RUTHFULLY YOURS

“After all, killing the ‘kafirs’ [non-believers of Islam] was a ‘good deed’. They were told ‘their place in heaven was guaranteed.’ Just like ISIS gangs… and that they would also take their relatives in hell to heaven.” — Sabri Atman, Assyrian Genocide and Research Center.

When ISIS invaded Mosul in August, 2014, Christian families were told by ISIS: “We offer [Christians] three choices: Islam; the dhimma contract — involving payment… if they refuse this, they will have nothing but the sword.”

“There is a great parallel between 1915 and what is going on in the Middle East today. … The most effective way to prevent future slaughter is to condemn past slaughter. Denying such a big crime means its continuation. The wish for genocide still exists in the Middle East.” — Sabri Atman.

“The Turkish authorities let a few Assyrians stay to show Europe and the world how good-hearted and tolerant Turkey and Islam are. … And they say, ‘Assyrians lead their lives so happily thanks to this great tolerance!'” — Sabri Atman.

The recent invasions and massacres committed by the Islamic State (ISIS) and Al-Qaeda terrorists in Iraq and Syria have brought a persecuted but mostly forgotten people to the attention of the world: the Assyrians.

The Assyrians, a native people of Mesopotamia, have been exposed to massacres before — throughout history, in fact.

Sometimes, especially in humankind’s most urgent matters of life and death, truth may emerge through paradox. In this connection, one may usefully recall the illuminating work of Jorge Luis Borges. In one of his most ingenious parables, the often mystical Argentine writer, who once wished openly that he had been born a Jew, examines the bewildering calculations of a condemned man.

Approaching desperation, this unfortunate soul, upon suddenly remembering that expectations rarely coincide with reality, intentionally imagines and re-imagines the circumstances of his own impending death. By completing this process, the doomed prisoner’s final reasoning quickly becomes quite simple. Because these circumstances have already become expectations, he calculates, death (at least for the present) will have to find someone else. For now, at least, his own mortality can be gratefully pushed aside. By thinking the worst, he will actually be saved.
With this complex lesson, Borges illustrates, by deploying both indirection and inference, the unanticipated benefits of deliberately “negative” thought. Oddly, perhaps, but not incorrectly, he leads us to understand, in certain life-threatening contexts, that actively imagining worst-case outcomes can be life-extending. Although starkly counter-intuitive, such easily discarded forms of understanding can still have unanticipated strategic benefits.

In Erdogan’s usual Sunni supremacist language, he accused the victims of jihad rather than the jihadists.

“New tragedies will be inevitable,” Erdogan said, “if the rising racism in Europe and other countries is not stopped.” Yet Erdogan willingly ignores the rising racism, xenophobia, and anti-western, jihadist sentiments that increasingly command the hearts and minds of his fellow Turks.

How should Erdogan fight Islamic terror — something he does not believe exists? One of Erdogan’s famous remarks is, “there is no Islamic terror.” But he thinks that “just like fascism,” Zionism is a crime against humanity.

It is so funny that the free world cannot see that its ally in fighting the jihadists is another jihadist.

Racism is bad, no doubt. But it cannot be the reason why jihadists kill “infidels,” including fellow Muslims in Muslim lands. Sadly, the free world feels compelled to partner with the wrong country in its fight against Islamic terror.