‘The Future of Religious Minorities in the Middle East’: a book review

The Future of Religious Minorities in the Middle East

John Eibner (ed), Lanham, Maryland: Lexington Books, 2018, pp 276. ISBN 978-14985-6196-9

A new report commissioned by the British Foreign Secretary, Jeremy Hunt, shows that the persecution of Christians is pervasive in parts of the Middle East, sometimes amounting to genocide, and has prompted an exodus in the past two decades. Millions of Christians have been uprooted from their homes throughout the Middle East, and many have been killed, kidnapped, imprisoned and discriminated against. The report also highlights discrimination across south-east Asia, sub-Saharan Africa and in east Asia – often driven by state authoritarianism.

The interim report is based on work by Bishop Philip Mounstephen of Truro, makes for sobering reading. It says ‘the inconvenient truth’ is ‘the overwhelming majority (80%) of persecuted religious believers are Christians.’

The Christian population in the Middle East and North Africa stood at 20% a century ago. In recent years, this proportion has fallen to less than 4%, or roughly 15 million people. In countries such as Algeria, Egypt, Iran, Iraq, Syria and Saudi Arabia the situation of Christians and other minorities has reached an alarming stage, according to the report. The Arab-Israeli conflict has caused the majority of Palestinian Christians to leave their homeland, so that the population of Palestinian Christians has dropped from 15% to 2%.

For people reflecting on reports such as this, it is all the more disturbing that the persecuted and persecutor all share religious belief-systems that not only share so much in common but all three major monotheistic religions originated in the fertile crescent of the Middle East.

What is the future for religious minorities in the Middle East?

Do they have a future?

These are questions that have been asked in Constantinople and throughout the Middle East since the seventh century. But perhaps, as Taner Akçam of Clark University points out, modern ‘ethnic cleansing’ can be traced to the genocide of Armenians in 1915, the collapse of the Ottoman Empire, and the forced ‘population exchanges’ between Greece and Turkey in the 1920s.

These questions are asked yet again in a fresh way in a new book edited by John Eibner, a Swiss-American historian who is runs the Middle East programmes of the human rights organisation Christian Solidarity International (CSI). He has brought together essays by 20 scholars, journalists, human rights activists and political practitioners who spoke in Switzerland and the US on the topic. Now they have been published together in book form.

The contributors are from diverse political, cultural, and religious backgrounds. Each draws a deep wellspring of scholarship and experience as they seek to understand the threat to religious minorities and social pluralism. The one Irish contributor is the journalist Patrick Cockburn; the one Anglican is Bishop Michael Nazir-Ali.

The future of religious minorities in the Middle East is an issue for more than Christians and Muslims. Jewish communities have all but vanished apart from within Israel. Groups such as the Alawites, the Yezidis, Druze, Kakais and Mandaeans, like Christians, struggle for survival.

In recent years, the West has focused on the threats posed by jihadist terrorism. But the delicate fabric of inter-communal relations in the Middle East has been unravelling for the past century, at the expense of religious and ethnic minorities.

As early as 2011, CSI was warning of a genocide against religious minorities and called for action. The warning followed similarly dramatic appeals by then president of France, Nicholas Sarkozy, and the former president of Lebanon, Amine Gemayel, one of the contributors to this collection. At the time, the warning was scarcely heeded. Yet, since then, the so-called Islamic State (ISIS) carried out a systemic genocide, targeting Christians, Yazidis, and Shi'ite Muslims

During a recent visit to Tangier, when I visited churches and synagogues in the Moroccan port city, I tried to convince myself that there is still hope in the Middle East and North Africa. In these papers, some of the contributors still express hope for the future, but others view the situation more pessimistically. As John Eibner writes, there are few ‘silver linings around the dark clouds … the future is grim indeed.’

Patrick Comerford
Askeaton

This book review is published in the current edition of ‘Search: A Church of Ireland Journal’ (Vol 42.2, Summer 2019), pp 151-152.

This biographical note is included on p 155:

Patrick Comerford is priest-in-charge of Rathkeale and Kilnaughtin (Diocese of Limerick & Killaloe), Precentor of Limerick and Killaloe cathedrals, and a former Foreign Desk Editor of The Irish Times.

