Anna Hager. Studies in World Christianity. Volume 24, Issue 3, December 2018.
Scholarship on Christians in the Middle East has paid little attention to the role the Christian laity has played in defining and maintaining Christian identity and community boundaries. The so-called Orthodox issue (al-qaḍya al-urthudhuksiyya in Arabic) enhances our understanding of this role. It is an ongoing conflict within the Greek Orthodox Patriarchate of Jerusalem between the church leadership of Greek extraction and the Arab – usually lower-ranking – clergy and laity. This article uses a case-study approach to a series of protests in Jordan in 2014 against a decision by the Patriarchate to relocate a local reform-minded cleric. Using ethnographic, historical and philological methods, I argue that through their engagement in this struggle, Greek Orthodox Jordanians assert their identity as Christians, as Arabs and as loyal Jordanians. This offers a perspective into the complex interplay between church—community relations, the issue of pastoral care, and this community’s identity.
Introduction
Scholarship on Levantine Christianity has been traditionally dominated by an ecclesiological focus. In recent years, significant contributions have been made with regard to questions of Christian diversity, agency, narratives and state—church as well as state—community relations. This is particularly the case for the Copts in Egypt and, consequently, the current state of research on Christians in the Middle East is largely informed by the Egyptian context. The Jordanian case, however, in which Christians constitute approximately 3 to 4 per cent of the population and the Greek Orthodox are the largest Christian community, offers an entirely different perspective on the role of the laity in maintaining the cohesion and identity of their Christian community and displays an approach to the question of Arabism in Christian identity that contrasts with the Coptic Orthodox case, which insists on a separate, purely Coptic, basis for group and individual identity.
These questions of community cohesion and identity particularly centre on the so-called Orthodox issue (al-qaḍya al-urthudhuksiyya in Arabic) in Jordan, which is an ongoing conflict in the jurisdiction of the Greek Orthodox Patriarchate of Jerusalem (Palestine, Israel, Jordan) between the church leadership of Greek extraction and the usually lower-status Arab clergy and laity over representation and pastoral care. This article focuses in particular on a series of protests which took place in Jordan in 2014 against a decision of the Patriarchate to relocate a reform-minded Jordanian cleric. I argue that through their engagement in this struggle, Greek Orthodox Jordanians of both East Bank and Palestinian origin assert their identity as Christians, as Greek Orthodox, as Arabs and as loyal Jordanians. This case-study approach offers perspectives into, first, the complex interplay among the Greek Orthodox hierarchy, the Arab clergy and the local community; second, the disruption of these relations due to perceived insufficient pastoral care and alleged corruption within the church; and third, the question of the ‘Greek’ and/or ‘Arab’ identity of this community in Jordan.
To reconstruct the multilayered aspect of the Orthodox issue, I adopt a pluri-disciplinary approach, using ethnographic, historical and philological methods. The philological approach is crucial since part of the conflict centres on the question of whether this community is Greek (rum) or Arab Orthodox. During fieldwork in 2015, I conducted interviews with a number of key actors on both sides of the struggle. In addition, I gathered material, most of it in Arabic, from the Jordanian media, the Patriarchate’s website and Christian Arab websites. Herein lies a major difficulty: the protests in 2014 were not mentioned at all on the Patriarchate’s website or in the Christian Arab journal Proche-Orient Chrétien. The Orthodox issue in Jordan is especially important because hitherto too little attention has been paid to the subjects of the Christians in Jordan, the Orthodox issue in general and the Orthodox issue in Jordan specifically. Panayiotis Jerasimof Vatikiotis looked at the Orthodox issue mainly from the church leadership’s perspective. Fuad Farah mentions the issue from a specifically Christian Palestinian perspective. The Orthodox issue in Jordan itself is only briefly discussed by Géraldine Chatelard and only up to the 1990s.
However, the Orthodox issue continues to be hotly debated, especially now as the Jordanian Greek Orthodox face an ongoing defection of their members to other Christian communities. Parts one and two below set the stage, highlighting the case of Christians in Jordan (I) and the Patriarchate of Jerusalem (II). Part three describes the main actors in the protests of 2014. Part four shows how the question of the clergy and pastoral care are considered instrumental for the maintenance of Greek Orthodox community boundaries. Finally, Part five discusses the contested narratives about identity expressed by both sides in the struggle.
