When he confronts Alyosha with the cruel facts of worldly, corrupt priests, the young man winces. There is very little he can respond with, except to say that the Baptist church is less corrupt than the Russian Orthodox church. Alyosha's final argument — that his imprisonment is cause for rejoicing because it gives him a chance to contemplate and strengthen his faith — is met with a resigned silence by Ivan. What he wants is an explanation for his being imprisoned. Alyosha can take solace in the fact that he is a martyr for his faith, but Ivan is here, in the prison camp, because Russia was not prepared for World War II in 1941. She sent him to the front lines ill-equipped, to be taken prisoner by superior German forces, and then punished him for that. For Ivan, religion provides no satisfactory answers for such anguished questions as "Why am I here?" and "Was it my fault?"
At some point, Ivan even expresses doubt that he still wants to regain his freedom. First of all, he does not know whether he will really be released at the end of his term. Second, he doubts that he will be allowed to go home and rejoin his family, even if he is released. Third, and most depressing, he does not know any longer where he would be better off.
It is easy to understand that a prisoner, after eight years, would have many doubts concerning whether or not he would be able to readjust to life outside the camp. The stable prison routine, despite all its cruelty, could begin to seem like a safe, comfortable place.
