When They Canceled Christmas

BAGHDAD, Iraq — Nestled off a bustling shopping avenue in central Baghdad, Babylon Farms offers all the retail trappings of Christmas.

Baskets brim with glitterdusted ornaments. A 4-foot Santa Claus doll towers over the cash register. Rows of decorated trees and plastic red poinsettias line the shop.

The only thing missing? Customers.

“All the Christians have left the country,” said Saif Sadi, the manager of the store, where sales this season are down 75 percent.

After a painful year of church bombings, death threats and assassinations, Iraq’s 800,000 Christians have all but canceled Christmas.

“Officially, we are not celebrating this year,” said Father Peter Haddad, head of the Virgin Mary Church in Baghdad.

Fearing insurgent attacks in this predominantly Muslim country, bishops around the country recently announced they would call off the usual Christmas festivals and celebrations. Some churches also canceled Christmas Eve Mass, an unheard of step even during the Saddam Hussein regime.

Attendance has plummeted. More than 700 people once packed Haddad’s church during the holiday. On Dec. 12, 27 brave worshipers showed up.

Iraq is home to one of the oldest Christian communities in the world, made up largely of ethnic Assyrians, an ancient people who speak a modern form of Aramaic, the language Jesus spoke.

Some Christians have called for the establishment of a “safe haven” in Iraq’s north, where they would be protected by special Iraqi army units. Others are threatening to add a Christian militia to Iraq’s already militarized society.

“Assyrians need security, so we need a legal army within the Iraqi army to protect ourselves,” said Michael Benjamin, a leader of the Assyrian Democratic Movement.

Said another Assyrian leader, Yonadem Kanna, “We do not want to transform our movement into a militia, but if we need to we can arm more than 10,000 people.”

Christians have enjoyed peaceful relations with Muslims for hundreds of years. But after the U.S.-led invasion, insurgents began targeting the community, accusing Christians of cooperating with American “infidels” by working as translators, house cleaners and merchants. Harassment by Islamists became so bad that many Christian women took to wearing Muslim hijab to cover their heads.

“We are the agents of no one, and we don’t accept being linked to the occupiers because of our religion,” Kirkuk Archbishop Luis Saco recently told parishioners as he announced the cancellation of Christmas celebrations in that northern city. “Blowing up our churches and frightening our sons will not solve the problems of Iraq.”

Christian leaders estimate as many as 50,000 Christians have fled the country since last year, mostly to Jordan and Syria.

Christians say the attacks — including the coordinated bombings of five churches last August and drive-by shootings of Christian liquor store owners — have spoiled what is typically the most joyous time of year for their community.

In the past, George Goryal, 50, a father of four, celebrated Christmas by taking the family on a picnic. This year they’re staying indoors.

The family hopes to attend Christmas Eve Mass, but Goryal is so worried about attacks he’s developed a strategy to reduce his exposure.

“We will go to the church only two at a time,” Goryal said. “When the first two come back, then two more can go. It’s safer this way.”

Some churches have resorted to armed guards. At Syrian Catholic Church of the Lady of Salvation, young men with Kalashnikov rifles and 9-millimeter pistols stood guard during a recent funeral for a parishioner who had been shot dead on his way to work as a bartender for a Baghdad social club.

Other church leaders said they are loath to use metal detectors, body searches or U.S. troops during the Christmas holiday, and therefore would rather cancel events altogether.

“Christian families are going to suffice with celebrating with friends and relatives at their houses,” said Sameer Khoori, vice chairman of the Hindiya Social Club for Christians.

Traditionally, Christians in Iraq mark the holiday with lavish parties at restaurants, outings to amusement parks and large family gatherings. As in the United States, families would decorate homes with colorful lights and pine-covered wreaths.

But Christians say there’s little point in hanging Christmas lights when electricity outages in recent weeks have provided them with just four hours of power a day. Gasoline shortages have cut into plans to visit relatives in other cities.

Despite the problems, many Iraqis said they are determined to keep a Christmas spirit.

“Our beliefs will never fade,” said Hazim Jameel, 47, a taxi driver who was buying a Christmas tree on his day off. “It’s vital that people live their normal lives.” His wife, Fadia Issa, 31, said the family would still prepare a traditional Christmas dinner and give gifts to their three young children. “It’s important for the children,” she said.

The George family, which was also out buying a Christmas tree, will skip services this year and improvise the usual traditions. Rather than taking the children to see Santa Claus at the local social club, an older brother will dress up and play the part at home, said Faruq George, a Baghdad merchant.

Knight Ridder News Service contributed to this report.

© 2004, Assyrian International News Agency.