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Copyright 2007 © All rights reserved. Designed By:
Mays Domat
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By Hind Aboud Kabawat
Presented to
Professor JOHN HAMMOCK
JULY 18, 2003
To my Mom and
Dad, Uncle Emil and Samuel, who always watch over me…
To my children
John and Nouha
Maria who represent the future of the two lands I cherish
The Greatest
Syria and my beautiful Canada
Special thanks: To my great team, Brett,
Davey, Ingrid, John and Sean, ( I could not do it without their support).
To my advisor: Professor Hammock who
changed my view of life through his inspiring and powerful lectures.
To Dean Deborah Nutter: Who helped me to
understand the essential role of leadership.
Thanks for being my friends: Anne,
Charlotte, Gabriel, Gemma, George, Ginette, Haya, Ibrahim, Houda, Jason,
Joumana, Katia, Kiat, Omar, Rafif, Robert , Sahar, Samer, Sonia and Yvone. .
TABLE OF CONTENT
Section A:
IDENTITY AND DESTINY:
THE CONUNDRUM CONFRONTING CHRISTIANS IN THE CONTEMPORARY MIDDLE EAST
Section B:
EMIGRATION, THE FAIL-SAFE OPTION FOR CHRISTIAN ARABS
Section C:
TOLERANCE AND TORMENT:
THE HISTORICAL EVOLUTION OF THE CHRISTIAN/MUSLIM RELATIONSHIP IN THE MIDDLE
EAST
CHRISTIANS IN THE MUSLIM EMPIRE:
CHRISTIANS WITHIN THE OTTOMAN EMPIRE:
CHRISTIANS AND THE MODERN ARAB STATE:
Section D:
KEEPING THE FAITH:
CONTEMPORARY SYRIANS AND THE COMMITMENT TO SECULAR ARAB SOCIETY
Section E:
CONCLUSION
BIBLIOGRAPHY
INTERVIEWS
Christian Arabs are in a unique position
to be the defenders of secularism in the face of rising Muslim fundamentalism.
In a remarkable
book, "In the Name of Identity," the distinguished Lebanese/French writer Amin
Maalouf vividly discusses the complexity of being at one and the same time an
Arab and a Christian in the contemporary Middle East. From Maalouf's
perspective speaking Arabic, which he terms "the holy language of Islam,"
connects him to a rich cultural and political tradition that is deeply Muslim
and eastern, while being a Christian, whether religious or not, connects him
to a world which is much more western, secular, and humanist.
Let me quote a
passage which captures the essence of what Maalouf's perceives to be a
paradoxical dilemma: The challenges of being deeply engaged with two global
communities that are frequently at odds with each other, while at the same
time sharing many similar traditions.
Amin Maalouf writes:
"Speaking Arabic
creates bonds between me and all those who use it every day in their
prayers...If, for instance, you are in central Asia and meet an elderly
scholar outside a Timuride ‘medersa,’ you need only address him in Arabic for
him to feel at ease. Then he will speak to you from his heart, as he'd never
risk doing in Russian or English. This language is common to us all--to him,
me and to more than a billion others. On the other hand, my being a
Christian--regardless of whether I am deeply religious or merely for
sociological reasons--also creates a significant link between me and two
billion or so other Christians around the world. There are many things in
which I differ from every Christian, every Arab and every Muslim, but between
me and each of them there is also an undeniable kinship, in one case religious
and intellectual and in the other linguistic and cultural."(1)
Being "intimately"
involved with two great cultural traditions clearly has its advantages. Does
it perhaps allow Christians in the Middle East to play the role of honest
broker between Arabs and westerners? Maybe. Or are they more likely to be
caught in the crossfire? Also a distinct possibility. But arguably the major
legacy of being both Arab and Christian in the Middle East is that you are, a
member of a minority in your own society, and as Amin Maalouf writes this is
"not always easy to accept." (2) Ever since the Islam triumphed over
Christianity in the seventh century, to become the dominant religious force in
the Middle East, Christians have been a minority within Arab society.
Sometimes tolerated; occasionally oppressed. Still, throughout the long
historical arc of its relationship with the Muslim majority, it survived and
often flourished. Perhaps possibly till now. Why? Because, likely, at the very
core of the Christian community in the Middle East is a profound paradox.
Which I seek to explain in this paper.
Never before have
Christians enjoyed as much political equality and religious tolerance as they
do presently in most Arab societies in the Middle East. Syria (until recently
was Iraq, as well) is run by a secular party, the Baaths, ideologically
committed to keeping church and state separate. In Egypt, the large Coptic
Christian minority wields disproportionate influence in political affairs, as
do Christians in Jordan. And while Lebanon has not returned to the equal
constitutional division of powers between Christians and Muslim, which was the
case before the civil war of the 1980s, both communities, under the new
political arrangements, enjoy significant influence in affairs of state.
Clearly Christians do not enjoy much influence in Saudi Arabia, or most of the
Gulf states, but neither do they constitute a significant community in the
region.
So, if it is
accepted that Christian minorities enjoy greater tolerance and influence than
ever before, why does it sometimes appear that Christians constitute a
community diminishing in size and importance? For proof, look no further than
the population and emigration statistics. For a variety of reasons, which this
paper shall explore, Christian communities throughout the Middle East have
been shrinking in size at the same time as they’ve been constitutionally
guaranteed more civil, political and religious rights. Just consider some
statistics. In his essay, "The Emigration of Christian Arabs: Dimensions and
Causes of the Phenomenon," a sociologist at the University of Bethlehem,
Bernard Sabella, estimates that between 26.5% to 34.1% of the entire Christian
population of the Middle East has already emigrated. Others believe the
numbers are much higher. At the fifth annual general meeting of The Middle
East Council of Churches, held in January, 1990, it was estimated that the
number of Arab Christians worldwide was 15-million, and the number living "in
diaspora" was 10-million. (3) In other words, two-thirds lived abroad in
Europe, the Americas, Australia, etc. Over the last few decades, the size of
the Christian community in Syria, alone, is estimated to have contracted from
15% to 8%.
