Today’s Zaman , Turkey
Aug 30 2009

Arameans search for roots and rights in mardın

Father Malki GümüÅ?soy raises his hand toward the
heavens and starts his supplication in front of the locked iron door
of one of the eight closed churches of Dargeçit, Mardin, a city
in southeastern Anatolia famous for its multi-religious and
multi-ethnic character.

GümüÅ?soy represents one of these colors of
Mardin; he is an Aramean priest. Also known as Syriacs, Arameans speak
a Semitic language that dates back 3,000 years and was used by Jesus
Christ. However, 80-year-old GümüÅ?soy worries
about the young generation of Arameans in Turkey. They face a lack of
teachers and schools in which to teach even basic literacy.

He also worries about Turkey’s Aramean population, which has
diminished sharply due to mass migration — primarily to Europe. In
fact, two of his four children have opted to move to Europe.

The 1970s saw the last Aramean family leave Dargeçit, whose
former name was Kerboran, meaning `grapes’ in Aramaic. Now the
district is predominantly Kurdish and boasts a population of
14,000. It is no longer famous for its grapes, but for heavy clashes
between state security forces and the Kurdistan Workers’ Party (PKK),
which is listed as a terrorist organization by Turkey, the European
Union and the United States.

Security concerns in the region are one of the reasons for the massive
migration, but neither Father GümüÅ?soy nor other
members of the Aramean community are willing to even mention the other
reasons. They prefer to remain silent. The Aramean diaspora, however,
has a different attitude.

Daniel Gabriel, whose parents are from Dargeçit, hails from
Australia. He is a lawyer working for the human rights department of
the Syriac Universal Alliance (SUA), a worldwide umbrella organization
for all Syriac people and organizations. SUA is an NGO in special
consultative status with the United Nations Economic and Social
Council.

`My father is not used to speaking about those days, but he was
harassed several times by Kurds. He was almost killed once, so he took
my mother, and they left for Syria in 1967. From there, they went to
Lebanon and finally to Australia,’ he says.

Gabriel was born there, in the diaspora, like many other Aramean
people whose roots go back to the Mardin region, known as Tur Abdin by
Arameans. Another is Johny Messo, the president of SUA. He is Dutch,
but his parents come from Midyat, another city in the province of
Mardin. The two are on a tour that started in Lebanon and moved to
Syria, where they were received by state officials and the grand
mufti. They invited Sunday’s Zaman to join them for their fact-finding
mission, focusing on the situation of the Aramean people.

Arameans want to be treated in accordance with Lausanne

According to Messo, there are no scientific statistics about their
population, but estimates state that there are 25,000 Arameans in
Ä°stanbul. In Europe they number around half a million, but in
their hometowns in the province of Mardin, there are only 3,500
left. Their Turkish ID cards list Christianity as their religion.

Messo says that unlike the Armenian, Greek and Jewish communities, the
Aramean community was not recognized as a minority group by the 1923
Treaty of Lausanne, the founding document of the Turkish
Republic. `Arameans were not able to enjoy the rights and freedoms
that were given by Lausanne,’ he says, adding that they need to be
designated a minority in order to survive in Turkey.

Since they were not given this status, they were not able to teach in
their own schools. The lack of an official status and its subsequent
consequences were another reason for them to migrate to Europe.

But they have other reasons, too. Meryem Demirel is an Aramean from
Dargeçit who has been living in Sweden for more than 40
years. `When I return to Kerboran for a visit, I burst into tears. I
am unable to recognize the town of my childhood. There is no single
person left whom I know. My hometown is a total stranger to me,’ she
says, adding that hers was one of the first families to leave
Dargeçit.

She says that when she was a child she really wanted to go to school,
but was not allowed to do so. `My parents did not send me to school,
fearing I would be kidnapped. The Kurds harassed us. My two brothers
were able to attend school, but I was not,’ she says.

She works for an Aramean women’s association in Sweden and worries
about the situation of Aramean women in Turkey. `Their situation is
very poor. They are still not well educated. They don’t hold any
jobs. We are thinking about what we can do for them and one of our
ideas is to start computer courses and establish Internet cafes for
them,’ she says.

Demirel is among a number of members of the diaspora who increased the
frequency of visits to their hometowns since the security situation in
the region improved.

