My French grandmother would often say:
“Plus ca change, plus c’est la même chose.”
“The more it changes, the more it’s the same thing.”
I heard heartbreaking stories about my grandparents from my paternal aunts and uncle.
All three chillingly spoke of ethnic cleansing.
From about 1914 to 1923, terrified Syrian Christians, Syrian Jews, and of course, the Armenians were forced into hard labor, murdered, raped, robbed, starved, and if they were lucky, deported.
Many of them were burned to death. Burned at the stake.
Others were crucified.
They were called Ottoman soldiers back then. From the Republic of Turkey.
My uncle once described the horrific experiences his parents went through as the “Turkification” of Syrian border towns and villages.
Turkification gave the bad guys the license to expel, to kill, and to destroy anything or anyone non-Turkish.
Christians and Jews were seen as a danger to the integrity of the Ottoman Empire.
The Ottoman soldiers were systematic, and the killings were well organized and state-sponsored.
They needed to clear out their border, and so they did. The Turkish government denies that they slaughtered innocent men, women, and children, but they lie.
Hearing Trump say, “They had terrorists, they had a lot of people in there they couldn’t have …. and they had to have it cleaned out” gave me the chills.
The president of the United States called for northern Kurdish Syria to be “cleaned out.”
They’re at it again, I thought to myself, but this time with the assistance and blessing of my president.
When is enough enough? Have we as a country no shame? Where is the outrage? Why are we not taking to the streets?
These were my thoughts as Trump spewed his hateful words.
According to my uncle, my grandmother was a Syrian Jew whose sisters were raped and slaughtered. She hid and somehow escaped to France.
My grandfather was a Syrian Christian who saw the writing on the wall.
The Turks wanted to clear Turkish soil of Christians, including the Syrian border.
My grandparents were from an area called something like “Suede.” I’m not sure of the spelling.
But what I am sure of is that Turkish soldiers came in, cleaned out the area, and confiscated that part of Syria for themselves.
Were it not for my grandmother and grandfather’s escape to France and then to the United States; I wouldn’t exist.
I recently read that there were a lot of German officers in Turkey during the massacres of the Syrian Jews, Syrian Christians, and the Armenians, who in WWI went back to Germany.
What happened in Turkey left an indelible impression on the German officers.
Many of them ended up in the Nazi party.
And we all know how that ended.