The reasons behind
this massive outflow of Christians to Europe, the Americas, Australia, are
varied and complex, and while it is true that in recent years Muslim
emigration from the Middle East has also risen dramatically, there is no
question that the movement overseas of Arab Christians has had a much greater
impact on their community than a similar emigration has had on the Muslim
majority in large part because the Christian community is so much smaller. The
attraction of the west to the Arab Christians is equal parts economic,
political and cultural. And that "gravitational pull" westwards speaks
directly to the issues of identity raised earlier by Amin Maalouf.
So why does the
West hold such allure for Arab Christians? Let’s look first at historic and
cultural issues. Beginning as far back as the early nineteenth century,
European and American missionaries, with their schools, and other social
organizations, had a profound impact on Christian communities in the Middle
East. Long before western values had a similar impact on the Muslim majority,
Arab Christians benefited from western education and values, which resulted in
their playing a disproportionately prominent role in business, politics, civil
administration and culture. Quite simply, Christians "leveraged" their
cultural and religious relationship with the West to acquire skills somewhat
earlier than their Muslim bothers. This does not mean that all Arab Christians
are wealthy and well-educated, or that there are no poor or working class
Christians. That is clearly not the case. But beginning early on, the values,
which Arab Christians share with their religionists in the West, resulted in
their enjoying options not initially shared by their Muslim brothers. Again,
let’s look at emigration statistics.
Beginning as early
as the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries, Arab Christians
emigrated to Europe and North and South America in significant numbers, and as
a result most middle-class Arab Christian families in the region have
relatives in Buenos Aires, or Boston, or elsewhere. As Bernard Sabella notes,
there is "a much higher percentage of Christians [than Muslims] intending to
emigrate because of the presence of relatives abroad "(4) so, when life became
difficult in the Middle East, the option to leave was (and is) clearly
available. Again, look at the statistics. For over fifty years, the Middle
East has been a region in political and economic turmoil, and after
ever-significant geopolitical crisis, the Christian community contracted.
According to Bernard Sabella, only 42.5% of Palestinian Christians, or 170,000
people, still live in Palestine/Israel. About 230,000 Christian Palestinians
live abroad, in the Diaspora. In the wake of the Civil War in Lebanon, it is
estimated that over 990,000 people, or forty percent of the population of the
entire country, left, the majority of them Christian. An estimated 300,000
Maronites, alone departed. (5)
And though it is a
much harder phenomenon to track, Christians are much more likely to move
whenever they feel threatened by the emergence of Muslim fundamentalism, which
many feel directly, threatens their own identity and security. As well,
Christians are more likely to feel compelled to emigrate in search of
political and civil rights enjoyed by most societies in the West and sometimes
absent in more rigidly controlled traditional Middle Eastern societies. As
Bernard Sabella notes, "Whenever there is doubt about the possibility of a
democratic pluralist society, fears are aroused and sensitivities grow to
become stumbling blocks in inter-communal relations."(6) The consequence is a
further hemorrhaging of Christians from the Middle East.
If Christians are a
community in flux, it is also one with a tradition of coexisting with its
Muslim brother, which dates back over one and a half millennia. Let us look
briefly at the contours of that long historic relationship, and the legacy it
has left us today. When Prophet Mohammed began preaching his gospel in Mecca
between 610-622, he came in contact with both Christians and Jews and he
coined the expression "Ahl al-Kitab" ("Peoples of the Book") to describe them.
The founder of Islam perceived Christians to be, like Muslims, believers who
possessed a written revelation, a holy book. Ever after, this distinction
between those who were "people of the book," and those who weren’t, influenced
Islam’s relationship with infidels, or unbelievers. Those without a "book"
could expect little mercy from Muslim conquerors: convert, or face dire
consequences. But to the latter, he extended an olive branch. They could
coexist, as long as both Jews and Christians submitted to the political will
of Islam.
As Samir Khalil
Samir notes in his essay, "The Christian Communities, Active Members of Arab
Society throughout History," Prophet Mohammed offered Jews and Christians an
arrangement for coexistence in a document called the "Sahifa." "In this model,
people are not considered directly, but as members of a group; if the group
has a status, then the people belonging to it will have the same status. If
the group does not have a status, then the person is distinctly
marginalized."(7) This system was termed the "dhimma" in Arabic, and it
defined communal relations between Muslims, on the one hand, and Christians
and Jews, on the other, for many centuries to come. As Samir writes, "Muslims
had a duty to protect these groups and their members and in exchange they were
obliged to submit to the Muslim regime. The aim was to build a Muslim society
in which those people who did not belong to Islam were tolerated. This is how
the expression ‘tolerance,’ referring to Islam, was derived."