But when those like her returned, they recognized not only their
hometowns, but also their land and farms. Some of them had already
fallen into use by surrounding villages, resulting in legal disputes.

Holidays celebrated together

Despite all these problems, the Arameans are not totally unhappy. In
some cases, life for them is getting better. Take, for example, the
residents of the village of Karagöl.

The village was evacuated by security forces in 1995 but is now being
reconstructed. Two families, including some members were part of the
diaspora, have returned to the village after being given permission by
the state to do so in 2001. They are renovating its ancient church,
which dates back to the fifth century and are excited about the
pregnancy of Ruhat Ergün, who was born in Germany, is a German
citizen, was educated there, but has decided to live in the village.

`We will not give up our home here,’ says Hazni Ergün, Ruhat
Ergün’s husband. He has to send his children to a boarding
school in the nearby Aramean village of Anıtlı, where
the Virgin Mary Monastery is located.

Relations with neighbors are not always problematic and do not always
involve lawsuits and courts. In and around Mardin, Arameans and their
Muslim neighbors invite each other to traditional iftars
(fast-breaking dinners) during Ramadan, the Muslim month of fasting.

`We celebrate religious holidays together. Our village has since its
establishment been a mixed village, and we always have good relations
with our neighbors,’ says Numan Ä°Å?leyen. His wife,
Fehime, adds that women always cooperate in village work. The village
goes by the name of AltıntaÅ?, and it is here that
GümüÅ?soy serves as a priest.

When he finished praying in front of the locked door of the church in
Dargeçit, an old Kurdish man approached him. He said his name
was Abdullah Seyid and that he was 73 years old. He also said he was
very happy to see Arameans in Kerboran again — intentionally using
Dargeçit’s Aramean name. He then turned to Father
GümüÅ?soy and said: `The Arameans were sent away;
they were persecuted; it was very brutal. We later came to understand
that the important thing is being a human being. It is not important
who you are, but it is important to be a member of humanity.’

Monastery and villages face court cases
Several Aramean villages and the Mor Gabriel Monastery are facing
court cases over land disputes either with neighboring villages or
with the state, and sometimes with both.

Nail Demirel, who lives in Australia with his five children but spends
his vacations at the Dayro Daslibo Monastery, says there is an ongoing
dispute with neighbors and the case has made it to court.

Demirel says the monastery was once the home of more than 300 priests
and more than 5,000 books but was a scene of a massacre carried out by
neighboring villagers, which left 77 Arameans dead in 1914. He pointed
to a wall and claimed that the bodies were buried behind the wall
inside the monastery, which looks like a castle.

`They came here 80 years ago from the upper village and settled here
on our land. With time, they captured our land and now claim to own it
even though we have the title deeds and have been paying taxes on the
land. We tried to negotiate with them; we are six families and they
are more, so we offered them half of our land, but they wanted
more. Now we are all in court,’ he says.

Their case is not the only land dispute between Arameans and
surrounding villages, but sometimes the state is involved. The village
of Alagöz is facing just such a case. Only a few families are
left in this village, so few that there are only 13 students who
attend the small school it is home to. Most families from here have
long moved to Europe, though some have recently built new homes
here. Alagöz’s court cases deal with land registry and forest
regulations.

As part of the EU accession process, Turkey set up cadastre offices
for almost half of the country in less than five years. Remote areas
and places where records were not kept well expectedly became the site
of many land disputes. Additionally, new laws called for the transfer
of uncultivated land to the Treasury and in some cases labeled such
land a forested zone. Once this became the case, it became difficult
for former owners to use from the land.

The situation has become complex, with both villages and the Mor
Gabriel Monastery, the oldest active Christian monastery in the world,
facing similar court cases. The monastery won a case against
surrounding villages, but lost another to the regional forestry
directorate. Both verdicts have been appealed, and the other two cases
await rulings from the local court.

The lawsuits against the Mor Gabriel Monastery have turned into a
Muslim-Christian dispute since the surrounding villages claim the
monastery is involved in missionary work and acting against the
security of the state. The Arameans think villagers in those villages
were manipulated by circles trying to completely destroy their
community.

`The court cases against the monastery were a wake-up call for the
community. We decided to cooperate to resolve our problems,’ SUA’s
Messo says.

30 August 2009, Sunday
AYÅ?E KARABAT MARDÄ°N / MÄ°DYAT