“SU TODA SANTIDAD” — His All-Holiness: the words have a sonorous ring in Spanish. But the only ring Cubans and tourists experienced during the recent visit of Patriarch Bartholomew of Constantinople to Havana was a police guard around an exclusion zone preventing anyone except invited guests from catching even a glimpse of the leader of the Orthodox churches worldwide. This was a pity, a needless reversion to old habits, for their curiosity — not to mention the natural desire on the part of this most hospitable of people warmly to welcome an unusual guest — was aroused by imposing banners posted at strategic points around the old city.

Patriarch Bartholomew came to Cuba at the personal invitation of Fidel Castro, who, in his declining years (he is now 78 and was celebrating the 45th year of his accession to power at the same time) is desperate to break out of the long isolation experienced by his country. Castro has seen eight American presidents and seven Soviet or Russian leaders come and go, but his seniority among world leaders does not put him high on anyone’s guest-list. None of the past three archbishops of Canterbury has visited the island and the growing Anglican community is eager to invite the Archbishop of Canterbury, Dr Rowan Williams, to make the trip.

The Patriarch had a full and interesting programme, accompanied by the production of an excellent leaflet in Spanish introducing the Orthodox Church. On his last day — Sunday, January 25 — he consecrated the first Orthodox church on the island. It is magnificently situated in the very heart of Old Havana, adjacent to the historic church of St Francis of Assisi (now deconsecrated and — Soviet-like — converted into a museum). At least Christian worship has now returned to this most beautiful part of the city.

The Church of St Nicholas itself was barely ready for the visit and the spire was still being hoisted to the top ten days after the Patriarch had departed. But it is a small jewel, exquisitely crafted in every detail, with modern icons inside and impressive memorial stones in the lovely garden outside, listing the Greek monasteries which contributed to the enterprise.

There are problems, however. Apart from the consensus that there are very few Orthodox believers on the island, no one knows exactly how many there are and where they are. Certainly, there are hardly any Greeks — perhaps fifty or a hundred. The majority are Russians or more likely the children of mixed Cuban-Russian marriages, dating from the days when Cuba was the Soviet colony in the New World. Of course, during the days of communism, most Russians would not have dared to attend worship there; yet now they will certainly not attend the liturgy in Greek, nor in Spanish (It is said that a Russian priest visits the Russian Embassy from time to time).

There is an extraneous political element involved, too. The Moscow Patriarchate — or at least some more conservative elements in Russia — is none too pleased at what is seen as an expansionist act by the Patriarch of Constantinople. For decades, Moscow has sought to increase its own sphere of religious influence worldwide and much resents the historic leadership which Constantinople exerts around the world. An article in a Russian Orthodox newspaper, Radonezh, has criticised the Cuban event in no uncertain terms.

Cuba’s Cardinal, Jaime Ortega, warmly received Patriarch Bartholomew during the visit and said that he viewed the consecration of the new church as a “sign of the presence of Jesus Christ in Cuba” — and this at a time when the Moscow Patriarchate and the Vatican are barely on speaking terms.

There is much of interest happening elsewhere in Cuban religious life. The Patriarch’s visit coincided with the 25th anniversary of Cardinal Ortega’s consecration as a bishop, when bishops and clergy came together to hear a congratulatory message from the Pope. Later this year Ortega will mark the eleventh anniversary of his elevation to cardinal.

He has seen immense changes during this quarter of a century. While huge problems remain, not least economic, in one of the world's poorest countries, he has at least presided over Castro’s abandoning of state atheism in favour of a measure of religious tolerance. It is just ten years since the president permitted communists to attend worship.

Cardinal Ortega gave an interview to a journalist while on a visit to Italy in October last year in which he made it clear that the Catholic Church is still subject to pressure. The Pope visited Cuba in 1998, which led to an improvement in what the Cardinal called “social acceptance”, but he went on to say: “The Office of Religious Affairs of the Central Committee of the Communist Party is always hovering over us. It is an organ of control which limits the evangelising action of the Church.”

The point of real conflict comes when Christians try to engage in democratic activities. There are many Catholics among the 75 new political prisoners arrested on March 18 last year, followed by hasty trials and prison terms for some of 28 years. A medical doctor, Flavio Javier Labrador Freige, a member of the “Christian Liberation Movement”, was arrested immediately before the arrival of Patriarch Bartholomew. Twelve thousand Cuban citizens are reported courageously to have signed a petition for a referendum on civil liberties. The Patriarch is reported not to have requested a meeting with any dissident leaders.

There is, nonetheless, a window of opportunity for Christians who try to work without confrontation. Baptists and Pentecostals are expanding their numbers. The Anglican Church — the “Iglesia Episcopal de Cuba” — is in good heart. A meeting with the Dean of Havana’s Trinity Cathedral, Juan Ramón de la Paz Cerezo, revealed a voice of optimism. The conversation revolved around the youth camps organised regularly by the young and enthusiastic leaders. They have translated Archbishop Rowan Williams’s account of his 9/11 experiences.

It is an open question whether Christians should adopt the “Anglican Cuban way” of non- involvement in opposition politics and quietly try to expand the limited area of freedom now available. Dean Cerezo would not understand this question: he has just been elected “mayor” of the eight-block area of the city where he lives — and Fidel Castro has spoken in his cathedral.