A Wary Easter Weekend for Christians in Syria

By ANNE BARNARD

Andrea Bruce for The New York Times

 

Syrian Christians at Zaytoun Church in Damascus on Good Friday.

The holiday is infused with uncertainty for Syria’s Christians, with many saying they fear not only the country’s general chaos, but also the rise of religious intolerance.

• Slide Show: Christians in Syria Celebrate Good Friday With Hope and Fear

  
  

  

  Andrea Bruce for The New York Times

  Syrian Christians at Zaytoun Church in Damascus on Good Friday. More Photos »

  By ANNE BARNARD

  Published: March 30, 2013 

   

  DAMASCUS, Syria — Torches flickered outside the church. Little girls wore their sparkly Easter best. Children bearing lanterns filed out through the heavy gilt doors, as worshipers carried an icon of Jesus and a cross covered with carnations.

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  Slide Show

  Christians in Syria Celebrate Good Friday With Hope and Fear

  
  

  But the Good Friday procession at St. Kyrillos Church here in Syria’s capital did not follow the route it had taken for generations. No drums or trumpets announced its presence. The marchers made a tight circle inside the iron-gated courtyard, then headed back into the church, a hedge against the mortar shells like the one that hit a hospital across the street recently. At pauses in their singing, gunfire rattled, not more than a few blocks away.

  Easter weekend is usually the year’s most festive for Syria’s Christians, but this year, it is infused with grave uncertainty. Christians here say they primarily fear the general chaos enveloping the country as the war enters its third year. But like members of Syria’s other religious minorities, many Christians also fear what they see as the rise of extremists among the mainly Sunni Muslim rebels fighting the government of President Bashar al-Assad.

  As they gathered in small knots in the church courtyard — which on a normal Good Friday would have been packed — many parishioners wondered aloud where they would be next Easter.

  “Either everything will be O.K. in one year, or there will be no Christians here,” said Ilias, 20, a man who, like some other Christians quoted in this article, was willing to give only a first name.

  At the church on Friday night, many parishioners said the coexistence of Christians and Muslims was deeply ingrained in Syrian society, and they did not believe that the rebels were targeting them because of their religion. Their main fear was that Christians, perceived as wealthy, were targets for financially motivated kidnappers.

  But they worried that the equilibrium had changed. They have heard stories of churches being burned. They are hosting Christians who have fled Damascus suburbs as fighting encroached, some of them saying they were pushed out by hostile Sunni fighters.

  Although the nominal rebel leadership outside the country has vowed that all sects will be treated equally if Mr. Assad falls, some rebel groups inside Syria have called for an Islamic state. That means different things to different people, but some fighters have alarmed Christians by calling for archaic practices from the days of the caliphates, like taxing religious minorities.

  “There are strangers who are against the way we used to live together,” said Nancy, 16, who was heading home for her family’s usual Easter feast, a classically Syrian meal of kibbe — bulgur wheat stuffed with meat — and tabbouleh.

  “The only way to split Syria was through sectarianism,” she said. “They want to split the Christians from the other sects.”

  The government and rebels blame each other for introducing sectarianism into the conflict. The government has long portrayed the uprising, which began as a peaceful protest movement, as fueled by foreign-driven Muslim extremism. The rebels say the government, dominated by Mr. Assad’s Shiite Alawite sect, stoked fear among minorities to keep them loyal. There are some Christians among the opposition, but not a critical mass.

  Syria has one of the oldest Christian communities in the world and one of the largest in the Middle East — about 10 percent of the population. (Most Syrian Christians are Eastern Orthodox and will celebrate Easter on May 5.) Christians have long been prominent among the country’s elite, and before the Baath Party coup that led to Assad family rule, a Christian, Fares al-Khoury, served as prime minister.

  “The Christians in Syria are the only ones left in the region,” said Bashar Ilias, a theological student and social worker who distributes church donations to people displaced by the fighting. “If they leave, Christianity will lose its roots.”

  Unlike some Christian factions in Lebanon, which claim to be descended from the ancient Phoenicians, Syria’s Christians generally pride themselves on their Arab heritage and see themselves an integral part of the region.

  Most church services are in Arabic; Arabic inscriptions are carved on the marble walls of ornate churches. At St. Kyrillos Church in the Qassaa neighborhood on Friday, a haunting melody seemed to meld with the sweet, waxy smell of votive candles: the song “Ya Habibi,” Mary’s lament for Jesus, beloved throughout the Arab world as a classic in the repertory of the Lebanese diva Fairouz.

  Most Christians interviewed emphasized that Syrian Muslims were largely tolerant, and blamed the influence of Saudi Arabia and foreign fighters for sectarianism.

  But amid the atmosphere of fear, many have begun to speak of the conflict in religious terms.

  “The Christians in Syria are being crucified in Syria for the church,” Mr. Ilias said as he visited an elderly friend, Janette Shaheen, after services.

  “Jesus was oppressed once, but we are being oppressed every day,” added Mrs. Shaheen, who lives near a church that has been shelled several times.

  Mr. Ilias added: “If someone is born a Muslim, I can’t say he’s the devil. His action is an evil action, but he’s human.” But Syrian Muslims, he said, “acknowledge the existence of others.”

  The thud of a distant mortar shell could be felt faintly through the floor. Just a few blocks to the east is Jobar, a rebel-held neighborhood.

  Mrs. Shaheen served coffee to Fouad Anouf, 51, who fled Jobar recently. He and his wife and three small children were the only Christians in their apartment building, but they stayed there for nearly a year after rebels entered the neighborhood.

  The rebels were Syrians, he said, and did not threaten him, even after a new wave of Islamist fighters arrived. They let him cross the battle lines every day to get to work. He left, he said, when his building became a battleground between government tanks and rebel snipers. Now it has been burned, leaving him penniless.

  “Both sides are using the same methods to destroy the country,” he said.

  Christians are far from unanimous on the conflict. Mr. Ilias, the social worker, said Mr. Assad — “May God prolong his life” — was the protector of minorities.

  Yet Mr. Anouf assigned equal blame for the conflict to Russia and Iran, which back the government, and the United States and its allies, which back the opposition. He referred to the fighters not as terrorists, as the government does, but as “the free army,” which he distinguished from “the regular army.”

  Another displaced Christian, Marzouk, said he had fled the suburb of Harasta after Saudi fighters arrived and his Sunni neighbors told him that he was not safe. “The compromise should be crushing those people with the military boot,” he said. “The government should have no mercy upon them.”

  A version of this article appeared in print on March 31, 2013, on page A11 of the New York edition with the headline: Wary Easter Weekend For Christians in Syria.

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