillon (1840s; 3rd century), from where he published its text in his “Italian Library” (1724): in this sacramentary, the text of the Roman symbol is given in 3 different versions: one for the catechism, another at baptism in the form of questions, the 3rd at the end of the sacramentary; the last is quite close to the ancient form, and the first two are close to the current one. In the Sacramentary of the Monastery of Gellones, published by Martin, the Creed is almost identical to the current one (only “inferna” instead of “inferos” and a few grammatical errors). In the work of Abbot Priminius (who must have died in 758), “Code of Various Canonical Books,” published by Mabillon, the text of the Roman Creed is read as in the Cologne Catholic Catechism of 1547 (published by the Viennese Bishop Blandinus Campianus), with a difference from the current one: regarding the Son of God, “Dei,” not “Ejus,” “inferna,” without “I believe” before “church.” The Council of Trent gave the current edition of the Roman Apostolic Creed.

The very tradition of Rufinus regarding the apostolic origin of the Roman Creed is no longer included in Roman Catholic catechisms. Meanwhile, it lived and was fervently defended throughout the ancient and medieval Christian West. It was accepted by Blessed Jerome, Popes Celestine I, Sixtus III, and Leo I. In the work De temporibus sermonis, attributed to Blessed Augustine, all the members of the Creed are already distributed among the 12 apostles, beginning with Peter and ending with Matthew. Bernard of Clairvaux provides a mnemonic hexameter for this story. On the 12 columns of a 15th-century church in Trier, the member of the Creed assigned to each apostle is inscribed beneath the image of each apostle. This story is also repeated in the aforementioned Cologne Catechism. It explains our customary division of the Creed into 12 members.

Source in Russian: Skaballanovich M. “The Preservation of Dogma in the Church” // Transactions of the Kyiv Theological Academy. 1910. No. 9. P. 17-78.

Il faudra sans doute du temps pour mesurer toute la portée de ce qui vient de se produire à Ceuta. On peut évidemment parler de crise migratoire, de frontière débordée, de rumeurs propagées sur les réseaux sociaux, de responsabilité des passeurs ou d’une décision judiciaire espagnole mal comprise et transformée en promesse d’entrée en Europe. Tout cela existe. Mais s’en tenir à ces explications serait passer à côté de l’essentiel. Fin juillet, plus de 72 000 personnes ont déferlé vers une enclave espagnole qui compte elle-même environ 80 000 habitants. La plupart sont depuis retournées au Maroc, mais plusieurs milliers demeurent encore à Ceuta. Le 16 août, certains manifestaient avec des pancartes disant qu’ils ne voulaient pas retourner au Maroc. Ce qui s’est passé au nord du Royaume ne peut plus être traité comme une banale péripétie migratoire. Une société devrait s’interroger lorsqu’un nombre aussi considérable de personnes saisit en quelques heures l’espoir, même illusoire et dangereux, de partir. Elle devrait s’interroger plus encore lorsque ceux qui partent ne sont pas exclusivement les plus pauvres, les sans-emploi ou les marginaux, mais aussi des salariés, des diplômés et des personnes qui avaient encore, au Maroc, une vie à abandonner.

C’est probablement là que réside la nouveauté la plus dérangeante de Ceuta. Le Maroc connaît depuis longtemps l’émigration économique. Des générations de Marocains sont parties chercher ailleurs un salaire qu’elles ne trouvaient pas chez elles. Mais les témoignages recueillis ces dernières semaines révèlent autre chose : ce n’est plus seulement l’absence absolue de ressources qui pousse au départ, c’est aussi l’absence de perspective. Reuters a rencontré à Ceuta des Marocains disposant de qualifications supérieures. Un spécialiste en automatisation âgé de 39 ans, originaire de Fès, expliquait qu’avec les niveaux de salaire auxquels il était confronté, il lui était impossible d’acheter un logement ou de fonder une famille. Il ne décrivait pas la famine ; il décrivait l’impossibilité de construire une vie. Cette différence est fondamentale. Lorsqu’un pays perd ses plus pauvres, il affronte un drame social. Lorsqu’il commence à perdre aussi ceux qui travaillent, ceux qui ont étudié et ceux qui pourraient théoriquement appartenir à sa classe moyenne, il affronte un problème autrement plus profond : la disparition progressive de la croyance qu’un avenir personnel est encore possible à l’intérieur du pays.

Il serait faux de prétendre que tous les Marocains veulent partir. Les réseaux sociaux ne sont ni un recensement ni un sondage, et l’accumulation de vidéos de colère peut produire une perception déformée de l’état réel de l’opinion. Mais il serait tout aussi faux de considérer comme insignifiants les milliers de témoignages, les images, les récits de départ et, désormais, cet événement physique sans précédent. Une rumeur peut expliquer le moment où une foule se met en mouvement ; elle ne peut pas expliquer à elle seule pourquoi cette foule existe. Elle peut annoncer que « la porte est ouverte » ; elle ne crée pas chez des dizaines de milliers de personnes le désir de la franchir. Ceuta n’a donc pas inventé le malaise marocain. Ceuta l’a rendu visible. Les réseaux sociaux n’ont pas créé le désespoir ; ils ont simplement offert à ce désespoir une vitesse de propagation et une capacité de mobilisation que le pouvoir ne peut plus ignorer.

