Assyrian Democratic Organization ADO
During the 23 years of Saddam’s rule, Ibrahim’s fealty has served him and hundreds of thousands of other Iraqi Christians well. But as a U.S.-led war against Iraq looks increasingly likely, Ibrahim believes the Christians’ luck might finally be running out, along with their leader’s.
“Until now this has been a very good place to be a Christian,” says Ibrahim, 50, a soft-spoken man with thick spectacles and a natty business suit.
His father opened the liquor store decades ago on Baghdad’s Aqaba Square. “The government likes us because we don’t cheat or lie.”
As Christmas approaches, Iraq’s 1 million Christians feel threatened. Saddam, for most of his career a moderate Muslim, is beginning to appeal to the country’s growing number of devout Muslims. A U.S.-led war, the Christians here believe, could pit orthodox Islam against one of the Middle East’s largest and oldest Christian communities.
With many involved in trade, Iraq’s Christians are known for being trustworthy, Ibrahim says. Ibrahim and other Christians interviewed during two weeks in the capital say they believe a U.S.-led war would be seen by many Iraqis as a battle between the Christian and Muslim worlds. “People will think we are with the Americans,” he says. Iraqi officials say there is ethnic harmony in the country. Ibrahim believes many Christians hesitate to mention tensions publicly, for fear of conflicting with official thinking on religion.
In fact, Christians in this country long known for its Western links and secular culture already have sensed a shift toward Islam. “Right now, Christians are afraid of the future, of what will happen. Most of the Christians are preparing to leave,” Ibrahim says. Hundreds of thousands already have. From the moment the 1991 Gulf War ended, Christians from one of the world’s most ancient communities began a stampede to the USA, Canada, Europe and Australia.
About 1 million of Iraq’s 24 million people are Christian. An estimated 500,000 Christians live in central and southern Iraq. That’s 50% fewer than the number that lived in that area a decade ago. About 500,000 live in northern Iraq’s three provinces, which comprise a semi-autonomous territory governed by two Kurdish parties. The area, which is under U.N. protection, is patrolled by British and U.S. jets. Many of the Christians are Assyrian Catholics, known as Chaldeans here, similar to those in Syria and Lebanon. Their liturgy is in Aramaic, the language Jesus Christ is believed to have spoken.
A large number of Christians fled the economic crash caused when the United Nations imposed economic sanctions after the Gulf War. The sanctions, designed to prevent Iraq from rebuilding its military, blocked all normal imports and exports. Baghdad now has to barter a limited amount of oil for goods. Many Christians were businessmen and traders. They were used to taking vacations in Europe and driving new cars. Unlike many Iraqis, they had the money to emigrate or had relatives in the West to help with visas. Ibrahim’s brother lives in Detroit. Others among his 11 siblings have scattered to Canada, Australia and Sweden.
The exodus of Christians from Iraq slowed by the mid-1990s. Those able to move already had left. Christians who stayed hoped the situation would improve. Having lived here since Biblical times, they say life in Iraq has been surprisingly secure since the Gulf War. Until now, they’ve seen few signs of prejudice. But they fear a U.S. military offensive could quickly lead Iraqis to become far more religious amid anti-American sentiment.
“I wouldn’t choose to live in any other country in the Middle East,” says Bob Shaya, 38. He runs a computer parts store in Baghdad’s high-tech district with his brother Samir. “This is the best thing about living in Iraq. There is no differentiation between Christian and Muslim.” The Shaya brothers have hung a cross next to the racks of software programs, which they copy and sell for $1.50 each. They say hanging a cross in a store in the neighboring Islamic republics of Iran and Saudi Arabia would be a risky move. “I don’t even like going outside to nearby countries,” says Samir Shaya, 40.
Iraq has until now been one of the most secular countries in the region. Saddam’s Baath Party has a policy of secularism. Tariq Aziz, the deputy prime minister and one of the Iraqi leader’s closest aides, is Christian. Christmas is an official holiday, although only Christians take the day off. Baghdad’s art galleries openly exhibit nudes.
Liquor stores like the one run by Yonan Ibrahim have catered to Christians and moderate Muslims — among them, government officials buying for government functions — who don’t follow Islam’s ban on alcohol. Islamic extremism has been heavily restricted under Saddam, a Sunni Muslim who has always regarded his greatest threat as coming from the religious Shiite majority that has close ties to Iran.
Iran and Iraq fought a seven-year war during the 1980s that claimed 1 million lives. The West saw Baghdad as a buffer against the fundamentalist Islamic leadership that removed the pro-Western government of the shah in 1979. Saddam, in turn, saw Iraq’s Christians as a counterbalance to any Shiite Muslim fervor. Because of their secular traditions, many Iraqis say they are baffled by the Bush administration’s claims that al-Qaeda terrorists might receive help from Iraq.
But cracks in Iraq’s moderate Islamic culture began surfacing a few years ago. Some Iraqis have turned to religion for relief from the poverty caused by the sanctions. Masterful at sensing the popular mood, Saddam has changed too. He banned alcohol from restaurants and cafes, which long gave Baghdad, a city of 5 million people, a buzzing nightlife. The government-controlled Iraqi television began broadcasting hours of clerics reading the Koran. Last year, a cleric went to the holy Muslim city of Mecca, Saudi Arabia, to perform a pilgrimage on behalf of the Iraqi president. And Saddam has spent tens of millions of dollars building several mammoth mosques in Baghdad. One is the largest in the world outside Mecca.
Christians say they sense that the shift toward Islam here has accelerated since the Sept. 11 attacks. They believe some Iraqis identified with the strong anti-American feeling. Others were swept up in a move to more radical Islam in the region. Ibrahim says his business has been pummeled as people have become more observant. “It’s unbelievable, my business has gone down more than 50% since Sept. 11,” he says. “Sometimes I can’t pay the salaries of the workers.”
Perhaps the greatest shock to Christians came in August. A 71-year-old Assyrian nun, Cecilia Moshi Hanna, was knifed to death and then decapitated in a botched robbery of church relics in Mosul, about 250 miles north of Baghdad. The city, which is known as Nineveh in the Bible, houses priceless Christian relics. Three men were publicly hanged in Mosul’s main square for having carried out the murder, according to Ibrahim. “It was a way (for the government) to say that nobody must do this again,” he says. Government officials would not confirm the hangings.
In an attempt to bring some Christmas cheer, a group of French missionaries traveled to Iraq last week with the bones of St. Theresa of Lisieux, a French saint best known as “the little flower of Jesus.” She died from tuberculosis in 1897 at the age of 24. She was canonized for her devotion to teaching spirituality. Iraqis packed churches to see the box of bones lying on the altar.
In the Saint George Chaldean Church in New Baghdad, a relatively prosperous part of the city, about 500 people crowded into the pews for a special Mass for the bones last week. In a hall filled with incense smoke, they crossed themselves and chanted ancient Assyrian prayers.
For a brief moment, the community was at peace. In his private office, the parish priest admitted the church has been through rough times.
“Our parish has 2,500 families. But it is a lot smaller than it was 10 years ago,” said Habib al-Nofaley, sitting at his desk in his long black robes. “Many are leaving for economic reasons.” Whether they begin leaving for political reasons, too, will depend on what happens during the next critical months.
Ibrahim says many Christians believe they will be targeted if a U.S.-led war ousts Saddam, who has until now shielded them from discrimination.
Some fear a post-Saddam Iraq could bring a far less tolerant country toward Christians if anti-American feelings run high. “Our government likes us, and they protect us,” he says. “But if something happens, we don’t know what it will be like. We are really afraid.”
