By Lennox Samuels
In recent days, attacks against Christians in Mosul have forced
thousands of the faithful to flee the northern Iraqi city, in an
episode that has been condemned by everyone from Prime Minister Nuri
al-Maliki to Coalition authorities to Pope Benedict XVI. But there’s
little agreement about exactly what’s going on or what’s been driving
the violence. Depending on who you talk to, the killings constitute a
wave of terrorism designed to run off members of the religion, a
last-gasp campaign by Al Qaeda in Iraq, or overstatement by Iraqi
media.
To begin with, the number of fatalities is hard to pin down. Some
Christian leaders say at least 20 people have been killed. U.S. and
Iraqi officials say that’s inflated. “We have confirmed eight Christian
killings since the end of September,” including one where the suspect
also was Christian, says Major Gen. Mark Hertling, U.S. military
commander in northern Iraq. Christian-community leaders who met
recently in Mosul with Iraqi Deputy Prime Minister Rafi Hiyad
al-Issawi, Nineweh governor Duraid Kashmula and other officials to
demand redress, put the number at 12. “They were mostly killed after
someone asked them for their identification and then learned they were
Christian,” Emanuel Khoshaba Youkhana, deputy secretary-general of the
Assyrian Patriotic Party, tells NEWSWEEK.
Whatever the real number of Christians who have died in recent attacks,
there’s no question that thousands of them have fled Mosul. United
Nations estimates indicate at least 12,000 have been displaced. The
Assyrian Patriotic Party says 2,351 families have left Mosul for Iraqi
cities like Kirkuk, Erbil and Dohuk as well as Lebanon and Syria, where
several hundred are living in refugee camps. The displacement follows a
ratcheting up of threats against Christians, whose presence in Iraq
dates to the 1st century A.D. The Christians, mostly of the Chaldean or Eastern Rite tradition, have for the most part lived quietly among
Muslims in the country, with intermittent periods of persecution. Now
they are afraid to remain in Mosul, spooked by the killings, threats
and rumors of religious cleansing.
It is not certain who is behind the current attacks. As Iraq slid into
war and insurgency after 2003, some Islamists targeted Christians,
branding them infidels and allies of America. Christians received
threats from extremist groups like the Islamic State of Iraq even
before the latest violence erupted in late September. The group is
synonymous with Al Qaeda in Iraq, which has retreated to Mosul, Iraq’s
third-largest city, as U.S. and Iraqi forces drove the network from the
rest of the country. Maj. Gen. Hertling says some seized documents show
insurgents lauding the attacks as a success “because it was causing
confusion among the people of Mosul.” The moves against Christians come
as tensions in Mosul are rising again, with the Maliki government trying to reduce the influence of the Kurds and
Sunni tribal leaders vowing to fight to keep the city in Arab hands.
Iraqi military brass insist the city is safer than reports suggest and
claim that the attacks are less about going after a religious
denomination and more about keeping the city off-balance by stirring
fear and division among its residents. “Mosul has become totally secure
but the truth is not being delivered,” says Lt. Gen. Riyadh Jalal
Tawfiq, Iraqi military commander in Nineveh governorate, who likes to
admonish the press to write less divisive stories. “In Anbar [province]
you had good Sunnis [in the Awakening] fighting against bad Sunnis.
Here you have bad Sunnis who are trying to drive a wedge between every
group of people.” He says a special committee is investigating the
attacks.
The central government in Baghdad is exhorting Christians who
fled to return to their homes. At his meeting in Mosul, Deputy Prime
Minister Issawi called the attacks “terrorists acts” and pledged to
compensate Christians for their losses. Flush with cash, Baghdad is
offering about $900 to every family that comes back. At the same
meeting, the Christians delivered additional demands, including better
security, greater development at the government’s expense and that the
12 slain Christians be treated “just like any other Iraqi martyrs.”
Riyadh offers to take anyone on a tour of the city to show how secure
it is, but both he and Hertling concede that conditions are unlikely to
truly change unless the city’s infrastructure and severe unemployment
problems are addressed. Emanuel, the Assyrian politician, says some
families have returned but “given the lack of trust, I don’t think most
will.” With suspicion so deep, it will take more than money and
promises to woo back the city’s Christian minority.