“From an olive branch, we are ready to establish an olive forest”: Nurgül Çelebi discusses upcoming painting exhibition and work of Institut Mesopotamie de Bruxelles

On 12 June 2022, the Institut Mesopotamie de Bruxelles will open a painting exhibition, displaying works by female artists covering the Sayfo Genocide.

In 1915, the Syriac (Aramean–Assyrian–Chaldean) people, one of the oldest peoples of Beth Nahrin (Mesopotamia) and the first to accept Christianity, were subjected to genocide by forces of the Ottoman Empire.

The Sayfo, literally “sword”, is the Syriac term for the series of genocides committed by the Ottoman Empire and its Kurdish, Arab, and Circassian allies which saw the deaths of an estimated 1.5 million Armenians, 300,000 Greeks, 300,000 Yezidis, and 300,000 Syriacs (Arameans–Assyrians–Chaldeans). Equal numbers were forced from their homes and displaced.

Historically numbering in the millions, the Syriac (Aramean–Assyrian–Chaldean) communities that remain in Turkey has been reduced to some 35,000. The remaining communities have been subjected to unequal application of the law, detention, and “unsolved” disappearances and murders.

Annually, on 15 June, Syriacs (Arameans–Assyrians–Chaldeans) commemorate the hundreds of thousands of victims of the Sayfo Genocide of 1915.

SyriacPress interviewed Director of Projects and Programs at Institut Mesopotamie de Bruxelles Nurgül Çelebi about the exhibition, the work of the Institut, and her own work.

There is a fig tree on the exhibition flyer. Does it have a special significance?

The fig tree is an important symbol for this exhibition. It is actually the serial name of my first two novels, Yarına Dokunmak and Aşka Dokunmak, which I wrote 12 years ago. When I heard the story years ago, which I will relate to you, the fig tree turned into a symbol whose roots pierced my body and heart like a knife. It will make your heart bleed, I’m sorry. But it is difficult to face the facts.

One hundred years ago, during the Sayfo — which some call a genocide, massacre, or great disaster — my family’s homeland, Kerboran, was covered in blood. More than 400 Syriacs were killed in one night. It is a pity that these people could not be buried according to their religious rites, and a fig tree — which is known to prevent odor — was planted on them so that their bodies would not smell. For 107 years, we have been fed by that fig tree which has been growing on the bodies of those killed. The cries of their tormented souls became the sap of the fig tree. In my novels, when I was telling the story of my great-grandmother Zilfo, I heard these fig trees wail. Those cries soon drew me to the arid lands of Kerboran. It was the fig tree that I came across there, with its neck bent, its branches collapsed, and its heart broken. The fig tree has become a symbol of Sayfo for me since the day I started to tell its story.

You’ve written two novels about the Sayfo, the genocide of the Syriacs by the Ottoman Empire. Have they attracted much attention? Do you think the Sayfo is known enough?

To be honest, no. Unfortunately, the Sayfo is hardly known, even where it took place. The awareness of the Sayfo in the diaspora has increased as a result of Sayfo monuments and initiatives of Syriac activists. Although many European countries recognize Sayfo, the name of the genocide is relatively unknown in Turkey. My first novel, published in 2011, was perhaps the first book written about the Sayfo in Turkey. In the messages I received after the publication of my book, people asked questions about what Sayfo means, who the Syriacs are, and whether such an ethnic identity ever lived within the borders of Turkey.

People do not prefer to face the darkness of their past. My books did not attract the attention I expected, probably because the Sayfo represents Turkey’s dark, and largely unaddressed, past. However, the dozens of messages I received from readers created a group I could share this pain with. They asked, I told them about Syriacs. They got angry, I showed the bleeding wounds. That was my main purpose anyway. Reaching those who have never known us and our pain.

Your work shows a special interest and care for the suffering and fate of women during the Sayfo. What is the reason?

Of course, being a woman has a great influence on my focus on the work of women. However, there are two reasons that push me to look at the Sayfo from a woman’s perspective. The first reason is my great-grandmother Zilfo, who lost her family in the Sayfo massacre. I feel her trauma with all my heart. The brutal scenes she witnessed when she was still a little girl turned my nights into nightmares.

The second reason is that women in suffered during the Sayfo the most. When the men were killed, it was their salvation in a way. Women and girls, while burning with the pain of losing their husbands, fathers, and brothers, were held captive by men they never knew. They were forced into marriages, some were raped, and many were coerced into religious conversion. Unfortunately, the brutality of women is always the worst. That’s why I’m extremely sensitive to women. Since I wanted to underline this in our painting exhibition, I asked our painters to compose works expressing the situation of women in the Sayfo. For this exhibition, we are working exclusively with female painters.

| Read Also: Living Descendants and Witnesses of Sayfo Genocide of 1915

There is a phrase the exhibition brochure, “painting the canvas with colors instead of blood”. Can you unpack that a little?

I wrote this sentence with all sincerity. We do not act out of vengeance. All we want is for the past to be dealt with honestly and for the acceptance of the Sayfo so generational healing can replace generational trauma. That’s why I think that the lands that were covered in the blood of the Syriacs 107 years ago should be replaced by canvases painted with colors that symbolize rebirth.

It would be understandable if there was resentment over the Sayfo and its denial by the ancestors of its perpetrators. Is it fair to call the exhibition a kind of olive branch?

The language of peace must be firm and durable. It should not be easily destroyed. Therefore, a durable olive branch can take an important place in the building of peace. But I think an olive branch should be extended to a society that suffers, not from it. I would like to explain the importance of being the one who extends the olive branch, in order to encourage those who do not have the courage to take that olive branch in their hands. This is a kind of open call: We must win the Assyrians, Arameans, Chaldeans, Pontic Greeks, and Armenians who were all victims of related massacres and genocides.

Could you give us some information about previous and upcoming activities of your institute?

As Institut Mesopotamie de Bruxelles, we set out with the aim of representing all Mesopotamian peoples, especially Syriacs. We have started to implement many of our projects both to train our intellectuals and to support and encourage studies to be carried out in the academic field. The first of these projects is the Fig Tree Painting Exhibition, which is an artistic event. In addition to this, our online courses, various workshops, literature studies, and women’s conferences have also been planned. For example, we are preparing a webinar where the Sayfo will be discussed from sociological, linguistic, legal, and political perspectives by academics who are experts in their fields. Our certified summer seminars that we will organize in July and August are ready. We are also planning gastronomic projects and the plan to establish a publishing house.

We are ready to revive and keep alive a culture that is about to disappear. For this purpose, we invite all our communities to join us and support our institute. From an olive branch, we are ready to establish an olive forest.