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CHRISTIAN INFIGHTING IN JERUSALEM
By Michael Hirst
BBC NEWS
http://news.bbc.co.uk/go/pr/fr/-/1/hi/world/m iddle_east/7719843.stm
2008/11/11 09:03:32 GMT
The argument over rights within Jerusalem's Church of the Holy
Sepulchre is as complicated and seemingly intractable as the Middle
East conflict itself.
But when the dispute descends into violence, battles are pitched with
crucifixes and staves rather than missiles, guns and stones.
Many Christians believe the church in the heart of Jerusalem's old city
marks the place of Jesus Christ's death, burial and resurrection. As
such, it is arguably Christianity's holiest site.
A church has stood in the area for 1,700 years. Due to the conflicts
that Jerusalem has since endured, the building has been partly
destroyed, rebuilt and renovated several times.
It is now a labyrinthine complex of chapels and living quarters that is
visited by hundreds of thousands of pilgrims and tourists every year.
Please turn on JavaScript. Media requires JavaScript to play.
Scenes of chaos as the church brawl breaks out
The church is grudgingly shared by six claimant communities -
Roman Catholic, Greek Orthodox, Armenian Orthodox, Syrian Orthodox,
Egyptian Copt and Ethiopian Orthodox - who have always jealously
defended their rights over various parts of the complex.
Rivalry between the groups dates back to the aftermath of the crusades
and to the great schism between Eastern and Western Christianity in
the 11th Century.
The Status Quo
So intense is the intra-Christian dispute that the six communities
cannot agree which of them should have a key to the site's main door.
Consequently, two Muslim families have been the sole guardians of
the 25cm (10 inch) key since they were entrusted with the task by
the Muslim ruler Saladin in 1178.
FEUDING FACTIONS Roman Catholic Greek Orthodox Armenian Orthodox
Syrian Orthodox Egyptian Copt Ethiopian Orthodox
One family is responsible for unlocking the door each morning
and locking it each night, while the other is responsible for its
safekeeping at all other times.
In order to settle disputes, the Ottoman sultan issued a 1757
edict (now referred to as the Status Quo agreement) which outlined
jurisdiction over Jerusalem's various Christian holy places.
Regarding the Holy Sepulchre, it defined exactly which parts - from
chapel, to lamp, to flagstone - of the complex were to be controlled
by which denomination.
The ruling forbad any changes in designated religious sites without
permission from the ruling government.
It also prohibited any changes whatsoever to designated sacred
areas - from building, to structural repairs to cleaning - unless
collectively agreed upon by the respective "tenants" from the rival
religious communities.
Punishment for a violation of the edict could result in the
confiscation of properties overseen by the offending group.
So closely is the ruling followed that it took 17 years of debate
before an agreement was reached to paint the church's main dome
in 1995.
Acrimonious processions
Monks and friars have been known to exchange blows over who owns a
chapel or whose right it is to clean which step.
Religious ceremonies can appear more like singing contests with
communities battling to chant the loudest.
Access to the tomb of Christ - a pale pink kiosk punctuated with
portholes and supported by scaffolding that the writer Robert Byron
compared to a steam-engine - is particularly fiercely guarded on
such occasions.
Processions on holy days regularly become acrimonious, with
jostling crowds exacerbating tensions over territorial disputes that
periodically descend into in punch-ups.
The smallest slight can end in violence: In 2004, a door to the Roman
Catholic chapel was left open during a Greek Orthodox ceremony.
This was perceived by the Greeks to be a sign of disrespect, and a
fight broke out which resulted in several arrests.
The intractable nature of the territorial arguments over the site
are epitomised by the short wooden ladder that rests on a ledge above
the church's main entrance.
It has been there since the 19th Century because rival groups cannot
agree who has the right to take it down.
Under the Status Quo agreement, rights to the windows reached by the
ladder belong to the Armenians, but the ledge below is controlled by
the Greeks.
Roof falling in?
Also emblematic of the territorial dispute's intensity is an ongoing
row which, unless resolved, could see the church's roof collapse.
Ethiopians were banished from the church's interior by the sultan two
centuries years ago because they could not pay the necessary taxes,
and have been living in a monastery on the roof ever since.
The monastery, Deir al-Sultan, now comprises two chapels, an open
courtyard, service and storage rooms and a series of tiny huts
inhabited by Ethiopian monks. It is reminiscent of a basic African
village.
All agree the monastery is in poor shape, but a recent Israeli report
said it had reached an "emergency state", and was at risk of collapsing
through the roof into the church.
Israel has said it will pay for the repairs if the Christians
can reach agreement on them, but this seems unlikely, due to a
long-running ownership dispute between Ethiopian monks and their
Egyptian counterparts.
Over the years, this dispute has been played out on various
battlefields, including Israel's highest courts.
So intense has the argument become that when a monk moved a chair out
of the sunshine into a shadier area during a heat-wave six years ago,
his action was seen as an attempted land-grab.
A fight broke out that left several monks needing hospital treatment.
Such skirmishes may seem nonsensical, but are all too common an
occurrence at Christianity's most revered shrine.