Les données du marché du travail permettent d’ailleurs de comprendre une partie de cette exaspération. Selon le Haut-Commissariat au Plan, le chômage atteignait encore 13 % en 2025 et 37,2 % chez les 15-24 ans selon la méthodologie alors utilisée. L’Organisation internationale du travail et le HCP considèrent qu’environ un Marocain de 15 à 29 ans sur trois se trouve dans la catégorie des jeunes qui ne sont ni en emploi, ni en études, ni en formation. Depuis 2026, le HCP a profondément révisé sa méthodologie afin d’adopter les nouvelles normes internationales et souligne lui-même que les nouvelles données ne sont pas directement comparables aux séries précédentes. Mais le problème de fond demeure : la participation des jeunes de 15 à 24 ans au marché du travail est particulièrement faible et l’accès à un emploi suffisamment rémunérateur reste l’un des principaux points de fracture de la société marocaine. Ce ne sont pas des slogans d’opposants. Ce sont les propres statistiques du Royaume et celles d’institutions internationales.

Et pourtant, le Maroc n’est pas un pays qui ne produit rien. C’est précisément ce qui rend sa situation paradoxale. Les ports se développent, les autoroutes s’étendent, le train à grande vitesse est devenu une vitrine, l’industrie automobile et aéronautique progresse, les investissements internationaux affluent, les grands projets urbains se multiplient et la Coupe du monde 2030 promet d’accélérer encore cette transformation. Le pays que découvrent les investisseurs est en mouvement ; celui que vivent de nombreux citoyens leur paraît beaucoup plus immobile. Le véritable problème marocain n’est donc pas l’absence de développement. C’est la difficulté croissante à convaincre la population que ce développement est aussi le sien. La prospérité visible des infrastructures finit même par alimenter la frustration lorsqu’elle cohabite avec le chômage, les bas salaires, les difficultés d’accès au logement, les insuffisances de l’école et du système de santé et la conviction que l’ascenseur social fonctionne davantage pour certains que pour d’autres. Le Financial Times vient d’ailleurs de consacrer une analyse aux « jeunes oubliés » du Maroc, soulignant précisément le contraste entre les investissements impressionnants du Royaume et une création d’emplois qui ne permet pas à suffisamment de jeunes de bénéficier de cette transformation.

Il faut alors prononcer un mot qui revient constamment dans la société marocaine et que les discours officiels préfèrent souvent enfermer dans des stratégies, des commissions et des programmes : la corruption. Il ne s’agit pas d’affirmer, sans preuves, que tous les responsables sont corrompus ni de transformer une perception sociale en condamnation judiciaire. Il s’agit de constater que le problème est suffisamment profond pour apparaître dans pratiquement toutes les évaluations sérieuses de la gouvernance marocaine. Dans l’indice 2025 de Transparency International, le Maroc obtient 39 points sur 100 et se classe 91e sur 182 pays. Le score s’est certes amélioré de deux points en un an, ce qui doit être reconnu, mais il reste à un niveau qui indique de graves difficultés de perception de l’intégrité du secteur public. L’OCDE, dans son rapport 2026 consacré à l’intégrité et à la lutte anticorruption, décrit elle-même un écart révélateur : le Maroc satisfait à 73 % des critères portant sur la solidité de son cadre stratégique anticorruption, mais seulement à 53 % lorsqu’il s’agit de la pratique. Plus troublant encore, l’OCDE note que les rapports publics de suivi de la stratégie nationale anticorruption sont disponibles pour 2016-2018 et 2019-2022, mais plus après cette période, et que le dispositif ne fixe pas suffisamment d’indicateurs de résultats permettant de mesurer ce qu’il a réellement changé. En matière de lobbying, le Maroc ne remplit que 20 % des critères réglementaires examinés et aucun des critères de mise en pratique retenus par l’OCDE. Autrement dit, le problème marocain n’est pas l’absence de lois, de plans ou d’institutions. C’est l’écart entre ce qui existe sur le papier et ce que le citoyen perçoit dans sa vie.

Cet écart est politiquement destructeur parce qu’il alimente l’idée que les règles ne valent pas de la même manière pour tous, que certains réussissent grâce à leurs compétences tandis que d’autres réussiraient grâce à leurs relations, que l’accès à l’administration, à certains marchés, à certains emplois ou à certaines opportunités dépend trop souvent de réseaux que le citoyen ordinaire ne possède pas. Une société peut supporter longtemps les inégalités lorsqu’elle croit encore en la possibilité de les surmonter. Elle les supporte beaucoup moins lorsqu’elle commence à penser que le jeu est faussé. Dès lors, le problème n’est plus seulement celui du revenu. Il devient celui de la justice. Et lorsqu’un jeune Marocain considère qu’il peut travailler, se former, patienter pendant des années et néanmoins rester bloqué tandis que d’autres semblent contourner les règles, son désir de départ ne relève plus uniquement de l’économie : il devient une manière de sortir d’un système dans lequel il ne croit plus.

