In recent days news agencies published the story about the death of
the last remaining Christian in the city of Homs, a city that has
undergone a religious “clean up” by Islamic rebels.
Elias Mansour, 84, a
Greek Orthodox Christian, had not wanted to abandon his house in Via
Wadi Sayeh because he had to look after his handicapped son.
The
neighbourhood in which he lived was the scene of violent clashes. An
Orthodox priest is looking for his son, whose whereabouts are unknown.
This is just one of many examples of lives torn apart by this
“faceless” war, as some have defined it. The extent of the horror
experienced in this war is illustrated by the story of one small
Christian family which fled to France: Fadi, Myrian and Theresa (all
ficticious names).
They managed to flee the country and are waiting for
their refugee status to be recognised.
The French branch of “Aid to the
Church in Need” told their story. Fadi and his family were living in
Bad Tuma (St. Thomas Door) in Damascus, the main Christian neighbourhood
in the capital. Bad Tuma is protected by regular army soldiers but
despite this, life is becoming unbearable.
“People start queuing outside
the bakery at 6 in the morning – they say. Once we went for three whole
days without bread.”
Some schools are still open, but parents prefer to keep their
children at home for fear of bombings. “In September, a friend of mine
went to enrol her daughter in a school in Jaraman, a nearby
neighbourhood. A car bomb went off near them and killed them both.”
Islamic rebels are doing all that they can to bring civilian life to a
standstill. Fadi said: “Opponents tell schools to close. They want to
put an end to normal life. The army is telling people to continue living
their life as normal, claiming they are there to protect them.
Civilians are caught in the middle and they must obey both if they want
to stay alive.”
Another person recounts the following terrible story: “My aunt was a
teacher in Homs. She told her pupils to carry on attending school. She
wanted life to go on as normal, no matter what. Her husband found her
with her throat slit. On the wall, the following message had been
written in her blood: “Allah Akbar”.
At the end of mass, the priest advises faithful in Bad Tuma to leave
quietly, in small groups. Groups of more than four people have to split
up. “Christians feel they are being targeted.
On one church wall they
wrote: “Christians, it’s your turn”. At the beginning, one of the
slogans being shouted out was: 'the Alawites to the graves and the
Christians to Beirut”. Now it is: “Alawites and Christians to the
cemeteries”.”
In answer to a question about the forces in the field, Fadi’s
response was: “many people still support Bashar al-Assad, even though
everyone knows what he is capable of. Otherwise he would have fallen
long ago. The opposition has become too violent. One day, a Maronite
priest who was a known opponent of the regime, went on TV and called for
a speeding up of reforms.”
He received death threats from the opposition for not being tough
enough. The opposition is very heterogeneous; it is not united; it gives
out contradictory messages. It is not easy to see through it. Some say
it is only 10% Syrian and that the rest are foreigners, mercenaries and
jihadists.”
Fear is everywhere. Theresa, their little girl could hear the
gunshots: Fadi and Myriam told her it was a wedding celebration. But one
day she said: “This celebration’s scaring me.” And in the end she knew.
Then the kidnappings started: Qatar, which helps Syria’s jihadists by
giving them arms and money, has reduced its assistance and now rebels
are kidnapping Christians, Alawites and Druzes and asking for ransom
money.
“Everything is in pieces. All that remains is faith. As is true
for the Christians that remain in Syria. We can only hope in God.”