But key to the
dhimma system was tolerance not equality, or acceptance. And for Christians
(and Jews) to be tolerated, they paid a price: Strict adherence to certain
rules. These rules were based on the famous "conditions of Umar," a document
attributed to Caliph Umar who died in 644, and in which the "dos" and "don’ts"
of "minority status" were graphically delineated. Christians and Jews could
practice their religion, but not too visibly. As Samir observes, "Christians
must not carry or wear a visible cross; they must not put a large cross on top
of the church, conduct processions outside the church, or ring bells...The
church or synagogue must not be too tall; the building must be more modest
than all the Muslim religious buildings in the area."(8) Conversion to
Christianity, or Judaism, was strictly forbidden. If a Christian Women married
a Muslim man, the children would be raised as Muslims, and a Christian man
could only marry Muslim women if he converted beforehand. Over the centuries
Christians paid special taxes--the "jizya" (a head tax) and the "kharja" (the
land tax)--to practice their religion, and in many communities Christians and
Jews were obligated to wear special clothes to distinguish them from the
Muslim majority.
Still, for
centuries the dhimma system worked quite well. As Samir notes, "There were no
persecutions in the Muslim empire. There were exceptions, but they were
rare...and in comparison to the Western medieval system, the system of the
dhimma was more than satisfactory in terms of the freedom it allowed certain
subordinate religious groups. If you had no political demands, if you did not
aspire to power of any kind, everything was fine. You were free to develop
within your own culture and your own religion, as long as you accepted the
supremacy of Islam and its right to islamicize the population, without the
right to proselytize for Christians or Jews."(9)
Mind you, there are
those who argue that Mohammed and the early Muslims had little choice but to
tolerate the Christian Arabs. When they stormed out of the Arabian Peninsula,
Prophet Mohammed and his followers encountered a civilization much more
advanced than their own nomadic provincial society. Though infused with a
religious ideology which viewed itself as a universal culture that regulated
all aspects of daily life, it was evident even to the early Muslims that
Christian Arabs, better educated in Western ideas and mores, were
indispensable to the administration of a Muslim empire that had been conquered
more by force than divine revelation, or brain power.
In his book
"Christian Communities in the Arab Middle East," the Italian historian Andrea
Pacini notes, "Christians had an active and often little known role in the
development of Arab culture...With their knowledge of Greek and Syriac and
their Hellenistic and Bystantine cultural background, the Eastern Christians
played a fundamental role as mediators between this culture and the Arab
Muslims, both as regards state administration and purely cultural matters.
They therefore made an essential contribution to the emergence of the new
synthesis of Islamic culture and philosophy, which built on the Greek cultural
heritage. It was the Christian philosophers in fact who played an active and
creative role by translating the most important Greek philosophers, such as
Aristotle and Plato, and the neo-Platonists, from Greek or Syriac into
versions of Arabic. Particularly when the Abbasid Empire was formed in 750 and
the capital was moved to Baghdad, the caliphs boosted culture greatly and
encouraged the spread of Greek works throughout the Arab empire. For this they
mainly relied on Christians, who as important cultural mediators in the Arab
world, laid the foundations for the subsequent development of science and
philosophy in the Arab world."(10)
So though Muslims
often like to assert that their culture flourished when Europe was mired in
the Dark Ages, it was a culture whose foundation was laid by their Christian
Arab brethren. Paradoxically, however, the influence of Arab Christians began
to wane around the 10th century, perhaps early foreshadowing what may be
happening in the Middle East, today, as the size and possibly the importance
of the Christian minority would appear to be decreasing. To Pacini, this
relative decline "made it more difficult for [Christians] to play an important
role in Arab society."(11) (What was true then, may be true today.) The
reasons behind Christian decline are not hard to decipher. Though the "dhimma
system" encouraged tolerance, it seriously inhibited dynamic growth within the
community. Laboring under endless restrictions, Arab Christians dwindled in
numbers and influence.
Christian fortunes
didn’t reverse until the 17th century with the emergence of the Ottoman
Empire. And the beginning was not promising. When the Ottomans undertook the
first census of their empire in 1570, Christians composed a scant 8 per cent
of the population. But over the next three and a half centuries, the Christian
community thrived under the auspices of the Ottoman sultans, and as Pacini
notes, this resulted in "an extraordinary numerical increase on the one hand
and a restoration of their importance in social and cultural life on a large
scale."(12)
So why did
Christians prosper under the Ottomans while they declined under the dhimma
system of the Muslim empire, which had been the institutionalized status quo
for over a thousand years? Historian Samir Khalil Samir believes much of the
explanation can be sourced to events reshaping European politics and society,
and how first Christians and then their Ottoman overlords reacted to these
changes. Argues Samir, "The age of the Enlightenment, the American revolution,
and especially the French revolution, brought different approaches to the
concept of liberty. The result was that Christians began to make more claims,
not for special privileges, but for equal rights, both for themselves and
others."(13)
The response of the
Ottomans to both "external changes" and "internal demands" was actually quite
enlightened. First, they transformed the status of Christians from "dhimmi"--essentially
tolerated, protected outcasts--into something resembling citizenship. And they
did so, in part, to placate the Europeans powers whom Arab Christians had
enlisted to plead their case in Istanbul.
Organizationally,
the Sultan divided the Empire, for administrative purposes, into a system of
"millets" (nations) through which it gave legal recognition to the
multi-religious composition of the Empire. In the beginning only four millets
were recognized--Muslim, Jewish, Greek Orthodox and Armenia--but under
pressure from European states over the course of the nineteenth century other
religious denominations were given official status. Within the millets, each
group enjoyed relative freedom, equality, and autonomy. Now, this system of
identifying an individual’s social identity, and their citizenship, around
their religion has deep roots in the Middle East. But by the late nineteenth
century, the millet (sectarian religious) system confronted another trend,
which would transform Middle Eastern politics and society: Arabism, or
pan-Arabism. So while it is true that the millet system dramatically expanded
the "rights" of non-Muslim peoples, it did nothing to assuage a growing desire
for Arabs to see themselves as one community, an ulama. A whole people.