Praying in Lent 2017 with USPG, (5) Thursday 2 March 2017

Among those who have fled to Greece are several thousand Yazidi Iraqis, a persecuted minority in their home country. Layla and her three children are a Yazidi family living in Ritsona camp (Photograph: USPG/Max McClellan)

Patrick Comerford

Today we are well and truly into the season of Lent (2 March 2017). Last night, I presided at the Eucharist in Saint Mary’s Church, Askeaton, Co Limerick, marking the beginning of our pilgrimage through Lent to Easter,.

The Lent 2017 edition of the prayer diary of the Anglican mission agency USPG (United Society Partners in the Gospel) follows the theme of the USPG Lent study course, ‘Living an Authentic Life.’

I am using this Prayer Diary for my prayers and reflections each morning this week and throughout Lent. Why not join me in these prayers and reflections, for just a few moments each morning?

In the articles and prayers in the prayer diary, USPG invites us to investigate what it means to be a disciple of Christ. The Lent study course, ‘Living an Authentic Life’ (available online or to order at www.uspg.org.uk/lent), explores the idea that discipleship and authenticity are connected.

This week, from Sunday (26 February) to Saturday (4 March), the USPG Lent Prayer Diary follows the topic ‘We are called to be Disciples.’

Thursday, 2 March 2017:

Pray that the church worldwide might seek to follow Jesus’ example by accepting and welcoming all people without exception.

Continued tomorrow

Yesterday’s reflection and prayer

‘The hopes and fears of all the years are met in thee tonight’

A Tuscan scene in Wallace’s Taverna … a scene that would not be strange to refugees in the Middle East (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2014)

Patrick Comerford

Before the carol service in Marlay Park ended last night, one of the priests from Ballinteer Parish asked us to remember Christians in many parts of the Middle East who would not be free to gather in public to sing carols this Christmas or the celebrate Christmas.

It was an appropriate reminder at an appropriate time that the Christmas story is not a comfortable story: it is the story of a migrant family in the bleak mid-winter, it is the story of a homeless family refused a room on the streets of a once-royal city, it continues with the story of mass murder by a tyrannical despot who feels insecure after a visit by foreigners and strangers, and it moves on to the story of a refugee family seeking asylum after crossing the desert and one of the great rivers of the Middle East.

These are all themes in today’s Middle East, and they came up in wandering conversations over lunch this afternoon in Wallace’s Taverna in the Italian Quarter in Dublin this afternoon.

Earlier, in the morning, I had been the sub-deacon at the Eucharist in Christ Church Cathedral, Dublin, assisting at the celebration and at the administration of the Holy Communion. As we prepared to leave the chancel and the organist began to play the recessional voluntary, the lights went out throughout the cathedral, the alarms sounded, and we left in silence.

There was no fire, but roadworks or utility works outside had cut the power supply to the cathedral, and you could say, I suppose, that a people who had seen great lights walked out in darkness.

Waiting for Christmas ... in Christ Church Cathedral before the Eucharist on the Fourth Sunday of Advent (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2014)

Later, four of us met in Walace’s Taverna for lunch, and a family member recounted stories from his visits to Beirut, the Beeka Valley and Syrian refugee camps in Lebanon, and Antakya in southern Turkey and places east along the borders with Syria and Iraq.

The photographs from were amazing. They are not mine to show, but they included a large domed mosque in Beirut, lit up with stars and an impressive, tall Christmas Tree; Armenian and Maronite churches; a Druze khalwat, vineyards and cultivated terraces in the Bekaa Valley; and signs for some of the best Lebanese vineyards, including Chateau Musar, Clos Saint Thomas and Cave Kouroum.

There were photographs too of Syrian refugee camps, and Syrian children in makeshift schools.

And we discussed the distressing plight of the Yazidi refugees, all but forgotten after intense media attention a few months ago.

The photographs of the mosque with Christmas decorations – including two reindeer – and the mixture of religious traditions led to a discussion of the delicate balance in Lebanon which was once a multi-confessional state, how the protection of religious and ethnic minorities has been lost in Syria, and how it is not just Christians but people from many other faiths, including the Druze and Yazidi people, and many Muslims of different schools, are not free to gather and worship in the way they would like.

