OVER the quarter-century since the collapse of the Soviet system, Russian feelings about religion have changed a lot, as one might imagine. In Soviet times, the state expected and encouraged citizens to be atheists. Now a loose affiliation to a religious faith has become the national default mode; a plurality of Russians tell pollsters they are Russian Orthodox, while significant minorities identify with Islam, Buddhism or Judaism. But a survey published a few days ago (link in Russian) by one of Russia's best-known pollsters, VTSIOM, showed something unexpected in its comparison of present-day attitudes in Russia with those of 1990. Although there is a jump (from 23% to 55%) in the share of people who say they are sometimes "helped" by religion in their own lives, the general effect of religion on human welfare is viewed in much bleaker terms than before. The proportion of people who think religion does more good than harm to society has slumped from 61% to 36% while the share detecting more harm than good has risen from 5% to 23%.

One can guess at least part of what is going on here. In 1990, many Russians saw religion in the same rosy glow in which they saw everything non-Soviet, from rock music to fast food to monarchism. If the Soviet Union had been against it, they were for it—or thought it at least worth a try. Religion seemed daring, different and exotic. The Soviet system did tolerate religious structures, including the Russian Orthodox hierarchy, as long as they were loyal to the state, but they were pretty weak. Since then the visible strength and privilege of officially-blessed faiths (mainly but not only Orthodox Christianity) has grown enormously. Religion is viewed as a partner in power, and not in any sense counter-cultural.

In presenting the figures, the pollster observed that around 1990, religion had for a time become a "widespread social fashion" after the limits on its practice were lifted. Since then, people have learned to distinguish faith as such, which many still find personally meaningful, from religion as an institution, which many view critically. The fact that radical Islamist movements, barely on Russians' radar in 1990, have since become a major security threat may also play a role.

In certain ways, though, official religious life in today's Russia is not really all that different from Soviet times, apart from being vastly more prominent. Established religious leaders are still expected to put their prestige at the service of the state, and to get along with one another in ways that preserve social peace and burnish the country's image abroad. While repressing certain forms of Islam, as well as Western-connected religious minorities such as the Jehovah's Witnesses, the state encourages set-piece religious diplomacy involving officially favoured leaders.

In June, for example, prominent Russian Orthodox clerics and Muslim religious leaders from as far afield as Syria and Indonesia attended a grand meeting in Moscow on Russia's "strategic partnership" with the Islamic world. Foreign minister Sergei Lavrov delivered a message of encouragement from President Vladimir Putin. The meeting was chaired by the acting leader of Tatarstan, a historically Muslim territory in central Russia whose skyline (pictured) is dotted with minarets as well as church domes. It was reported Friday that prominent Muslims from around the world, as well as Orthodox Christians, Jews and Buddhists, would be invited to the opening of a large new mosque in Moscow in September.

None of this careful choreography convinces religious-liberty campaigners in the West that Russia has fully accepted freedom of conscience. In an op-ed published this week, two leaders of the United States Commission on International Religious Freedom urged Russia to "embrace religious diversity". They also asked the country to reconsider an "extremism" law which, as amended in 2007, is so broadly worded that just about any faith could be charged with "inciting religious discord" merely for asserting the truth of its own beliefs. The European Court of Human Rights is currently considering an appeal against the law lodged by Jehovah's Witnesses.

In Russia's current mood, Western appeals for a change in the official treatment of religion, or of anything else, are likely to receive a grumpy response. But the new opinion polls suggest that the Russian public may be less enamoured with their country's religious leaders than with their secular ones. Or that the state's effort to tame and co-opt the power of religion has not been entirely beneficial—to the state, or to religion.