Still, without
question, the Christian community flourished under Ottoman rule, and towards
the end of the Empire, Christians accounted for 24% of the population of the
Empire. In the area then called Greater Syria (presently Lebanon, Syria,
Jordan and Palestine), the figure rose to 30%. As the Christian communities
grew in numbers, wealth and influence, they expressed their yearning for a
larger role in society through a movement called "the Nahda" (Arabic for”
rebirth"). Originally a movement to reform the Catholic church within Syria
and Lebanon, it transformed into a movement whose aim was to bring the
cultural, scientific and technological progress underway in Europe and the
Americas to the Arab world. As Samir Khalil Samir argues, this rebirth was
evident in all aspects of life: economics, politics, literature, science,
philosophy, culture, art and so on. "All the modern ideas at the beginning of
the 20th century, a time of unbridled liberalism, were transmitted through
Arab Christians, to the newspapers and journals which they edited in Cairo,
Alexandria and Beirut... It was a real explosion of life and freedom which was
expressed by every means."(14)
Not that the
Muslims were unaffected by the challenges posed to Ottoman and Arab society by
progress in the West. In an intriguing book called "Three Reformers, A Study
in Modern Arab Thought," historian Khaldun S. Al-Husry examines the influence
of three nineteenth-century Muslim thinkers on the movement to "modernize" the
Arab world. As al-Husry notes in the book’s introduction, his choice of
"Muslim" intellectuals was deliberate because "any investigation of modern
Arab political thought must deal primarily with the problems of adaptation and
reconciliation of Islamic thought and institutions with the thought of the
Christian West. Christian Arab thinkers do not have to face these
problems."(15)
Among the most
insightful of these thinkers is Khayr al-Din al-Tunisi, a renaissance man who
was born a slave but ended up a senior courtier to the Ottoman sultan at the
end of the nineteenth century. To Khayr al-Din, the true source of Western
power, prosperity and progress was the political systems of European states
which, he argued, were based on justice, liberty and, arguably most
importantly, the rule of "man-made" (not religious) law. As al-Husry writes, "Khayr
as-Din discerns in these systems an absence of despotic and arbitrary rule,
responsible government, and the sovereignty of law."(16)
The Ottoman
responded to these demands for a more civil western society through a series
of reforms. Among the most important was the Tanzimat ("regulations"), which
modified the Islamic "shari’a," Koranic religious law, with a secular civil
code. But such reforms only partially mollified a Christian community
increasingly restive about restrictions inherent in the sectarian millet
system. As it turned out, the Sultan’s reforms were too little too late for an
Empire disintegrating from its own internal contradictions. Both Christians in
the Balkans and the Arabs in Greater Syria balked at being under the control
of a Turkoman-based regime in Istanbul. In Greater Syria, the outlet for this
discontent was an Arabism, which could be shared by both Christians and
Muslims. All that was needed to topple the Ottomans was a gentle push; the
First World War had to suffice.
With the total
collapse of the Ottoman empire after World War I, so-called Arab separatism
transformed into an Arab nationalism, in the guise of a group of new Arab
states in the former Greater Syria, under the control of the League of
Nations’ "mandated" powers, Britain and France. Within these new political
arrangements, Christians faced new challenges, and some unanswered questions.
Would they be as secure as CO-citizens with their Arab Muslim brothers as they
had been under the "protection" of the Sultan. In his book, "The Arab
Christian, A History in the Middle East," the historian Kenneth Cragg puts the
issue succinctly. "If Arab Islam had thus come to terms with its national
destinies from the 1920s on, Christian Arabs, by the same token, had to reckon
with their new condition as Co-citizens, no longer contractually protected as
subordinates--with all the vagaries that entailed--but in some sense partners
in the jostling fortunes of statehood."(17)
To Kenneth Cragg,
the Christian Arabs in Syria were most strenuously involved in the conflicts
of regional identity and Arab unity. "Their dilemmas with Islam in that
context pointed them strongly toward secular solutions of the perennial
problems within and between faiths."(18) But how would this new secularism be
achieved in a society, which had for a millennia delicately balanced the
competing demands of ethnicity and religious belief? One thing was certain:
What was true in Syria resonated in Jordan, Iraq, Lebanon, Palestine, etc.
The foundations for
a secular Arab nationalism had been laid with the "Nahda," the Arab rebirth.
But as Andrea Pacini notes, "The aim of the Nahda was the political, social
and economic renewal of Arab society, and it considered Arab identity as the
common base for this. Emphasizing Arab identity therefore gave an ideological
base for the construction of national independence and also meant that both
Muslims and Christians could be involved in constituting modern states, as
religious differences were integrated into the idea of a common Arab
identity."(19)
But behind this
grand secular rhetoric there was always an issue just under the radar screen:
Did the Muslim majority "buy into" this fundamental premise? As Pacini notes,
there was always two currents of thought about the "Nahda" among Muslim. One,
deeply secular, and another "which considered Islam to be the predominant
cultural feature of Arab identity and called for it to be recognized as
such."(20) In the decades following the full independence of Arab societies in
the Middle East, following the Second World War, this tension--this dialectic,
if you will--between secularists and Islamicists would surge and wane. But it
was always there.
In the initial
phases of Arab nation building after the Second World War, it is obvious
Christians had disproportionate influence. As Pacini argues, "The cultural
development of the Christians in the preceding decades, and their exposure to
Western liberal ideas, resulted in their having undeniable influence within
different movements for national independence and cultural renewal."(21) And
in the beginning, at least, much of the Muslim elite were favorable to a
State, which depended on common national citizenship and not on religious
affiliation. Adds Pacini, "This choice of secularism was a clear symbol of
their break with the tribal Ottoman past and their entry into the modern
world."
