A Dark Christmas in Iraq

Nestled off a bustling shopping avenue in central Baghdad, Babylon Farms offers all the retail trappings of Christmas.

Baskets brim with glitter-dusted ornaments. A 4-foot Santa Claus doll towers over the cash register. Rows of decorated trees and red plastic poinsettias line the shop.

The only thing missing? Customers.

“All the Christians have left the country,” said store manager Saif Sadi, adding that sales this season were down 75%.

After a painful year of church bombings, death threats and assassinations, Iraq’s 800,000 Christians have all but canceled Christmas.

“Officially, we are not celebrating this year,” said Father Peter Haddad, who is in charge of the Virgin Mary Church in Baghdad.

Fearing insurgent attacks, bishops across the predominantly Muslim country recently announced that they would call off the usual Christmas festivals and celebrations. Some churches will also forgo Christmas Eve Mass, a step unheard of even during Saddam Hussein’s regime.

Attendance has plummeted. During the holiday season, Haddad’s church would have been packed with more than 700 people. Last Sunday, only 27 brave worshipers showed up.

Christians have lived in Iraq for hundreds of years, enjoying peaceful relations with Muslims for most of that time. But after the U.S.-led invasion in March 2003, insurgents began targeting the community, accusing Christians of cooperating with American “infidels” by working as interpreters, house cleaners and merchants. Harassment by Islamists became so bad that many Christian women took to wearing head scarves to blend in.

“We are the agents of no one, and we don’t accept being linked to the occupiers because of our religion,” Kirkuk Archbishop Luis Saco recently told parishioners as he announced the cancellation of Christmas celebrations in the northern city. “Blowing up our churches and frightening our sons will not solve the problems of Iraq.”

Christian leaders estimate that as many as 50,000 Christians have fled Iraq since last year, mostly to Jordan and Syria.

Christians say the attacks -- including the coordinated bombings of five churches in August and drive-by shootings of Christian liquor store owners -- have spoiled what is typically the most joyous time of year for their community.

In the past, George Goryal, 50, a father of four, celebrated Christmas by taking the family on a picnic. This year, the Goryals are staying indoors.

The family hopes to attend Christmas Eve Mass, but Goryal is so worried about attacks that he’s developed a strategy to reduce the risks.

“We will go to the church only two at a time,” he said. “When the first two come back, then two more can go. It’s safer this way.”

Some churches have resorted to hiring armed guards. At the Syrian Catholic Church of the Lady of Salvation, young men with Kalashnikov rifles and 9-millimeter pistols stood guard during a recent funeral for a parishioner who had been shot dead on his way to work as a bartender at a Baghdad social club.

Other church leaders said they would rather cancel events than use metal detectors, conduct body searches or seek help from U.S. troops during the Christmas holiday.

“Christian families are going to suffice with celebrating with friends and relatives at their houses,” said Sameer Khoori, vice chairman of the Hindiya Social Club for Christians.

Traditionally, Christians in Iraq mark the holiday with lavish parties at restaurants, outings to amusement parks and large family gatherings. As in the U.S., families decorate homes with lights and pine wreaths.

But Christians say there’s little point in hanging Christmas lights when electricity outages in recent weeks have provided them with just four hours of power a day. Gasoline shortages have cut into plans to visit relatives in other cities.

Despite the problems, many Iraqis said they were determined to keep a Christmas spirit.

“Our beliefs will never fade,” said Hazim Jameel, 47, a taxi driver who was buying a Christmas tree on his day off. “It’s vital that people live their normal lives.”

His wife, Fadia Issa, 31, said the family would still prepare a traditional Christmas dinner and give gifts to their three young children. “It’s important for the children,” she said.

The George family, which was also out buying a Christmas tree, plans to skip services this year and improvise the usual traditions. Rather than taking the children to see Santa Claus at the local social club, an older brother will dress up and play the part at home, said Faruq George, a Baghdad merchant.

Nouri Dawood, 75, has been selling Christmas trees from his nearby farm for most of his life. He haggles with customers over the price -- typically about $3 a tree -- and collects money with rough, sap-stained hands.

Business this year is down, but he’s not worried yet. “Sales always pick up after Dec. 20,” he said. “That’s when the rush starts.”

Haddad, who will keep his church open for Christmas services, said the hard times would encourage Christians to reflect on the religious significance of the holiday, rather than focus on gifts and parties. His Christmas Eve sermon -- for those who show up to hear it -- will draw parallels between the U.S. occupation of Iraq and the Roman occupation of Jerusalem during the time of Jesus Christ, a message he said he hoped would inspire worshipers.

“There are very bad days,” he said, “but they will pass.”