Christians in Jordan: A Strong Laity
The shape of the Orthodox struggle in Jordan is closely related to the characteristics of the Christian community in this country, which set it sharply apart from other Christian communities in the Middle East. One main feature is the existence of a strong lay notability and its maintenance throughout the twentieth century, in contrast to Egypt and Syria, where economic and political reforms (particularly land reform) have significantly weakened the traditional notability.
Up until the mid-nineteenth century, present-day Jordan was at the margins of the Ottoman Empire. It was occupied by both Muslim and Christian tribes, who interacted on an equal footing and displayed strong elements of mutual religious assimilation. There are reports of Christians who did not consume pork and alcohol, and, from Jean Louis Burckhardt, of Muslims who baptised their children. Both this tribal heritage and the memory of comparatively peaceful Christian—Muslim relations continue to inform contemporary Christian Jordanian narratives.
Beginning in the mid-nineteenth century the East Bank of the Jordan, like other parts of the Middle East, experienced waves of modernisation, and these significantly impacted the local Christian community. Because of Transjordan’s reintegration into the Ottoman Empire and its integration into the regional economy, Transjordanian Christians were part of an emerging class of merchants. An example of that development is the Greek Orthodox Abu Jabir family (which later had an important role in the Orthodox struggle), a tribe which established itself in the growing city of al-Salṭ. They began as merchants and subsequently founded one of the largest estates of arable land before turning to other economic fields. Thus, more than its political leverage—which will be discussed below—economic power ensures the Christian Jordanians’ strong role in Jordanian society and, in the Orthodox struggle, the maintenance of Greek Orthodox community boundaries. Their relatively small numbers (approximately 4 per cent of the population) are outweighed by their presence in banking, car dealership, air-conditioning, business-trading, industry, services and the Chamber of Commerce. For instance, a scion of the Abu Jabir family, Raʾuf, born in 1925, introduced insurance to Jordan.
The Orthodox economic power is ensured by the political environment. Ever since its establishment in Transjordan after World War One, the Hashemite family has relied on the high level of education of the local East Bank Christians. Moreover, a quota system guarantees the over-representation of Christians in the Jordanian Parliament. Unwritten tradition also compels the king to name one or two Christian ministers.
The Christian community itself has experienced significant changes since the nineteenth century in terms of demographics, which increases the difficulties the Greek Orthodox have in maintaining cohesion and identity. Christians in present-day Jordan formerly were mainly Greek Orthodox, but the proportion of this community has steadily declined since the mid-nineteenth century. As a result of Greek Catholic Melkite and of Latin (Roman Catholic) missionary efforts, there are now sizeable Melkite and Latin communities in Jordan (24.3 per cent and 29.3 per cent of the Christians respectively, whereas the Greek Orthodox now make up just over a third). The number of Latins in particular seems to have increased. Moreover, an increasing number of Protestant churches have gained official recognition in recent years: previously the Lutheran and the Episcopal Churches were the only two recognised Protestant bodies, but in 2009 the Seventh-day Adventists and Presbyterians also gained official recognition. Several other Protestant groups, such as the Baptists, though not officially recognised, are registered associations. As will be discussed below, the decreasing proportion of Greek Orthodox was a main concern of the protests in 2014. It must be understood that the bishops in Jordan have not only a spiritual and pastoral role but are also judges in the Christian community courts which apply canon law to personal affairs.
Another important feature of Jordanian Christianity is the Palestinian Christians. Following the 1948 war, Transjordan annexed the West Bank and its population increased by almost 300 per cent. Palestinians on both sides of the Jordan were granted Jordanian citizenship in 1949. Thus, although the East Bank—Palestinian divide is significant and East Bank Palestinians especially felt threatened, this division seems much less relevant in the context of the Orthodox struggle.
The Patriarchate of Jerusalem: The Orthodox Issue
This section will summarise the conflict between the Orthodox Patriarchate in Jerusalem and the Arabic-speaking community, particularly in Jordan. Part of the conflict stems from the specifics of the Greek Orthodox Patriarchate of Jerusalem, the jurisdiction of which encompasses four conflicting political entities—Gaza, Israel, the West Bank and Jordan—as well as several Christian holy sites. These holy sites are key to its legitimacy. The Patriarchate is run by the Brotherhood of the Holy Sepulchre. Unlike the Greek Orthodox Patriarchate of Antioch, the Arab community did not gain control of the church, which is still dominated by ethnic Greeks.
