The tragedy of Manushak and the cleric

Arab Times

4 days ago

In the late 1950s, the late Amir Abdullah Al-Salem learned that the British planned to request the allocation of Area G1 as a military base. He immediately ordered the Ministry of Defense to relocate from its original site in Safa Square to Area G1, as it was then known on maps. I was reminded of this while reading a letter from Iraqi-Armenian immigrant Manushak Dikran, who wrote, 'We lived in Iraq in the city of K3, a small station established by the British to oversee the oil pipelines running from the north to the Mediterranean ports via Syria. Its residents were a diverse mix of Iraq's various communities. Omar was friends with Sargon, Ali was close to Ashur, Hussein was inseparable from Minas, Boutros, and Othman.
They all shared games, daily life, studies, and even religious celebrations. The city had two schools, one for girls and one for boys, separated by a single wall. It had only a mosque and a church. No one paid attention to each other's sect or questioned the presence of different faiths.
All religious rituals took place either in the mosque or the church, which was attended by Chaldeans, Assyrians, Armenians, Syriacs, Catholics, and Orthodox alike. Priests from each sect were rarely present, usually only on holidays or very special occasions. Muslim women, dressed in their black abayas, often arrived at the church before others, joining in prayers, weddings, and celebrations. Similarly, Christians would visit shrines to offer sacrifices and vows. Despite the station's nearly 500 houses, everyone shopped at the same bakery, the same grocer, and the same butcher. No one paid attention to the concepts of halal or haram.
There was only one hospital, and if Ahmad needed blood, Minas would donate for Mohammad, Omar for Ali, and so on. We grew up and eventually left the station, whether in search of education, jobs, or to find a spouse. Wherever we went, we carried with us the unique values and morals of K3 that shaped us. It was no surprise that nearly all who emigrated achieved notable financial or professional success. One day, Hormuz, a resident of K3 living abroad in America, decided to create a website to reconnect with his family and friends. With great effort, he succeeded in bringing them back together. He gathered news about nearly everyone, their addresses and thousands of family photos, after almost three decades of separation. This reunion sparked lively and joyous gatherings, celebrations, and weddings attended by people from various countries. At one such event, Hormuz was elected as the station's mukhtar, for life.'
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This is a true story... K3 still exists in Anbar Governorate. However, the situation has changed, as the original inhabitants have since been displaced. My friend and reader Nizar Malak from Canada commented on Manushak's message, saying, 'I was deeply moved by it and am familiar with K3. It is located near the Syrian border, and Kirkuk's oil, originating from northeastern Iraq, passes through it. Armenian billionaire Gulbankian played an instrumental role in facilitating the oil exploration agreement between the Iraqi government and Western oil companies there.' Manushak's story reminded him of his close lifelong friendship with Philip Bidavid. They had been more like brothers for 60 years. Their bond never broken, and neither had ever offended the other. Yet, neither had ever asked about the other's religion. Manushak wondered why such human relationships were now being destroyed. I told him to look for those who benefit, perhaps a dictator or a religious leader.