Ce phénomène rencontre une autre particularité marocaine : l’extrême faiblesse de la confiance accordée depuis longtemps aux intermédiaires politiques. Le gouvernement, les partis et le Parlement disposent évidemment de compétences constitutionnelles réelles, mais il serait artificiel d’analyser le Maroc comme une monarchie parlementaire européenne dans laquelle le souverain reste à distance du pouvoir politique quotidien. La monarchie marocaine est au centre de l’architecture de l’État. Le roi préside le Conseil des ministres, intervient dans les grandes orientations stratégiques et dispose de prérogatives constitutionnelles considérables. Pendant des décennies, cette centralité a constitué l’une des principales forces du système : les gouvernements pouvaient être impopulaires, les ministres remplacés, les partis discrédités, tandis que le souverain continuait d’incarner l’arbitrage, la continuité et, souvent, l’espoir d’une correction venue d’en haut.

Mais cette architecture comporte une contradiction que le Maroc ne pourra éternellement éviter. Plus le pouvoir réel est considéré comme centralisé, moins il devient crédible de faire porter indéfiniment la responsabilité des échecs sur ceux qui apparaissent aux yeux du public comme de simples exécutants. On ne peut attribuer au sommet toutes les grandes réussites du Royaume — l’industrialisation, les infrastructures, les choix diplomatiques, les grands projets — puis expliquer que le chômage, les défaillances des services publics, la corruption ou la perte de confiance relèveraient exclusivement du gouvernement du moment. La centralisation du pouvoir entraîne tôt ou tard une centralisation de la responsabilité. Et c’est probablement l’une des évolutions les plus sensibles de la période actuelle : sur les réseaux sociaux, la critique ne s’arrête plus systématiquement aux ministres ou au chef du gouvernement. Des paroles visant directement la monarchie et parfois le roi lui-même circulent désormais avec une liberté et une virulence qui auraient été beaucoup plus difficiles à imaginer publiquement auparavant. Il ne faut évidemment pas en déduire que la majorité des Marocains rejette la monarchie. Aucun sondage sérieux ne permet de le dire. Mais lorsqu’un tabou politique aussi profondément installé commence à s’éroder, le phénomène mérite autre chose que le déni.

C’est précisément ici que Ceuta devient politiquement explosive. Car pour la première fois, les mots que l’on entend depuis des mois sur les réseaux sociaux ont rencontré une action collective d’une ampleur exceptionnelle : partir. Non pas manifester devant un ministère, réclamer le départ d’un gouvernement ou attendre une réforme, mais franchir une frontière dès que l’occasion semble se présenter. Ceux qui sont revenus l’ont souvent fait parce que Ceuta ne leur offrait pas ce qu’ils imaginaient et que la route vers l’Espagne continentale restait fermée ; le retour ne signifie donc pas nécessairement que le désir initial de partir a disparu. Le 16 août, plusieurs milliers de personnes restaient encore dans l’enclave et des manifestants demandaient à ne pas être renvoyés au Maroc. Reuters rapporte que plusieurs Marocains interrogés expliquent leur départ par la faiblesse des salaires et des conditions de travail, y compris parmi les personnes qualifiées. Voilà pourquoi l’événement est beaucoup plus grave qu’une crise frontalière : il constitue une mesure brutale de la défiance d’une partie de la société envers la possibilité de vivre dignement chez elle.

La réponse des autorités ne pourra donc pas se limiter à fermer davantage la frontière, poursuivre les organisateurs de passages clandestins ou combattre les fausses informations, même si ces mesures peuvent être nécessaires pour éviter de nouveaux drames humains. Une frontière mieux gardée empêche un départ ; elle ne rétablit pas l’envie de rester. On peut neutraliser un compte TikTok ; on ne neutralise pas de la même manière le sentiment qu’une vie est bloquée. On peut arrêter ceux qui organisent un passage clandestin ; on ne peut arrêter une génération entière de se demander pourquoi elle devrait continuer à croire en un système qui ne lui offre pas suffisamment de perspectives. La sécurité peut empêcher la crise de Ceuta de se reproduire demain matin. Elle ne répond pas à ce qui a rendu cette crise possible.

Le Maroc doit donc choisir entre deux lectures de ce qui vient de se produire. La première consiste à considérer Ceuta comme un accident provoqué par les réseaux sociaux, quelques rumeurs et l’éternel attrait de l’Europe. Cette lecture est rassurante, parce qu’elle ne demande aucune remise en question fondamentale. La seconde consiste à admettre que Ceuta est le symptôme spectaculaire d’une crise de confiance beaucoup plus profonde : confiance dans la possibilité de progresser par le travail, confiance dans l’égalité des chances, confiance dans l’efficacité de la lutte contre la corruption, confiance dans les institutions politiques et, peut-être désormais chez certains, confiance dans l’arbitrage même de la monarchie. Cette lecture est plus inconfortable. Elle est probablement aussi plus utile.

Le Maroc n’est pas condamné au chaos. Il dispose d’un État solide, d’une administration puissante, d’infrastructures remarquables, d’une économie de plus en plus diversifiée, d’une diaspora considérable et d’une position géographique exceptionnelle. Il possède surtout une jeunesse dont l’énergie est évidente. Mais aucun de ces atouts ne garantit à lui seul la stabilité politique. Un pays peut être matériellement puissant et devenir progressivement fragile lorsque ses citoyens cessent d’associer son avenir collectif à leur propre avenir individuel. La stabilité ne consiste pas seulement à maintenir l’ordre ; elle suppose qu’une majorité de citoyens estime avoir davantage à gagner en restant dans le système qu’en cherchant à le fuir.