By Michael Hirst
BBC NEWS
http://news.bbc.co.uk/go/pr/fr/-/1/hi/world/m iddle_east/7719843.stm
2008/11/11 09:03:32 GMT
The argument over rights within Jerusalem's Church of the Holy
Sepulchre is as complicated and seemingly intractable as the Middle
East conflict itself.
But when the dispute descends into violence, battles are pitched with
crucifixes and staves rather than missiles, guns and stones.
Many Christians believe the church in the heart of Jerusalem's old city
marks the place of Jesus Christ's death, burial and resurrection. As
such, it is arguably Christianity's holiest site.
A church has stood in the area for 1,700 years. Due to the conflicts
that Jerusalem has since endured, the building has been partly
destroyed, rebuilt and renovated several times.
It is now a labyrinthine complex of chapels and living quarters that is
visited by hundreds of thousands of pilgrims and tourists every year.
Please turn on JavaScript. Media requires JavaScript to play.
Scenes of chaos as the church brawl breaks out
The church is grudgingly shared by six claimant communities -
Roman Catholic, Greek Orthodox, Armenian Orthodox, Syrian Orthodox,
Egyptian Copt and Ethiopian Orthodox - who have always jealously
defended their rights over various parts of the complex.
Rivalry between the groups dates back to the aftermath of the crusades
and to the great schism between Eastern and Western Christianity in
the 11th Century.
The Status Quo
So intense is the intra-Christian dispute that the six communities
cannot agree which of them should have a key to the site's main door.
Consequently, two Muslim families have been the sole guardians of
the 25cm (10 inch) key since they were entrusted with the task by
the Muslim ruler Saladin in 1178.
FEUDING FACTIONS Roman Catholic Greek Orthodox Armenian Orthodox
Syrian Orthodox Egyptian Copt Ethiopian Orthodox
One family is responsible for unlocking the door each morning
and locking it each night, while the other is responsible for its
safekeeping at all other times.
In order to settle disputes, the Ottoman sultan issued a 1757
edict (now referred to as the Status Quo agreement) which outlined
jurisdiction over Jerusalem's various Christian holy places.
Regarding the Holy Sepulchre, it defined exactly which parts - from
chapel, to lamp, to flagstone - of the complex were to be controlled
by which denomination.
The ruling forbad any changes in designated religious sites without
permission from the ruling government.
It also prohibited any changes whatsoever to designated sacred
areas - from building, to structural repairs to cleaning - unless
collectively agreed upon by the respective "tenants" from the rival
religious communities.
Punishment for a violation of the edict could result in the
confiscation of properties overseen by the offending group.
So closely is the ruling followed that it took 17 years of debate
before an agreement was reached to paint the church's main dome
in 1995.
Acrimonious processions
Monks and friars have been known to exchange blows over who owns a
chapel or whose right it is to clean which step.
Religious ceremonies can appear more like singing contests with
communities battling to chant the loudest.
Access to the tomb of Christ - a pale pink kiosk punctuated with
portholes and supported by scaffolding that the writer Robert Byron
compared to a steam-engine - is particularly fiercely guarded on
such occasions.
Processions on holy days regularly become acrimonious, with
jostling crowds exacerbating tensions over territorial disputes that
periodically descend into in punch-ups.
The smallest slight can end in violence: In 2004, a door to the Roman
Catholic chapel was left open during a Greek Orthodox ceremony.
This was perceived by the Greeks to be a sign of disrespect, and a
fight broke out which resulted in several arrests.
The intractable nature of the territorial arguments over the site
are epitomised by the short wooden ladder that rests on a ledge above
the church's main entrance.
It has been there since the 19th Century because rival groups cannot
agree who has the right to take it down.
Under the Status Quo agreement, rights to the windows reached by the
ladder belong to the Armenians, but the ledge below is controlled by
the Greeks.
Roof falling in?
Also emblematic of the territorial dispute's intensity is an ongoing
row which, unless resolved, could see the church's roof collapse.
Ethiopians were banished from the church's interior by the sultan two
centuries years ago because they could not pay the necessary taxes,
and have been living in a monastery on the roof ever since.
The monastery, Deir al-Sultan, now comprises two chapels, an open
courtyard, service and storage rooms and a series of tiny huts
inhabited by Ethiopian monks. It is reminiscent of a basic African
village.
All agree the monastery is in poor shape, but a recent Israeli report
said it had reached an "emergency state", and was at risk of collapsing
through the roof into the church.
Israel has said it will pay for the repairs if the Christians
can reach agreement on them, but this seems unlikely, due to a
long-running ownership dispute between Ethiopian monks and their
Egyptian counterparts.
Over the years, this dispute has been played out on various
battlefields, including Israel's highest courts.
So intense has the argument become that when a monk moved a chair out
of the sunshine into a shadier area during a heat-wave six years ago,
his action was seen as an attempted land-grab.
A fight broke out that left several monks needing hospital treatment.
Such skirmishes may seem nonsensical, but are all too common an
occurrence at Christianity's most revered shrine.