So how successful
has been this political project: the transformation of Arab society into
secular states where Christians and Muslims could live together in peace and
equality? Both Iraq and Syria were governed for decades by the Baath Party,
whose founding principles were deeply secular, and the founder of the Syrian
branch of the party, Michel ‘Aflaq, was himself a Christian. In Egypt, the
Coptic Christian community had a major role in the Wafd nationalist party,
also essentially secular in nature. But was this commitment to secularism
matched by one to democracy and pluralism? To Pacini, "democratic structures
within most of these secular political organizations were in most cases
fragile and they often regressed towards nationalistic authoritarian
governments."(22) From his perspective this happened in Syria, Iraq, and
Egypt, and this increasing nationalist authoritarianism led many Christians to
distance themselves from the national cause--and emigrate.
Even Christian
secularists like Michel ‘Aflaq were not averse to sentiments strangely more
sectarian than secular. In his book, "To the Memory of an Arab Prophet," "Aflaq
argues for something akin to Christian "assimilation" "Arab nationalism will
only fully awaken in Christians," he writes, "when they understand that Islam
is a national culture which they must assimilate till they understand and love
it. Then they will be devoted to Islam as to the dearest aspect of their
Arabism."(23) But is such assimilation likely among communities which have
spent decades (centuries) oscillating between their "religious identity" and
their "Arab ethnicity"? Probably not. Secularism has been the preferred
political strategy for Christians precisely because they do not want to
assimilate. As historian Kenneth Cragg argues, it was the Baath Party’s raison
d'être:, "Was it born primarily in despair at fractious incorrigible
sectarianism? Was it, indeed, prescient about the tragic fate awaiting
Lebanon?"(24)
So how does
secularism work in most Arab societies in the Middle East? Clearly democracy
as understood in the West is either stillborn, or floundering. But for the
most part secularism has succeeded ( Lebanon)--with the caveat that there is
always a clear and present danger of it being swamped by resurgent Islamic
fundamentalism. Mind you, it remains secularism with a distinct Middle Eastern
hue. Take the Syrian Constitution of 1973, for instance. As Cragg notes, "It
affirms that Islam is ‘the religion of the President of the Republic’ and that
‘Muslim law is the principal source of law.’"(25) This is clearly not
secularism as understood in the West. But the Syrian Constitution, however,
does not declare Islam to be the state religion, and in 1949 Husni al-Za’im
had all references to religious affiliation eliminated from Syrian identity
cards. As Bernard Botiveau noted in his essay, "The Law of the Nation State
and the Status of non-Muslims in Egypt and Syria," "this assured that
individual and collective rights would not be determined by religious
affiliation."(26)
As well, Syrian
reforms to laws around personal status (in 1953 and 1975) have tended to
harmonize laws for Muslims and non-Muslims. As Botiveau notes, "For Muslims,
these included new restrictions on polygamy and the obligation to conform to
the laws of the civil State...In a corresponding fashion, non-Muslims were
also subjected to this type of reform."(27) Not surprisingly, in such a
traditional society, such secular reforms encountered serious resistance from
Muslim fundamentalists and in the early 1980s the Muslim Brothers openly
challenged the Baathist Constitution of 1973, and the ulemas, the governing
religious bodies, demanded that Islamic law become the main source of
legislation, and the shari’a, Koranic holy law, be fully applied. As Botiveau
notes, "The Alevite government’s suppression of the Muslin Brothers in 1982
silenced the Islamist movement and forced it to go underground."(28)
The Muslim Brothers
revolt likely reaffirmed support of the Christian community for the Baath
government in Damascus. But if the threat of a more radically politicized
Islam has been suppressed for now, will it be forever? That question looms
large on the Arab Christian political horizon. To answer that question,
experts constantly monitor political trends in the region. Which factors are
fundamentally shaping the political culture of Arab world? And what are the
implications for the Christian minority? To Andrea Pacini, three main social
and political directions characterize the contemporary Middle East. "The first
is the affirmation of a nationalist policy, particularly evident in Syria,
Iraq and Egypt. The second is the emergence and intensification of the process
of Islamization, which has increased particularly from 1970 onwards. And the
third is the eruption since the 1970s of long, protracted conflicts in both
Israel/Palestine and the Gulf."(29)
To many there is a
direct link between the resurgence of militant Islam and the oppression of the
Arab Regimes, according to the Arab Human Development report 2002, lack of
education, low life standard, health, Government are not allowing their
citizen to enjoy the freedom of living a daily life, or having a free press,
use for the internet without restriction, control the media, the press. And
all of all the dictatorship system, also, the financial funding from the
United States to some of the Muslim fundamentalism movement like the Tailbone
in Afghanistan, and non -ending conflict between Israel and Arabs over the
Palestine. For Pacini, it has renewed the importance of religious affiliation
and its influence on institutions and society. "The question of the secularity
of institutions and the idea of citizenship, both decisive for the status of
non-Muslims, are again open to question and in the political debate."(30) For
now, under the leadership of the new president, Bashar Assad, the situation in
Syria seems stable. In Iraq, under Saadam, the Christian community had become
quite marginalized. Though nominally secular, the Iraqi Baath party recognized
Islam as the state religion and Christianity had no official status. And aside
from being one-man despotism, Iraqi politics was almost feudal, "clan
centric." On the whole, the survival strategy of the Christian community was
to keep a low profile. How Christians will fare under American occupation
remains to be seen.