Ceuta devrait donc être prise comme un avertissement. Non pas comme la preuve que le Maroc serait condamné, mais comme la preuve qu’il n’est plus possible de différer certaines questions. Pourquoi un pays capable de réaliser des infrastructures que l’Afrique entière regarde avec admiration peine-t-il encore à offrir suffisamment d’emplois décents à sa jeunesse ? Pourquoi les stratégies anticorruption se succèdent-elles alors que la perception de l’injustice demeure aussi forte ? Pourquoi les partis et le gouvernement ont-ils si peu réussi à devenir de véritables lieux de confiance politique ? Pourquoi tant de Marocains, y compris des personnes qualifiées et insérées professionnellement, peuvent-ils considérer que leur avenir commence ailleurs ? Et surtout : combien de temps un système aussi centralisé peut-il continuer à réclamer la reconnaissance de ses réussites sans accepter pleinement la responsabilité de ses échecs ?

La question n’est plus de savoir comment empêcher les Marocains de partir. La véritable question est de savoir comment leur redonner envie de rester. À quelques années de la Coupe du monde 2030, ce serait peut-être le projet le plus important de tous. Car la grandeur d’un pays ne se mesure pas seulement à la beauté des infrastructures qu’il montre au monde. Elle se mesure aussi à quelque chose de beaucoup plus simple et de beaucoup plus exigeant : le nombre de ses citoyens qui croient encore que leur avenir mérite d’y être construit.

Belgrade’s EU envoy is coordinating an end-August accession push as scrutiny intensifies over judicial independence, corruption and media freedom

Serbia’s ambassador to the European Union, Danijel Apostolović, is carrying an unusually broad diplomatic brief this summer: persuading EU governments that accession talks should advance while coordinating the domestic reforms on which that progress depends. With Serbian institutions preparing an end-August submission to the European Commission, his work offers a window into the widening gap between opening another negotiating cluster and demonstrating lasting change in public life.

Apostolović has headed Serbia’s mission to the EU since June 2024. He became head of the country’s operational accession team in January 2026 and chief negotiator two months later, placing one official at the centre of both Brussels advocacy and domestic implementation.

That combination gives him influence, but also leaves little room to separate diplomatic messaging from measurable results. Serbia has remained an EU candidate since 2012, and its negotiations have not advanced at the pace now being set by several other enlargement countries.

An August deadline

According to a Serbian government account carried on 4 August, Apostolović convened representatives of the country’s negotiating groups to review their implementation of European Commission recommendations.

The institutions were told to complete their contributions by the end of August. Apostolović said each body would be responsible for the work within its remit and argued that Serbia should approach the Commission’s next annual assessment more proactively.

He also reiterated Belgrade’s position that Serbia has fulfilled the additional requirements for opening Cluster 3, covering competitiveness and inclusive growth. The cluster includes digital policy and media, taxation, economic and monetary policy, employment, industrial policy, research, education and customs.

The Commission has previously recommended opening the cluster, but the decision rests with EU member states. Their hesitation illustrates a central feature of the accession process: technical readiness in one group of policy chapters does not override concerns about democracy, fundamental rights or foreign-policy alignment.

Brussels has a longer ledger

The most recent institutional baseline is the European Commission’s 2026 Rule of Law Report on Serbia, published on 17 July. It records some corrective action, including measures that addressed a considerable part of the Venice Commission’s concerns about changes to judicial legislation.

However, the wider assessment remains sobering. The Commission found that political pressure on judges and prosecutors had increased significantly. It said concerns about prosecutorial autonomy persisted and that attempts to influence the office responsible for organised-crime cases had intensified.

The report also found that most activities in Serbia’s previous anti-corruption action plan had not been completed. Exemptions from public procurement rules remained widely used, while the country still lacked a robust record of final convictions in high-level corruption cases.

Media conditions form another obstacle. The Commission reported serious concerns about political and economic influence, weak enforcement of ownership and public-funding rules, and a further deterioration in journalists’ safety. Civil society organisations, particularly those working on electoral integrity, anti-corruption and the rule of law, were described as facing increasing pressure and attacks.

These are not peripheral issues to be addressed after accession negotiations accelerate. Under the EU’s current methodology, reforms involving the judiciary, fundamental rights and democratic institutions determine the pace of the process as a whole.

A diplomat facing two audiences

Apostolović must therefore speak to two audiences with different expectations. In Brussels, his task is to demonstrate that Serbia can implement European rules consistently and that further delay risks weakening public confidence in enlargement. In Belgrade, he must turn Commission findings into deadlines for ministries, regulators, parliament and law-enforcement institutions.

There is a legitimate case for keeping the accession route open. European integration can bring practical benefits through investment, research, infrastructure, environmental standards and easier movement across borders. As The European Times has reported, measures such as extending EU-style roaming arrangements to the Western Balkans can make integration visible in everyday life.

Credibility nevertheless requires the same clarity in the opposite direction. Opening Cluster 3 would be a procedural advance, not an endorsement of Serbia’s entire democratic record. Nor would a catalogue of newly adopted laws be sufficient without evidence that courts, prosecutors, journalists, watchdogs and peaceful civic organisations can operate independently.

