The experiences of Çiço İbrahimke during the Sayfo Genocide

By Suphi Aksoy | Member of the Presidential Committee of the Bethnahrin National Council The 1915 genocide, known as Sayfo in Syriac, was carried out against the Syriac, Armenian and Greek-Pontian Christian peoples over a vast geographical area. Massacres and deportations intensified1915. They stretched from Istanbul to Hakkari. In that year the atrocities peaked. The genocidal attacks began in early June, when Ottoman military units and irregular armed gangs crossed the Tigris River in northern Tur Abdin and laid siege to settlements around Hasankeyf, burning and destroying everything in their path. Within days, the genocidal attacks had spread to all the towns and villages of Tur Abdin. Thousands of Syriacs in the village of Qeleth also suffered a devastating catastrophe. In addition to Ottoman imperial forces, the Mhallami and Kurdish villages surrounding Qeleth also took part in the massacres and looting, committing atrocities. Çiço İbrahimke was eight years old during the genocide. His father, İbrahim, his mother, Hazno, his eldest brother, Aziz, and many of his relatives were brutally massacred. His 13-year-old brother, Fetrus, disappeared. It was later learned that he had perished as a result of hunger, illness, and the harsh conditions he endured after the Sayfo. Only Çiço and his two sisters survived. Their stories of survival, however, proved even more painful and harrowing than the stories of those who were massacred. This was because many of those who attacked Qeleth from neighbouring villages not only seized people's property and possessions but also abducted women and young girls. A man named Mısto from the neighboring village of Menzel (Turkish: Kayatepe) forcibly took Çiço İbrahimke's sister, Ayda, and attempted to abduct her. Ayda told him that she would go with him only if he agreed to take Çiço with her. Mısto accepted her demand. Meanwhile, Çiço's other sister, Refka, was abducted by a man named Şükro, also from Menzel. Çiço later recounted the stories of what had happened to him and his sisters to his children and grandchildren. Çiço’s grandson, Albert Karademir, has long sought to document the events he heard in childhood. He did everything he could to reveal and share with others the accounts of his grandfather, Çiço, and the elderly residents. He has also been working to compile the events in a book. This article is based on his account. During the time Çiço İbrahimke lived in the home of his sister Ayda and Mısto, he was forced to work in the fields and tend livestock. He was also often left hungry. One day, while he was out grazing animals in the mountains with Muslim children from the village, they forcibly circumcised him using stones. When Çiço was left unconscious on the mountain, his sister went out to search for him. She found him and brought him back to the village, where she laid him in a stable and tried to treat him under primitive conditions. Once he had recovered somewhat, she told him, “If you stay here, they will kill you. Go; perhaps you will survive.” She instructed him to go to the Saffron Monastery in Mardin and explained the route. Çiço then set out on the journey. He was only a young boy. He travelled through mountains and valleys. Along the way, the rocks and trees appeared as though they were murderers coming to attack him. The sounds of animals and birds reached his ears as piercing screams and terrifying echoes. Overcome by fear, panic, and anxiety, he broke into a cold sweat. He began to shout, sing, and make noise to comfort himself. Driven by a desperate hope for survival and tried to suppress his fear. It was a race against time. When he finally reached the gates of the Saffron Monastery, covered in blood, he knocked frantically, trembling with fear and still in shock. The attendant who opened the gate was astonished to find a small child standing before him in such a wretched state. “Who are you, my boy?” he asked. Before answering, Çiço asked the attendant for water. He then explained that he was a Syriac and identified the village from which he had fled. Çiço İbrahimke stayed at the Saffron Monastery for seven years. There, he learned to read and write and became a Shamosho (deacon) at the monastery. The education he received at the monastery helped him rediscover the joy of life, appreciate its positive aspects and understand the world around him. He began to live according to these principles, he lived a life of tolerance, respect, and humility toward everyone. After leaving the Saffron Monastery, he worked as a farmhand for one of the prominent figures in the village of Bnebil (Turkish: Bülbül). At the age of 17, he returned to his home village of Qeleth. Shortly after his return, the villagers rebuilt his house. He later married Mençe, who was 15 years old at the time. Mençe’s sister, Mereme, had also been abducted by a man from the neighbouring village of Rajneli (Turkish: Üçkavak). Çiço ’s sister Ayda did not remain with Mısto for long. Unable to endure the abuse and torture and insults she suffered, she left her six-month-old son, Assad, at the house and returned to Qeleth. After Çiço returned to the village, he arranged for Ayda to marry a Syriac man. His other sister, Refka, had two children, Musa and Arabe. However, she too fled from Şükro because of the abuse and torture she endured and made her way to Qeleth. She eventually died there from an illness she had contracted due to the abuse. After 1917, the survivors of the Sayfo from Qeleth began returning to their village and resettling there. Vehdi Bey of Savur played a decisive role in facilitating their return. When thousands of Qeleth residents were being massacred inside the village and in the surrounding areas, and while others faced deportation under the deportation law, Vehdi Bey intervened with state authorities. He took 72 children from Qeleth into his custody and sheltered them in secret at his mansion for years. Vehdi Bey also provided refuge at his mansion to more than 200 Christians who had arrived from other villages than Qeleth. Many women and girls from Qeleth were abducted by Muslims and forcibly converted to Islam, severing their ties to their religious beliefs and identities. Tragically, every single person from Qeleth who survived the genocide—only to be forcibly converted to Islam—carries their own distinct and painful story. The views expressed in this op-ed are solely those of the author and do not necessarily represent those of SyriacPress.