As members of the
largest Christian community in the Arab world, Egyptian Copts have benefited
from administrations in Cairo, which, though authoritarian and nationalist,
were committed to a secular order. But most experts believe that a period of
intense Islamization, both of society and state institutions, is underway. And
no one doubts this poses a direct threat to the political rights of the Copts
and other religious minorities. Their perceived solution: To ally themselves
ever more tightly with the established political order under President Hosni
Mubarak. As Dina El Khawaga argues in his essay, "Political Dynamic of the
Copts," "the domination of Islam became ‘the common enemy’ of the ruling power
and all the ‘legal’ political forces."(31) Other commentators agree. "The
improvement in relations between the Egyptian government and the Coptic
Community is part
of a wider strategy of the State’s opposition to political Islamization and
the Islamic movements," argues Andrea Pacini. (32) Give the tactics of some
militant groups the Christian minority has little alternative.
In their campaign
to create an Islamic State, ruled by the shari’a, radical Islamic movements
often commit acts of violence against the Copts, and some radical Islamic
leaders have openly suggested the Copts be reduced to their former status as "dhimmi,"
marginalized, if tolerated, outcasts. Confronted with such pro vocations to
its secular political culture, the Egyptian political establishment has
rallied in support of its Christian minority. As Dina El Khawaga notes, "The
non-Islamist opposition forces took every opportunity to reaffirm their
support for their Coptic co-patriots and vigorously denied the existence of
tension between Copts and Muslims. In other words the perception of the
Islamic threat, previously felt solely by the Copts, became, or appeared to
become at least, the common denominator of the majority of political and
social actors."(33)
For a secular Arab
society to remain vibrant and healthy, mainstream opinion in both the Muslim
and Christian communities must remain steadfast in support of a secular
political order (as per the Mubarak regime in Cairo). Nowhere are the stakes
higher than in Syria with its small but well-established Christian community.
Awhile back, I conduced a series of interviews with opinion leaders in both
religious communities, and I found the majority remained sanguine about the
future of secular society within the country and the region--even in the wake
of the Muslim Brothers revolt in Syria in the early 1980s, and the bitter
collapse of sectarian peace across the border in Lebanon during its protracted
civil war. Indeed, many Syrians (Muslim and Christian) reject the very
characterization of Christians as being a "minority" and Muslims a
"majority."
"I don’t believe it
is politically correct to use the term "minority" to describe citizens who
have full rights under the law," argues Sunni Muslim Hussein Odate, the author
of a book called "The Christian Arabs."(34) "They have all the freedoms and
responsibilities of other citizens: work, travel, trade, military service, so
the term is inaccurate." Iskandar Louka, a Baath Party activist, and a
Christian shared that sentiment. "Aside from the presidency of the Republic,
all positions in society are open to Christians, and they have equal
opportunity to advance within this society and economy."(35) Even an active
member of the Syrian Communist Party, George Ouisheh, rejected as specious any
suggestion that Christians lacked rights enjoyed by Muslims. "There are no
differences in Syria; everyone is equal under the law."(36) (More than one
noted how for over thirty years, under the Baaths, Christians have been
permitted to parade through the streets on Palm Sunday and Good Friday.) When
dissent did occur around issue of "minority status," it was among Christians
nostalgic for the old days when "westernized" Christians enjoyed "economic"
advantages not enjoyed, for the most) part by their Muslim brothers. "I
certainly don’t think Christians play the same role in Syria today as they did
in the past," comments Nabil Shweiri, a prominent Christian businessman, "and
they certainly don’t enjoy the same economic privileges they formerly enjoyed
doing business in Europe."(37)
On the issue of
whether the secular order is secure, or is threatened by a resurgence of
Islamic fundamentalism, opinions vary. "I think secularism has been a big
success in Syria," says Bishop Asador Battikha, the head of the Roman Catholic
Church in Damascus. "All Syrians want to live together in peace, jointly proud
of their culture and heritage."(38) To many, the Baath party remains central
to the viability of a secular political order in the country, and many take
pride in the Christianity of the party’s founder, Michel Aflaq--although as
George Ouisheh notes, "Aflaq was rumoured to have converted to Islam when he
believed the party was becoming more Muslim in nature." Still, Ouisheh, a
communist, firmly believes the Baath Party is based on tolerance. Perhaps not
surprisingly, Iskandar Louka, a party activist, agrees. "The Baath Party is a
success because it was founded on the principle of equality for all. As former
president Hafez Assad liked to say, ‘Arabism belongs to both Christians and
Muslims.’"
But are communal
relations in Syria too dependent on a single party whose only serious
opposition is a Muslim fundamentalism, which rejects the current consensus?
How secure is Syria’s secular political culture? Such questions can provoke
sharp divisions and occasional defensiveness. "What threats are you referring
to?," responds Hussein Odate. Adds George Ouisheh, "I don’t think Muslims
threaten Christians in any serious way; we are all one nation, and any
bitterness is usually the result of interference from external forces, like
the superpowers." But others are not as optimistic. "Threats to the secular
civil order in an old issue in the Middle East," says Nabil Shweiri, "you get
used to it." Others, however, believe it is vital to remain vigilant about
threats to their community. As Kheir Beik Khaddan, an highly intelligent
Alawite journalist, and the daughter-in-law of the Syrian prime minister,
notes, "Arab Christians are threatened in many parts of the Middle East, if
not in Syria, itself."(39)
As to how
Christians should deal with the "threat" of fundamentalism, there seemed no
consensus other than strengthening the community’s commitment to a secular
non-religious Syrian nationalism. "I don’t believe it is viable for Christians
to have an independent policy on this issue of Muslim fundamentalism other
than working with progressive forces in the Muslim community," argues Hanan
Kheir Beik Khaddam. To Nabil Shweiri, the idea of Christians acting
independently in response to fundamentalist threats is, itself, inherently
dangerous. "It would be absurd to say there are no fundamentalist sentiments
in the country, but it would be equally foolish for Christians to try to deal
with the issue independently. Syria will only ‘modernize’ through Islam; to do
so any other way would only provoke an extremist reaction."