What Brussels will watch

The documents submitted by the end of August will feed into a wider European assessment. The July rule-of-law report is a separate process, but it provides a current benchmark against which Serbia’s claims can be examined.

Member states will be looking for evidence of implementation: transparent legislative procedures, protection from political interference, credible corruption investigations, fair media regulation and effective responses to attacks on journalists and civil society. They will also weigh Serbia’s relations with Kosovo and its alignment with EU foreign and security policy.

Apostolović’s summer diplomacy matters because enlargement cannot be sustained through symbolism alone. His dual appointment makes him one of the officials best placed to connect Brussels demands with Serbia’s domestic machinery. It also makes the results harder to present as somebody else’s responsibility.

The coming weeks will show whether the end-August exercise produces a persuasive record of reform or another carefully assembled progress file. For Serbian citizens and EU governments alike, the decisive question is not simply whether another cluster opens, but whether accession is strengthening institutions that people can trust.

For some time, I have followed the work of Argentine Prosecutor Fernando Arrigo, whose conduct in several high-profile cases has raised concerns among human rights observers. I first encountered his name while studying the prosecution of Russian spiritual teacher Konstantin Rudnev, a case marked by procedural anomalies, questionable evidentiary practices, and an unusual insistence on portraying a dissident as a dangerous leader of a supposed “cult,” prompting me to express serious reservations. Recently, Argentine publications have brought renewed attention to another matter in which Arrigo plays a central role: the Franco Casco case.

The Casco case is among the most painful criminal proceedings in recent Argentine history. In 2014, young Franco Casco disappeared after being detained at a police station in Rosario. His body was later found in the Paraná River. The tragedy sparked widespread public emotion, and the victim’s relatives have consistently maintained that police officers were responsible for his death. The accused officers, meanwhile, maintain their innocence. I do not take a position on the merits of the case, which the courts must decide. My concern lies elsewhere: how the investigation has been conducted and the consequences of that conduct for the families involved.

Recent Argentine media reports detail the devastating human cost of preventive detention in this case. Several police officers have been held for years as the investigation continues. Their children have grown up without them, and their partners have endured long periods of uncertainty and anguish. One detained officer recounted that his child lost his hair from stress while he was imprisoned in Marcos Paz. Another described how his mother died before she could see him free again. These tragedies unfold quietly, far from the headlines, yet they are part of the reality of preventive detention when it is used for extended periods. Franco Casco’s family also deserves justice, but one wonders whether Arrigo’s methods are the way to obtain it.

The recent publications add a dimension that is impossible to ignore. They give voice to the children of the accused, who have lived their entire childhoods with a father behind bars. Sub-commissioner Enrique Gianola, who spent six years in preventive detention, said, “While I was imprisoned in Marcos Paz, my son’s hair fell out. The entire back of his head. They say it was because of the nerves. He could not bear that his father was no longer by his side.” These are words that convey more than any legal argument could.

Another child explained that he stopped celebrating his birthday because each year passed without his father at home. A young girl told reporters that she no longer remembers what it feels like to have her father pick her up from school. These are not rhetorical flourishes. They are the lived experiences of minors who have carried the emotional weight of a judicial process that has stretched on for years. Their words reveal the profound loneliness, fear, and confusion that prolonged preventive detention imposes on those who have no role in the case and no way to understand why their family has been torn apart.

One officer described how his son asked him during a prison visit, “Dad, when are you coming home?” The question is simple, yet it contains the entire tragedy of prolonged preventive detention. Children measure time differently. For them, a year without a parent is an eternity. Six years can reshape their entire emotional world. The Argentine media reported how some children developed anxiety disorders, how others withdrew socially, and how several began psychological treatment to cope with the absence of a father who had not been convicted of any crime. These accounts illustrate the human cost of a prosecutorial strategy that keeps individuals imprisoned while investigations stagnate. The families have protested for years. Prosecutor Arrigo has ignored them.

Argentine media have also gathered direct appeals from the children of the accused, who have tried to address Prosecutor Arrigo personally. Their words convey the emotional burden they have carried throughout these years. One child asked, “Mr. Arrigo, why did you lie to the court? Because of your lies my father was imprisoned, and I spent most of my life without him.” Another said, “Mr. Prosecutor, my father is innocent. Why do you want to imprison him again?” A third child declared, “Fernando Arrigo, my father was acquitted. Because of you he spent six years in prison while being innocent. Why do you now want to send him back behind bars?” A group of children added, “Please remove Fernando Arrigo from the Prosecutor’s Office. He kept our fathers illegally imprisoned for six years. Now they have been acquitted, but he wants to imprison them again, this time for life.” These appeals, ignored so far by Arrigo, reveal the depth of the suffering endured by minors who have grown up in the shadow of prolonged preventive detention and who now fear that the ordeal may begin anew.

According to estimates cited in Argentine discussions, about fifty thousand families have been affected by prolonged preventive detention in recent years. Fathers and husbands have spent years behind bars without a final judgment. Children have grown up in fractured households. Mothers have died without seeing their loved ones released. Six years of preventive detention can destroy any family. This practice inflicts suffering on defendants’ relatives, people who have not been accused of any crime and whose only misfortune is being related to someone caught in a slow and often opaque judicial process.