Those Syrian children looked as though could have been children in any school in Greece or Italy.

We were seated at a table by a window, looking out onto the Quays and the bridges over the River Liffey. Behind our table, a mural depicted a typical scene in Tuscany, with vineyards, cultivated terraces, bridges and a romantic Tuscan town in the distance.

It was a scene that those refugee children from Syria in schools and camps in Lebanon and Turkey could have identified with only a short time ago. I am sure tranquil scenes like this were once the norm in many parts of Lebanon, Syria and Turkey.

Christmas should be a time of peace for all – for children especially, and not just for Christians alone:

O little town of Bethlehem,
how still we see thee lie!
Above thy deep and dreamless sleep
the silent stars go by;
yet in thy dark streets shineth
the everlasting Light;
the hopes and fears of all the years
are met in thee tonight.

O morning stars, together
proclaim the holy birth,
and praises sing to God the King,
and peace to all on earth.
For Christ is born of Mary;
and gathered, all above,
while mortals sleep, the angels keep
their watch of wondering love.

How silently, how silently,
the wondrous gift is given!
So God imparts to human hearts
the blessings of his heaven.
No ear may hear his coming,
but in this world of sin,
where meek souls will receive him, still
the dear Christ enters in.

O holy Child of Bethlehem,
descend to us, we pray;
cast out our sin, and enter in;
be born to us today.
We hear the Christmas angels
the great glad tidings tell;
O come to us, abide with us,
our Lord, Emmanuel.

A toy dog is not just for Christmas? … a trader’s stall in Henry Street this afternoon (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2014)

Later, we went strolling through the streets behind Ormond Quay and Bachelor’s Walk to see the bustle of last-minute Christmas shopping in Henry Street and Mary Street.

There were no “last of the Cheeky Charlies” to get, and the latest must-have to buy as a last-minute bargain seems to be a selfie stick allowing you to take “selfies” with ample panoramic background.

I also took a detour into the “Church” – the former Saint Mary’s Church of Ireland parish church which has been turned into a café and bar. But that’s a story for another day.

Behind the Church, there was a funfair in Wolfe Tone Street, and few trees were lit up in bright lights – but they came nowhere near the delightful sight of Christmas trees and reindeer on that mosque in Beirut.

Christmas lights on the trees in Wolfe Tone Square behind the former Saint Mary’s Church in Mary Street (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2014)

Ancient religion of Yazidis wrongly seen as Satanic

The Irish Times carries the following half-page feature this morning [13 August 2014] on the Opinion & Analysis page, page 12:

Ancient religion of Yazidis
wrongly seen as Satanic

Patrick Comerford

Opinion


Living in a remote part of Iraq,
the Yazidi minority holds
misunderstood beliefs
that fuel persecution


A large number of Iraq’s tiny Yazidi minority remains isolated on a remote mountain top, fearing the self-styled “Islamic State” and hoping to be rescued by their Kurdish neighbours. Their plight brings attention to one of the most misunderstood religious minorities in the Middle East.

Although Yazidis are often regarded as Kurds, they form a religious and ethnic minority with unique beliefs and practices misunderstood by their neighbours, leading to their persecution and demonisation as “devil-worshippers”.

There are about 600,000 Yazidis worldwide, but the vast majority – perhaps 400,000 to 500,000 – live mainly in northern Iraq, their home for almost 1,000 years.

For centuries, their neighbours have treated the Yazidis as delinquent Arabs or schismatic Muslims. Some say they are descended from Yazid bin Muawiyah (647-683), the second of the Umayyad dynasty of Islamic caliphs, and others say the name Yazidi comes from the Old Iranian yazata (“divine being”). But Yazidis believe their name comes from the word Yezdan or Ezid, meaning “God,” and simply means “worshippers of God”.

Others say Daasin, the name Yazidis use for themselves, is derived from the name of a diocese in the Nestorian Church, the ancient Church of the Assyrians in the Mesopotamian region.

The complex, secret beliefs of Yazidis, their legends and their social structures, including their caste system, set them apart from other religions in the region.

