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Christians determent
not to be driven out of Iraq
By Soraya Sarhaddi Nelson,
Knight Ridder Newspapers
Priest Yohana Ayub
conducts the ceremony for the Holy Cross Day at The Church of
Saint Bahnam Sheik Matti, an Assyrian Orthodox church in Baghdad.
BAGHDAD, Iraq - Gewargis Radif is adamant
that he won't be defeated by insurgents targeting Christians
in Iraq. So on Monday - Holy Cross Day for his Assyrian Orthodox
sect - the retired defense industry worker lit a blue-bulb cross
on his roof, then joined his wife and children on the street
below to launch hand-held fireworks into the night sky.
He ignored the danger, of which there
is plenty. Last month, a bombing outside a neighboring Roman
Catholic seminary killed two family friends and shattered a dozen
windows in his home. On Sunday night, an anonymous man phoned
in a bomb threat to Radif's church a five-minute drive away.
Iraq's Christian minority has lived
in relative peace with Muslim neighbors for centuries. Radif
and many fellow Christians - though not all - are determined
not to be intimidated or driven away by the current violence,
which they're convinced has been launched by foreigners.
The violence sent Radif's Christian
neighbor, wife and three kids packing to Syria. The 60 people
who attended a holiday Mass at St. Bahnam and Sheik Matti Syriac
Orthodox Church on Monday afternoon represented only half the
number who attended the previous year, said Radif, who's a deacon
there.
But Radif, like most Christian Iraqis
in the capital, said Islamic extremists couldn't drive a wedge
between them and their faith or their Muslim neighbors. "This
is not persecution. These are not Iraqis doing this," said
Radif, 55.
Shmael N. Benjamin, a leader of the
Assyrian Democratic Movement, said the attacks were being orchestrated
from outside Iraq in a bid to fracture their society and cause
American efforts in Iraq to fail. The Assyrians are a minority
Christian ethnic group in Iraq.
Iraqi Christians are easy targets because
they don't have a tribal system that exacts revenge like many
of their Arab Muslim counterparts, Benjamin added. They're fiercely
proud of their Iraqi heritage and with rare exceptions during
the country's history have coexisted peacefully with Arabs, Kurds
and other ethnic groups. Jews also lived peaceably in Baghdad
before Israel was created in 1948, after which nearly all of
them gradually emigrated.
The Radif family has spent the last
25 years in al Doura, a blended neighborhood of Christians and
Shiite and Sunni Muslims who live comfortably amid one another's
churches and mosques.
With the U.S.-led invasion and the chaos
that ensued, Islamic extremists who were suddenly free of Saddam
Hussein's grip turned their attention to eradicating Iraqis who
didn't fit their ideal of a majority Muslim country.
Among the first targeted were Christians
who sold alcohol. The government under Saddam gave liquor licenses
only to non-Muslims. Eventually, churches came under attack,
including four in Baghdad that were damaged in car bombings Aug.
1. A fifth church was targeted in Mosul on the same day. The
blasts left 11 dead and scores more wounded.
Later that day, Radif's wife, Hayat,
50, said she ran out with several daughters to treat the injured
who staggered past their door after a car bomb exploded in front
of St. Peter's Seminary 300 yards away. Her husband and a close
friend had been sitting in the living room watching the earlier
church attacks on the Arabic-language TV station al Arabiya when
the windows behind them shattered. Both escaped uninjured. The
blast killed another family friend and his fiancee.
"These are Duraid's and these are
Yousef's pieces scattered everywhere," Hayat Radif wrote
in a poem for the slain couple. "I ask you the saints of
heaven carry these virtuous spirits."
The Radifs say their Muslim neighbors
were as shocked as they were at the attacks and came to express
their condolences. The prime minister's office extended official
apologies and pledged money to repair the damage.
Muslim clerics, including the highest
Shiite spiritual leader in Iraq, Grand Ayatollah Ali al Husseini
al-Sistani, condemned the attacks.
Even now, as church elders in Baghdad
install surveillance cameras, put up barricades around churches
and send scouts to peruse the vicinity for suspicious people
and vehicles before their services, the Christians here are firm
in their desire to keep cordial relations with other Iraqis.
Other Christians have chosen to leave,
with more than 4,000 families registering as refugees in neighboring
Syria, according to U.N. estimates. Hundreds more are returning
to their ancestral villages in northern Iraq, Christian officials
say. Some church officials in Baghdad report that their printing
presses are swamped with baptismal certificates for those leaving
so they can join congregations in their new homes.
Iraq's minister for displacement and
migration, Pascale Warda, said that as many as 750,000 Christian
Iraqis now lived abroad, roughly mirroring the number still in
Iraq. She added that the emigration has been gradual over decades
and dismissed reports of any mass exodus in recent months. So
do Christian political and religious figures. When Christians
leave, it's because of escalating violence affecting all Iraqis,
not violence targeting them, said Assyrian Bishop Gewargis Sliwa.
At his St. George church compound, parishioners
have blacked out spray-painted graffiti on the exterior walls,
although the words "traitors," "America"
and "Long live Iraq" still peek through.
http://www.twincities.com/mld/twincities/news/special_packages/iraq/
9654817.htm?1c
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