In the Casco case, the investigation has dragged on for years, and authorities have repeatedly extended preventive detention. Media reports describe procedural irregularities and evidentiary problems that have prompted criticism of Prosecutor Arrigo and his team. Concerns include reliance on incomplete or contradictory statements, the presentation of materials that do not withstand scrutiny, and an approach that appears to prioritize maintaining detention over completing the investigation on time. These criticisms echo those raised in other cases Arrigo handled.

The parallels with the Rudnev case are difficult to ignore. In that matter, an international academic study recently compiled reports that contradict the prosecution’s narrative. The defense has accused Arrigo of relying on flawed materials and resisting efforts to correct the record. Preventive detention has been prolonged, Rudnev’s dramatic health issues have been ignored, and the case has been marked by irregularities and delays that have raised questions about the prosecutor’s methods.

When similar concerns arise across multiple cases handled by the same prosecutor, it is legitimate to ask whether the problem stems from individual circumstances or from a broader prosecutorial attitude. Preventive detention is a powerful instrument. It should be used with restraint and only when strictly necessary. When it becomes routine, prolonged without clear justification, and accompanied by evidentiary practices that raise doubts, it becomes a source of injustice. It destroys families, undermines trust in institutions, and damages the credibility of the judicial system.

Argentina has a strong legal tradition and a vibrant civil society. It deserves a prosecutorial system that upholds the highest standards of professionalism and respect for human rights. The cases involving the Franco Casco defendants and Konstantin Rudnev suggest that something is amiss.

Repeated criticism of Prosecutor Fernando Arrigo, extended preventive detentions, delays, and questionable evidence gathering suggest a pattern that deserves serious scrutiny—a comment I make without implying any disrespect for the Argentine judiciary.

The suffering of families torn apart by years of preventive detention is real. The concerns raised by journalists, lawyers, and human rights defenders are real. The need for accountability is real. Argentina must confront these issues and ensure that prosecutors exercise their power fairly, transparently, and with respect for the dignity of all involved.

Marathons open Sunday before pole vault, distance finals and relays close Britain’s first European Athletics Championships

Birmingham enters the final day of the European Athletics Championships with a programme that moves from city-road endurance to an evening of stadium spectacle. The women’s and men’s marathons open Sunday’s competition before Mondo Duplantis, Europe’s leading distance runners and national relay teams take over Alexander Stadium.

By Daniel Mercer, Sports Correspondent, The European Times

A championship reaches the city

The women’s marathon is scheduled to begin at 07:30 BST, followed by the men’s race at 08:10. The road events offer Birmingham a final opportunity to bring the championships beyond ticketed stadium seats and into public space.

That matters for a competition being staged in Great Britain for the first time in its 92-year history. Major championships are often judged by television audiences, medal tables and attendance figures, but their public value also depends on whether residents can encounter the event as part of the city rather than as a closed production.

Birmingham City Council said the marathon and race-walking programme was designed to give spectators access to elite competition outside Alexander Stadium. The road-event plan placed the marathons on the closing morning after Saturday’s half-marathon and marathon race walks.

For the athletes, the early starts are practical as well as presentational. August distance races require organisers to manage heat, hydration, medical coverage and road conditions carefully. Those safeguards are part of the competition, not an administrative detail, particularly during a European summer repeatedly shaped by extreme temperatures.

Duplantis carries the evening spotlight

The championship returns to Alexander Stadium in the evening for the women’s javelin and long jump, the men’s pole vault and 3,000-metre steeplechase, the women’s 1,500 metres and three relay finals. The official closing-day timetable also includes a mixed 4×100-metre relay, followed by the women’s and men’s 4×400-metre finals.

The clearest individual focus will be on Sweden’s Duplantis. The world-record holder came to Birmingham seeking a fourth consecutive European outdoor pole-vault title, eight years after his 6.05-metre breakthrough at the 2018 championships in Berlin.

His dominance can make the discipline appear predictable, but pole vault rarely permits complacency. Changing wind, the precision of the approach and the small margins involved in selecting poles and passing heights can turn a commanding favourite into a vulnerable competitor. Birmingham’s unsettled summer conditions add another variable.

The final also gives Duplantis’s European rivals a significant stage. Even when gold appears beyond reach, championship medals affect national programmes, athlete funding and the confidence required to challenge again at global level. A contest does not lose its competitive meaning simply because one participant has pushed the standard far beyond what was previously considered normal.

Relays turn individual achievement into shared responsibility

The relay programme will provide a different closing rhythm. Athletes who have spent the week competing as individuals must exchange control, trust teammates and adapt to decisions about running order and recovery.

Relays also reveal the depth of national athletics systems. A country may produce one exceptional sprinter, but a successful relay requires several athletes, technical coaching, reliable changeovers and enough competition opportunities to build familiarity. The result therefore reflects development structures as much as individual speed.

The mixed 4×100 metres adds another layer. Mixed events can give women and men equal visibility within the same contest, but their credibility depends on clear rules, serious preparation and permanent inclusion rather than novelty value. Birmingham will help show whether the discipline can establish a durable place in major championship programmes.

