Is the invasion of Gaza a genocide? It’s probably the most unhelpful framing possible as Westerners descend into an infinite spiral of semantic sophistry as civilians die and huddle in refugee camps. Genocide is such an extreme term that it efficiently snaps shuts the hearts and minds on both side of the sterile public “debate” with its grimly familiar boundaries. Critics of Israel see no need to consider the security interests of a “genocidal apartheid state”, whilst defenders of Israel won’t bother engaging, and will in turn claim to be the targets of genocidal violence in October 7th, and in the ambitions of openly anti-semitic actors like Iran, Hezbollah and Hamas.
Whatever the relative arguments for what does and does not constitute ethnic cleansing, and at what point displacement becomes genocide, there is no realistic prospect of either Palestine nor Israel facing annihilation. Both sides enjoy worldwide support and attract global attention and scrutiny.
Yet would it surprise you to learn that there was another small Middle Eastern nation whose lands had been occupied, and to this day face bombing, invasion and the fear of annexation? Whose culture and history is erased? Who have, unambiguously been the victims of a genocide?
800 miles north of Israel and Palestine, the wind blows through the empty ruins of Ani, once the capital of an Armenian kingdom that stretched from the Euphrates to the Araxes. Abandoned after the Mongol invasion, it once stood in the heart of Armenia. Everywhere in what is now Eastern Turkey, you can find such inexplicably marooned cultural and civilisational treasures. Mount Aratat, the holy mountain that according to Armenian tradition is where Noah first landed after the flood, and overlooks Armenia’s modern day capital of Yerevan, is in Turkey. During the height of the First World War, The Ottoman Empire killed, deported and forcibly converted millions of Armenians in the name of creating a homogenous, Turkish and Islamic nation.
Following the defeat of the Ottomans, Armenia was given a large portion of its historic lands, only for them to be seized again by a resurgent and revisionist Turkish Republic. Shortly thereafter it was annexed by the Soviet Union, its culture and religion repressed by Communist occupation. The dream of independence, restored in the 1990s, has fast become a nightmare due to ongoing territorial disputes with its neighbour Azerbaijan. In 2023, the region of Nagorno-Karabakh was invaded by Azerbaijan, which killed hundreds of civilians and displaced almost the entire Armenian population.
Turkey supported this brutal invasion and ethnic cleansing, and is currently in the process of transforming Ani cathedral into a mosque. Like Hagia Sophia for the Greeks (and which has also been converted into a mosque), Ani was the historic seat of the Patriarch of the Armenian Church, and the entire city is a priceless archeological and cultural treasure for the Armenian people.
Armenia is the oldest Christian culture in the world, yet Armenians, who once lived in peace alongside other religious and ethnic groups, and made their homes across the Middle East, are increasingly forced to flee to the West, or penned up inside a small and increasingly menaced state whose territorial integrity is threatened by larger, richer and better armed neighbors. Whilst Palestine and Israel attract near-fanatical support from different sections of Western opinion, few are even aware of Armenia’s situation in the English-speaking world. Only France, with a large Armenian population and an independent foreign policy, is regularly willing to speak out.
Turkey is a NATO ally, yet between Israel and Ukraine, Western policymakers often find reasons not to press the issue of Armenia, and the Western press has long presented Armenia’s situation as a “territorial dispute”. With few potential allies, Armenia has relied on lukewarm Russian support, and the invasion of Ukraine in 2023 saw even that evaporate, and Azerbaijan given a free hand.
This situation is especially shaming, I think, for Western Christians. Collectively we have wealth, influence, and considerable media presence. If we advocated for Middle Eastern Christians with half the fervour that Muslims show on behalf of Palestinians, it could make a real difference to the plight of Christian communities like the Armenians. We seem almost moralistically shy of advocating for our brothers and sisters in Christ, and for our shared ethical, civilisational and religious interests. Whilst every other group campaigns noisily on its own behalf, we take a perverse pride in abandoning millions of people who have only us to care about them, lest we dare to show a hint of pride or loyalty to our own faith and identity.
Christians must become far bolder in … defending our co-religionists with every resource at our disposal
Fear of chauvinism is not only a chimera, but is self-defeating. Ethnic and religious hatreds have only festered as Christian leaders have exited the political conversation. The unique strides made in the 20th century towards ecumenism and religious toleration are being squandered, and either reduced to secular liberal platitudes, or rejected by strident new traditionalist movements. Yet this legacy is far older than any modern innovation, stretching back to the primacy of conscience in Christian theology, and theologians like Nicholas of Cusa. It is a unique gift of Christianity to the world, and a tradition that in no way diminishes our commitment to religious orthodoxy or the urgency of fighting to protect fellow Christians from persecution.
The dwindling of Christianity in the Middle East represents the dark shadow of a soulless religious fundamentalism which subordinates spirit to temporal power, and ethics to political expediency. The policies of countries like Iran, Israel and Turkey risk becoming a pure worship of the state, with religious faith yoked to nationalistic violence. Christians must become far bolder in presenting a hopeful alternative to this dystopian vision, and in defending our co-religionists with every resource at our disposal.
