On September 22, dozens of Christian worshipers were
killed at a church in Pakistan. Many more were wounded. The assailants
were jihadist suicide bombers. This was not the first attack on the
small Christian community in Pakistan.
In Egypt, repeated deadly assaults have targeted Coptic
Christian churches. Some members of this ancient faith group, convinced
they have no future in the Arab world's most populous nation, have
emigrated.
In Iraq, the Chaldean Christian population has dwindled
in recent years. Persecution at the hands of Islamist groups has been a
key factor driving people out.
In Nigeria, periodic attacks by radical Muslim groups
on Christian worshipers and their churches have brought widespread death
and destruction.
In Turkey, the Greek Orthodox Ecumenical Patriarchate has had to face one bureaucratic roadblock after another.
In Turkish-occupied northern Cyprus, many Greek
Orthodox churches have been destroyed or otherwise desecrated since the
Turkish army first invaded in 1974.
And in Sudan, until the break-up of the country in 2011
that brought the nation of South Sudan into existence, millions of
Christians in the south were targeted by the Muslim north, resulting in
an unimaginably high death toll.
This is an incomplete list, but it should be more than
enough to alarm the world, and especially, I would have thought, the
Christian world. But, alas, with a few notable exceptions, there has
been silence.
As a Jew, I find this silence unfathomable.
We Jews know quite well that the sin of silence is not a solution to acts of oppression.
And that applies not only to the obvious example of the
Holocaust, but also to the postwar plight of Jews in several
Muslim-majority countries.
There were once nearly a million Jews in these lands, but today there are fewer than 50,000.
Jewish communities from Iraq to Libya, from Egypt to
Yemen, were driven out, while those in Turkey and Iran are but a shadow
of their former selves.
As this was taking place, the world was largely indifferent.
The UN never met in emergency session. The media barely
devoted any attention. Diplomats in Brussels and elsewhere hardly gave
it a second thought. And, by the way, the churches were not heard from,
either.
As the surviving Jews left North Africa and the Muslim
Middle East, the world averted its eyes. But now the Jews aren't
available for their "convenient" role as scapegoats, so the dubious
honor falls to the Christians (and, in Iran, to the Baha'i). Could it be
possible that the world once again remains asleep in the face of
murderous attacks, widespread fear, and declining numbers?
I asked a well-placed Christian prelate why the muted
reaction, why the failure to take to the streets, demand action of
Western governments, and demonstrate solidarity with co-religionists.
His answer was revealing.
He said that targeted Christian communities might face
still more danger if voices are raised. But what has been achieved by
yielding to intimidation, except for still more attacks?
He also noted that some Christians in the West didn't
identify with Christians of different sects, such as Copts, Chaldeans,
or Greek Orthodox. But this is hardly a justification. Is righteous
anger only to be unleashed if "membership criteria" are met?
And third, he felt the most important thing Western
societies could to was to set an example for the Islamic world by
treating minority communities, particularly Muslims, well.
Yes, it is to the credit of democratic nations that
they judge themselves by how they respect minorities. When we fall
short, we know we must improve.
But, as former French President Nicolas Sarkozy said
after meeting a delegation of Arab ambassadors who complained about the
treatment of Muslims in France, France must do better, but France also
expects "reciprocity."
In other words, it is the height of hypocrisy for Arab
leaders to criticize Western countries for perceived injustices, while
perpetrating those very injustices – and more – in their own lands. If a
mosque can be built in Paris, surely a church should not be banned in
Riyadh.
How many more attacks like the one in Pakistan, how
many more dead worshipers, how many more destroyed churches, and how
many more families need to flee before the world finds its voice,
summons its moral outrage, demands more than fleeting statements of
anguish by officials, and stands with those Christian communities in
danger?
David Harris is the executive director of the American Jewish Committee (www.ajc.org).