Such "hands-off"
sentiments seem to form the consensus among Syrian Christians. "There should
be no independent strategy to deal with any real, or perceived, fundamentalist
threat," argues George Ouisheh. ." Others agree. "There should be no
independent Christian response to any threat to the secular order," says
Iskandar Louka, "only a national one." For Bishop Battikha, "The best defense
against political or religious extremism is for Christians to always behave
like ‘civilized Arabs.’ Cherish our nationality, our culture, our intellectual
heritage."
On whether the
Christian community has any special role to play promoting a more open
democratic pluralist society, the consensus seemed to be "no," with an
occasional caveat. "I think it is everyone’s duty to work for democracy not
just the Christians," says Iskandar Louka. "By being open-minded, Muslims and
Christians can work together for a free liberated society." "There is a need
for both communities (not just Christians) to work to improve human rights and
support a free press, free judiciary, etc.," argues Hanan Beik Khaddam. Adds
Hussein Odate, "Both societies must work together." Still others, like Nabil
Shweiri, think it inappropriate for a minority community, like Syrian
Christians, to even contemplate taking such initiatives. "It’s not their
role."
Still, the role and
identity of Christians within Syrian society remains complex and sometimes
elusive. Modern Arab nationalism has been quite successful at defusing many of
the communal/ religious divisions, which have for generations plagued Middle
Eastern society. But not all of them. As with Amin Maalouf, issues around
identity still perplex many Christians. Who am I? Where do I belong? Am I an
Arab first, or a Christian? Is my spiritual/cultural home in the East? Or the
West? To many contemporary Christians their status as Syrian citizens is the
source of their identity. As Hussein Odate notes, "Syrian Christians belong to
the Syrian nation." But for others, such nationalism is tempered by a sense of
still being torn by rival loyalties. As Hanan Kheir Beik Khaddam observes,
"The simple truth is that many Syrian Christians possess two contrary
instincts: the sense of being part of their homeland, and the feeling of
belonging to a society in the West, a society which is more highly developed
and offers greater opportunities for them and their children. The result is
every day in this country Christians leave, go abroad."
So what is the
impact of being a Christian in a traditional, predominantly Muslim society in
the Middle East? That would appear to depend on your perspective, your place
in society. To George Ouisheh, the communist, the impact is "very positive."
"Christianity started in the East, and influenced the world with its culture
and literature." To Nabil Shweiri, the businessman, the impact is "very
negative." "That’s why there has been this massive migration of Arab
Christians to Europe, America, Australia. At the beginning of the twentieth
century, Christians were fifteen per cent of the population. Now they are just
eight per cent." Syria Christians, it seems, often choose to vote with their
feet.
So, quo vadis?
Wither goes the Christians of the Middle East? What are their options other
than emigration in their quest to live in a free, open, democratic, tolerant
society? A respect for the human right, free press, full equality, not
worrying from the future. For those who choose to remain in the Middle East
(as Syrians, Lebanese, Jordanians, Egyptians, and yes, Iraqis) the challenge
will be discovering ways to work with their Muslim neighbors and fellow
citizens to build a society, which reflects the aspirations of both
communities. Many Christians often feel their Muslim countrymen feel a greater
kinship with a stranger in Pakistan than the Christian next door. But then
many Muslims likely feel the Christian down the hall has more empathy with an
Anglican bloke in Birmingham, England, (or she) does with the folks who attend
the local mosque. In Canada there’s a term, which has been used for
generations to describe the often-distant aloof relationship between Anglos
and the Quebecois: "Two Solitudes." That term, at times, feels very resonant
in the Middle East.
But as the above
discussion with Syrian men and women attest, there is both a profound desire
to form a constructive relationship between the country’s two religious
communities, and an equally keen desire not to rock the (political) boat. Both
sides share a deep love of their country and a compelling attachment to their
"Arabness." But they differ possibly in the depth and nature of their external
attachments. More than their Muslim brothers, Christians clearly have a
profound connection to the West, and though they often share the anger as
Arabs at what they feel is unfair treatment from the US and other Westerners
in the region, that anger rarely turns violent and destructive.
Clearly what
troubles Arab Christians most is the potential for the region to veer off the
path of secularism and democratic reform and back to a narrow intolerant
repressive Islamic theocracy. That option is clearly unacceptable to most
Christians, and it would likely cause a mass exodus from the region. As the
Syrian men and women above demonstrate, there is little interest in a
political activist agenda. Throughout history that has often been the
"survival strategy" for minorities in societies in transition, or crisis.
Sometimes it has tragic results. Think of the Jews of Europe. Or the Muslims
of Bosnia. So maybe the time is ripe for Arab Christians to make a clear,
consistent, insistent case for secularism and reform throughout the region.