The Orthodox issue is generally said to have emerged during the nineteenth century in the context of Ottoman reforms affecting Christian community structures and competing European interests—especially the Russian influence on the Greek Orthodox. Until the nineteenth century the Patriarch did not reside in Jerusalem but in Constantinople, where he retained considerable ecumenical authority. In 1872 the first lay protests against the Patriarchate took place. This lay movement at first adopted the model of nationalist church movements in the Balkans and the Patriarchate of Antioch. As a result, in 1875 the Sublime Porte issued a ‘Fundamental Law’ granting the laity minor rights, but also reaffirming the control of the Greek clergy. This increasing conflict took place in the wider context of the laity’s greater institutional control over the churches and their resources in the Ottoman Empire and Egypt (a majlis milli was established in Egypt at that time).
During the first half of the twentieth century, the political context for the Patriarchate changed because of the collapse of the Ottoman Empire, the establishment of the British Mandate over Palestine in 1921, the Zionist movement and the emergence of a powerful, educated laity and of Arab nationalism, in both of which Greek Orthodox Christians played an important role. The attitude of the Greek Orthodox Church further contributed to an escalation: according to Laura Robson, the Patriarchate issued statements in the 1920s supporting the Zionist movement in Palestine. As a result, the Greek community, led by important actors like Khalil al-Sakakini (1878-1953), began to shape their struggle as a political movement. They used ‘a newly politicized language, organization, and approach’ to identify their struggle as part of the larger Palestinian movement for self-determination. In response to land sales by the Church, the first Orthodox Congress took place in 1923 in Haifa under the leadership of the Palestinians Iskandir Kassab and Yaʿqub Farraj. This first Congress included delegations from both Palestinian and Transjordanian localities, including from the latter Irbid and ʿAjlun, al-Karak, al-Salṭ, Madaba and al-Ḥuṣn. Thus both newly urbanised and highly tribal areas of Jordan were represented. The second Orthodox Congress took place in 1941 under the leadership of an important Transjordanian Christian, Saʿd Abu Jabir, father of Raʾuf Abu Jabir.
After the Nakba in 1948, the Orthodox struggle relocated to Jordan. The fourth Orthodox Congress took place in Jerusalem, then under Jordanian control, and the fifth in 1992 in Amman under the leadership of Raʾuf Abu Jabir. The Orthodox Society (al-jamʿiyya al-urthudhuksiyya) was founded by Raʾuf Abu Jabir following the fifth Orthodox Congress, reportedly with the support of the Jordanian prime minister, to revitalise the Orthodox movement. The goals of the Orthodox Society are to improve the situation of the Christian Orthodox spiritually, socially and culturally as well as to strengthen national spirit. Raʾuf Abu Jabir has also been the president of the Charitable Association for the Arab Orthodox Revival (jamʿiyyat al-nahḍa al-ʿarabiyya al-urthudhuksiyya al-khayriyya) and president of the Orthodox Central Council (al-majlis al-markazi al-urthudhuksi). The current president of the Orthodox Society is Bassim Farraj, an engineer and businessman of Palestinian origin, who is also vice-chairman of the Orthodox Central Council and a member of the Orthodox Club. The case of the Orthodox Club shows the extent to which the Palestinian Greek Orthodox have rebuilt their community in Jordan. The club was founded in Jaffa and re-established in Jordan following the war of 1948. It is a sports club open to everyone, including Muslims, for a fee, but also supervises an orphanage and a hospice for the elderly.
The Christian Jordanian community presented better opportunities to maintain the vigour of the Orthodox struggle. In particular, figures like Raʾuf Abu Jabir and Bassem Farraj, and organisations like the Orthodox Club, have revitalised the struggle.
The Orthodox Struggle in Practice
This section will describe the protest the Greek Orthodox community in Jordan staged in 2014 against a decision by the Patriarchate’s Holy Synod. This involved a number of issues pertaining to both identity and pastoral ministry.