What Birmingham leaves behind

Alexander Stadium was redeveloped for the 2022 Commonwealth Games, making these championships another measure of whether costly sporting infrastructure can sustain a useful life after its first global event.

Legacy cannot be reduced to the number of competitions secured. It includes community access, support for local clubs, affordable opportunities for young athletes and facilities that remain usable after broadcasters and sponsors leave. The European Times’ review of the past week placed Birmingham alongside other continental championships that are increasingly judged on governance, inclusion and public responsibility as well as performance.

Sunday will still be decided by competition. Marathoners must manage distance and conditions; field-event athletes must find precision under pressure; steeplechasers must combine pace with concentration; and relay teams must make every exchange count.

Yet the broader judgment will come later. A successful European Athletics Championships should leave more than memorable results. It should strengthen trust in the event, widen interest in the sport and give Birmingham’s communities reasons to see the stadium and its surrounding roads as part of their own sporting life.

Binding cross-border data orders promise faster investigations but place new pressure on judicial scrutiny, privacy and source protection

European judicial authorities will gain a faster route to digital evidence from Tuesday, when new EU rules allow binding production and preservation orders to be sent directly to service providers in another member state. The system could reduce costly delays in criminal investigations, but its legitimacy will depend on whether courts, governments and technology companies apply its safeguards consistently.

Regulation (EU) 2023/1543 becomes applicable on 18 August, three years after its adoption. It covers electronic communications, internet addressing, cloud storage and other data-processing services offered in the European Union, even when the requested information is stored elsewhere.

The change reflects a practical difficulty confronting investigators. Emails, messages, subscriber records and traffic data can be relevant to an offence committed in one country while being controlled by a company represented in another. According to the EU institutions, electronic evidence is potentially relevant to about 85% of criminal investigations.

A direct judicial channel

Under the new European e-Evidence framework, authorities can issue a European Production Order requiring a provider to hand over specified data. A European Preservation Order can require the company to prevent information from being deleted or altered while a subsequent request is prepared.

Providers will normally have 10 days to transmit data covered by a production order. In an emergency, the deadline falls to eight hours. Preservation orders must be acted upon immediately, with the information ordinarily retained for 60 days. The issuing authority may extend that period by another 30 days.

The orders cannot be used as open-ended demands for whatever information a company may hold. They must concern specific data, be necessary and proportionate, and be available under comparable conditions in a domestic investigation.

The level of judicial involvement depends partly on the sensitivity of the information. Judges, courts and investigating judges may issue the orders, while prosecutors can act independently for less intrusive categories such as subscriber information and data used solely to identify a user. More sensitive traffic and content data require stronger judicial authorisation.

Safeguards across borders

The central institutional innovation is also the source of the greatest concern. An issuing authority will usually communicate directly with the provider’s designated establishment or legal representative, avoiding the slower process of asking authorities in the provider’s country to obtain the evidence.

For certain demands involving traffic or content data, the enforcing state must receive the order at the same time as the provider. Its authorities may object where the information is protected by an immunity or professional privilege, where the order would manifestly breach fundamental rights, or where it conflicts with the prohibition on trying someone twice for the same offence.

That review is not universal. Notification is generally unnecessary for preservation orders, subscriber information and data requested solely to identify a user. It can also be omitted where the issuing authority has reasonable grounds to believe that the offence occurred, and the person concerned resides, in the issuing state.

Those distinctions matter for journalists, lawyers, doctors, activists and others whose communications may reveal protected relationships. The regulation instructs authorities and providers to consider immunities, privileges, press freedom and freedom of expression. Yet identifying protected information can be difficult when an order provides limited context or crosses several legal systems.

The person whose data are obtained must normally be informed without undue delay. Notice may be postponed where disclosure would obstruct an investigation, but the postponement must be justified. The individual can challenge the order before a court in the issuing state.

In practice, that remedy may involve a foreign legal system, another language and significant cost. Rights that exist formally will therefore need accessible procedures, legal assistance where appropriate, and courts capable of reviewing necessity and proportionality before the consequences become irreversible.

Companies become operational gatekeepers

Service providers must alert the issuing authority if an order is incomplete, manifestly erroneous or impossible to execute. They must also raise concerns when the requested information may be protected by professional privileges or rules concerning press freedom.

Companies that fail to comply without an acceptable reason can face penalties reaching 2% of their total worldwide annual turnover. This creates a strong incentive to respond quickly, particularly during the eight-hour emergency window.

European Digital Rights has argued that the notification system remains too narrow and leaves providers carrying too much responsibility. Its analysis of the legislative compromise warns that journalists, human-rights defenders, political opponents and lawyers could be especially exposed when another state does not examine an order before data are transferred.

Providers should not become substitute constitutional courts. Their role is to recognise evident defects, protect data and follow lawful orders. The responsibility for assessing legality, proportionality and fundamental rights must remain with independent public authorities that can be held accountable.

Implementation will determine trust

Member states have been required to establish competent authorities and ensure that covered providers appoint an EU establishment or legal representative able to receive orders. The Commission must also begin monitoring the regulation’s operation and complete an evaluation by August 2029.

That monitoring should reveal more than the total number of orders. Legislators and the public will need to know how often emergency procedures are used, how many orders are corrected or refused, whether notices to affected people are repeatedly delayed, and whether challenges provide remedies before improperly obtained data enter criminal proceedings.