The Yazidi holy books were said to be the Kitêba Cilwe (Book of Revelation) and the Mishefa Res (“Black Book”). But many scholars now believe the manuscripts published a century ago were forgeries by non-Yazidis. The core religious texts today are hymns or qawls, transmitted orally and laden with cryptic allusions difficult for outsiders to interpret.

The Yazidis’ syncretic religion has a rich oral tradition mixing Islamic mysticism with the dualism of Zoroastrianism, the ancient Persian religion, elements of early, pre-Islamic religions, including Mithraism, a mystery religion originating in the eastern Mediterranean, and some Christian practices.

In the Yazidi calendar, this is the year 6764. But the origins of the religion are found in the complex, syncretic teachings of their founder, Sheikh Adi ibn Musafir, a Sufi mystic who claimed descent from the Umayyad dynasty and who was proclaimed an incarnation of Malak Tawous, the principal figure in Yazidi cosmology. Sheikh Adi settled in the valley of Lalis, northeast of Mosul, and after his death in 1162 his tomb became the focus of pilgrimage.

Good and evil

The persistent prejudice that Yazidis worship Satan is founded on a misunderstanding of Yazidi beliefs. They are monotheists who believe God created the universe and rules the world through seven holy beings or angels formed from God’s divine light. The leader of these angels, Malak Tawous (the “Peacock Angel”) embodies humanity’s potential for both good and evil, light and dark.

They say Malak Tawous is the only angel who refused to bow down to Adam at his creation. He fell from God’s favour, but when he saw the suffering and pain of the world, his tears of remorse put out the fires of hell. Recognising his obstinacy as a sign of devotion, God then elevated Malak Tawous as the Peacock Angel to head the angels and to serve as the intermediary between God and humanity.

In early Christianity, the peacock symbolised the Resurrection and immortality because it was believed its flesh does not decay. But another name for Malak Tawous is Shaytan, the name in the Koran for Satan. Yet Yazidis are forbidden to speak the name Shaytan, and hold that the source of evil is in human hearts.

“Yazidis are monotheists who believe God created the universe and rules the world through seven heavenly bodies or angels formed from God’s divine light”

Yazidis believe they are descended from Adam alone through his son Shehid bin Jer, born without Eve as his mother. Every Yazidi is born into either a priestly or lay family and inter-marriage between the castes is prohibited. The priestly families form two groups – the sheikhs who preside at major religious festivals and the pirs who officiate at births, marriages and funerals. But this caste system is about religious duties rather than privilege or wealth.

Yazidis traditionally believe in the reincarnation or the transmigration of souls, which they liken to changing clothes so that the soul can attain spiritual purification. But, like the neighbouring Alawis and Druze, it is not possible for outsiders to convert to Yazidism – one must be born a Yazidi.

Yazidis pray five times daily, at dawn, sunrise, noon, afternoon and sunset, although most observe only the sunrise and sunset prayers. When they pray, they turn towards the sun, and at noon they pray facing Lalis and the tomb of Sheikh Adi. But daily prayer must not be said in the presence of outsiders.

Children are baptised at birth by a priest, circumcision is often practised, and a form of Communion with blessed bread is shared at weddings. The practice of burying the dead with their hands crossed may be derived from Sufi Islam rather than Christianity.

Elemental worship

Wednesday is the holy day, Saturday is the day of rest, there is a three-day fast in December, and the Yazidi new year falls in spring. The great festival is the seven-day Feast of the Assembly in September in Lalis, with pilgrimages to the shrine of Sheikh Adi and the sacrifice of an ox marking autumn. There are taboos surrounding the four revered elements of earth, air, fire and water.

Accusations of devil worship first surfaced among Muslims in the late 16th and early 17th centuries, and Yazidis became so despised a hymn recalls 72 attempts by their neighbours in the last three centuries to exterminate them. Today, Yazidi leaders fear they are facing their 73rd massacre. “Our entire religion is being wiped off the face of the Earth,” says Vian Dakhil, a Yazidi MP in Baghdad for the Kurdish Democratic Party.

The Rev Prof Patrick Comerford is a lecturer at the Church of Ireland Theological Institute and a canon of Christ Church Cathedral, Dublin. He is a former foreign desk editor of The Irish Times. patrickcomerford.com