At one point in his
book, "In the Name of Identity," Amin Maalouf warns of the dangers of
complacency in an era prone to "tribalism." He writes, "If the men of all
countries, of all conditions and faiths can so easily be transformed into
butchers, if fanatics of all kinds manage so easily to pass themselves off as
defenders of identity, it is because the ‘tribal’ concept of identity still
prevalent all over the world facilitates such a distortion."(40)
May that not be the
fate of ever again of anyone, anywhere, of any faith, color, or creed. For
secularism to triumph in Syria and elsewhere in the Middle East,
everyone--citizens and politicians--would be well advised to heed the words of
the late Antoine Saadeh, i, the founder of the Syrian Socialist Nationalist
Party, who liked to say, " No differences among religion.”
or Kawakbi a Syria who called for the new birth, (Al-Nahda), when he addressed
Syrian Christian as follows:
Let’s us forget the past and its
errors and let us all acknowledge that religious belongs to God and the
homeland belongs to us all. You were the first to arrive to this land and you
are the wisest. Let us strive to live together and to build a future. You
are not guests in this land; you are in your own country. You are no guest of
this language, it is yours and you have done priceless work for it.
Bernard Botiveau,
The Law of the Nation State and the Status of non-Muslims in Egypt and Syria,
Clarendon Press, Oxford, 1998
Kenneth Cragg, The
Arab Christian, A History in the Middle East, Westminster/John Knox Press,
Louisville, Kentucky
Dina El Khawaga,
The Political Dynamics of the Copts: Giving the Community an Active Role,
Clarendon Press, Oxford, 1998
Khaldun S. al-Husry,
Three Reformers, A Study in Modern Arab Political Thought, Khayats, Beirut,
1966
Amin Maalouf, n the
Name of Identity, Arcade Publishing, New York
Andrea Pacini,
Christian Communities in the Arab Middle East, Clarendon Press, Oxford, 1998
Bernard Sabella,
The Emigration of Christian Arabs: Dimensions and Causes of the Phenomenon,
Clarendon Press, Oxford, 1998
Samir Kamil Samir,
The Christian Communities, Active Members of Arab Society Throughout History,
Clarendon Press, Oxford, 1998
Bishop Asador
Battikah, Roman Catholic Bishop of Damascus, interviewed in Damacsus, Syria.
June 2003.
Hanan Kheir Beik
Khaddam, a Journalist, Alawite, interviewed in Damascus Syria. June 2003.
Iskandar Louka, a
Christian, Baath Party Activist. interviewed interviewed in Damacsus, Syria.
June 2003.
Hussein Odate, a
Sunni, the author of the Arab Christian interviewed in Damacsus, Syria. June
2003.
George Ouisheh,
Christian, an active member of the Syrian communist party. interviewed in
Damascus, Syria. June 2003
Nabil Shweiri, a
prominent Christian business man. interviewed in Damascus, Syria. June 2003.
FOOTNOTES
1) Amin Maalouf,
In the Name of Identity, published by Arcade Publishing, New York,
page 17
2) Maalouf, page
17
3) Bernard Sabella,
"The Emigration of Christian Arabs: Dimensions and Causes of the Phenomenon,"
in Christian Communities in the Arab Middle East, The Challenge of the Future,
edited by Andrea Pacini, Clarendon Press, Oxford, 1998, page 129
4) Sabella, page
147
5) Sabella, page
135
6) Sabella, page
152
7) Samir Khalil
Samir, "The Christian Communities, Active Members of Arab Society Throughout
History," in Christian Communities in the Arab Middle East, The Challenge of
the Future, edited by Andrea Pacini, Clarendon Press, Oxford, 1998, page 69
8) Samir, page 72
9) Samir, page 71
10) Andrea Pacini,
Christian Communities in the Arab Middle East, Clarendon Press, Oxford, 1998,
page 4
11) Pacini, page 5
12) Pacini, page 5
13) Samir, page 75
14) Samir, page 88
15) Khaldun s. al-Husry,
Three Reformer, A Study in Modern Arab Political Thought, Khayats, Beirut,
1966, page viii
16) al-Husry, page
40-41
17) Kenneth Cragg,
The Arab Christian, A History in the Middle East, Westminster/John Knox Press,
Louisville, Kentucky, page 151
18) Cragg, page
151
19) Pacini, page
11
20) Pacini, page
11
21) Pacini, page
11-12
22) Pacini, page
12
23) Cragg, page
161
24) Cragg, page
162
25) Cragg, page
163
26) Bernard
Botiveau, The Law of the Nation State and the Status of non-Muslims in Egypt
and Syria, in Christian Communities in the Arab Middle East, The Challenge of
the Future, edited by Andrea Pacini, Clarendon Press, Oxford, 1998, page 115
27) Botiveau, page
119
28) Botiveau, page
122
29) Pacini, page
13
30) Pacini, page
13
31) Dina El
Khawaga, The Political Dynamics of the Copts: Giving the Community an Active
Role, in Christian Communities in the Arab Middle East, The Challenge of the
Future, edited by Andrea Pacini, Clarendon Press, Oxford, 1998, page 189
32) Pacini, page 17
33) El Khawaga,
page 189
34) The Arab
Christian by Hussiein Odate, published in Damascus,
35) Interview
conducted with Hussein Odate, Author, interview date June 2003, in
Damascus, Syria.
36) Interview
conducted with Dr. Iskandar Louka, who work in the Presidential consultancy
and advisory office in Damascus, Syria. interview date June 2003, in
Damascus, Syria.
37) Interview
conducted with George Ouiesheh, a member of the Communist Party. Interview
date June 2003, in Damascus, Syria.
38) Interview
conducted with Nabil Shweiri a Business Man., interview date June 2003, in
Damascus, Syria.
39) Interview
conducted with Bishop Asador Battikha, Roman Catholic Bishop of Damascus
Catholic Church, interview June 2003, in Damascus, Syria.
40) Interview
conducted with Hanan Kheir Beik Khaddam, Journalist, interview date June
2003, in Damascus, Syria
41) Maalouf, page
29
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