Particular attention should be paid to differences between member states. Mutual recognition depends on confidence that every participating justice system applies comparable standards. Where judicial independence or the treatment of journalists and civil society is already disputed, a direct cross-border order can transmit those weaknesses beyond national borders.

As previous European Times reporting on surveillance and democratic accountability has shown, the existence of a legitimate security objective does not make every investigative measure proportionate. Independent authorisation, narrow targeting and effective remedies remain essential.

Speed requires accountability

The regulation does not itself create indiscriminate data retention or give investigators unrestricted access to online accounts. It establishes a targeted procedure for obtaining or preserving information already controlled by specified providers. That distinction should be maintained in both public debate and enforcement practice.

Faster access can serve victims and the administration of justice when evidence is at risk of disappearing. It can also magnify errors when an order is overly broad, politically motivated or issued without sufficient scrutiny.

From Tuesday, the e-Evidence system moves from legislation to daily institutional practice. Its success should not be measured only by how quickly data cross a border. The more important measure will be whether Europe can accelerate criminal cooperation without weakening the judicial protection that gives such cooperation democratic legitimacy.

Constitutional judges say child protection cannot justify indiscriminate restrictions and loosely defined age checks

France’s Constitutional Council has invalidated a law that would have barred children under 15 from social media, ruling that its blanket restrictions placed a disproportionate burden on freedom of expression and privacy. The decision does not prevent France from pursuing stronger online protections for children, but it requires lawmakers to distinguish between platforms, respect family circumstances and establish firm safeguards for any age-verification system.

The ruling, delivered on 14 August, interrupts President Emmanuel Macron’s effort to introduce the ban before the new school year. Parliament adopted the legislation on 21 July, after which more than 60 opposition deputies referred it to the Constitutional Council.

In its decision on the legislation, the Council accepted that protecting children’s health, safety and development is a legitimate constitutional objective. It nevertheless concluded that lawmakers had not reconciled that objective adequately with freedom of communication and the right to private life.

A ban drawn too broadly

A central problem was the law’s indiscriminate reach. The prohibition would have applied to all covered social-media services, without requiring evidence that each platform presented comparable risks to children.

That approach treated services with different designs, audiences and safety records as though they created the same dangers. It also failed to distinguish between children according to age, maturity or family situation.

The Council found that parents would have had too little room to guide their children or authorise access to particular services. A child approaching 15 would have faced the same automatic exclusion as a much younger user, regardless of the platform or the circumstances in which it was used.

The decision reflects a wider difficulty in European digital policy. Social media can expose young users to harassment, grooming, harmful content, commercial pressure and design features intended to prolong engagement. It can also provide access to education, friendship, cultural participation and public debate. Protecting children therefore requires more than choosing between unrestricted access and complete exclusion.

As The European Times previously reported, the European debate increasingly concerns the responsibilities of platform operators themselves. Regulators are examining recommender systems, addictive design, default privacy settings and content moderation, rather than placing the entire burden on children and parents.

Privacy problem reaches every user

The French law also required platforms to determine whether users were old enough to access their services. In practice, such a system could have obliged adults as well as children to prove their age.

The Constitutional Council found that the legislation did not define sufficiently the conditions, limits and safeguards governing that process. The concern was not merely technical. Age checks can involve identity documents, biometric estimation or information supplied by third parties. Poorly designed systems may collect more personal data than necessary, create new security risks or enable users’ activity to be linked across services.

A durable system must establish what information is collected, who can see it, how long it is retained and whether it can be used for another purpose. It must also provide alternatives for people who lack standard identity documents or whose appearance makes automated age estimation unreliable.

Those questions carry particular significance for marginalised children, including young migrants, children in care and those seeking confidential information about health, sexuality or abuse. A safety mechanism that blocks legitimate support or demands intrusive disclosure may create a different form of harm.

A narrower route remains open

The ruling does not amount to a constitutional endorsement of current platform practices. Nor does it prevent France from returning with a more carefully framed proposal.

A revised law could focus on services and design features for which specific risks have been established. It could give parents a proportionate role, recognise children’s evolving capacity and require platforms to reduce exposure to harmful recommender systems, unwanted contact and manipulative engagement features.

France will also have to align its approach with the Digital Services Act and the emerging European framework for age assurance. The European Commission has recommended anonymous proof-of-age technology designed to confirm that a user meets an age threshold without disclosing identity or date of birth to every platform.

Even privacy-preserving technology cannot answer the policy question by itself. Authorities must still decide when verification is necessary, which services justify it and what remedies are available when a person is wrongly excluded. Independent scrutiny will also be needed to assess accuracy, discrimination and data security.

Macron has asked the government to prepare a legally stronger proposal that accounts for the constitutional ruling and European law. The political pressure to act is unlikely to disappear, particularly as families, educators and health professionals raise concerns about children’s online experiences.

The Council’s message is nevertheless clear: urgency does not remove the need for precision. France can regulate platforms more firmly and protect children more effectively, but it must do so without turning every internet user into an identifiable subject or treating every young person’s circumstances as identical.

The next proposal will be judged not only by whether it keeps children away from harmful material, but also by whether it makes the companies designing digital environments bear a fair share of responsibility.