The object of controversy was the female Monastery of the Life-Giving Spring in Dibin, in northern Jordan, and in particular its abbot Christophoros, a Jordanian Archimandrite (most often referred to in Arabic as ‘Archimandrite Christophoros ʿAṭa Allah’). This monastery was the first Greek Orthodox monastery for novices in Jordan and filled a pastoral role to the local parish. At some point, the monastery and the person of Christophoros became two key issues in the Orthodox struggle. On 6 June 2014 four Jordanian and Palestinian Arab clerics, amongst them Archimandrite Christophoros, issued a statement with seven demands for reform. In response, on 23 June 2014 the Holy Synod decided to transfer Archimandrite Christophoros to Jerusalem as a spiritual guide and pedagogue in the school of the Patriarchate. The bishop of Amman, Benedict, an ethnic Greek, referred to Christophoros as the main cause of this crisis, though the latter had reportedly asked the pardon of the Patriarch and was forgiven.
The crisis around the Monastery of the Life-Giving Spring and Archimandrite Christophoros showed the Patriarchate’s determination to maintain patriarchal control. However, the Latin website Abouna not only highlighted the pastoral role this monastery carried out for the local Greek Orthodox community, but credited it mainly to Christophoros. Also, the Lebanese newspaper al-Safir reported that the monastery housed an institute that could eventually have been turned into a seminary to train priests—something that does not exist in Jordan. The issue of this monastery was symptomatic of the conflicts between the Patriarchate and the community, which included a dispute over who had founded the monastic establishment. It was reportedly planned in 1969 by the late Patriarch Diodoros I, who laid the first stone in 1999. The monastery was opened in 2002 by Benedict, the Bishop of Amman. Yet the Jordanian media have insisted that this monastery was a local Jordanian initiative: for instance, the Jordanian newspaper al-Ray asserted that the monastery had been built by ‘Orthodox Jordanians’. In contrast, the website of the Greek Orthodox Patriarchate declares the monastery to be ‘under the direct supervision and care of His Beatitude [Patriarch Theophilos III]’ and simply mentions Archimandrite Christophoros as the monastery’s ‘spiritual father’.
Besides Archimandrite Christophoros, the Holy Synod’s declaration of 23 June 2014 targeted three other reform-minded clerics who had signed the petition for reform: Jordanian Hieromonk Athanasios Qaqish (spelled Athanasios Kakish on the Patriarchate’s website); Bishop ʿAṭa Allah Ḥanna (in Greek, Bishop Theodosius), a Palestinian bishop who is also heavily involved in the Palestinian struggle for self-determination; and the Palestinian Archimandrite Meletios Baṣal, located in the West Bank. The Holy Synod apparently also decided to reduce the salaries of ʿAṭa Allah Ḥanna and Meletios Baṣal, to appoint Hieromonk Athanasios Qaqish as vicar to Jarash and to place the Monastery of the Life-Giving Spring in Dibin under the jurisdiction of the Bishop of Irbid, Philoumenos.
The protests in reaction to the decisions of the Holy Synod showed both a high level of mobilisation by the community and a low level of leadership and organisation. At the end of June protests took place in Amman, ʿAjlun, al-Ḥuṣn and Irbid. A protest also occurred before the bishopric in Amman. In October 2014, another protest took place, this time at the monastery in Dibin, against the policy of the Patriarchate and the intervention by the Jordanian government.
Thus the Greek Orthodox community in Jordan relied mostly on protests that only gradually engaged the structures of the community—the various organisations and actors of the Orthodox struggle, the tribes, the Christian MPs. The protest in June 2014 in front of the bishopric of Amman was staged by the ‘Arab Orthodox Youth’. In July 2014 the Vatican Insider reported on the formation of a movement for reform supported by 700 representatives of the community, led by the four Arab clerics, and meeting at the Orthodox Club in Amman. Perhaps in connection with this event, the so-called Arab Orthodox Clergy for Revival issued a statement signed by the Orthodox Club. This suggests that the Orthodox Club—an athletic and cultural club open to all confessions—had become an important platform for the Orthodox movement. However, it seems that neither this move nor the protests as a whole were unanimously supported in the community, since Bassim Farraj reportedly urged priests to join the protests. Furthermore, at the protest at the monastery in Dibin in October 2014, there were reports of banners signed by the tribes, and of participants signing a petition, demanding the King correct the authorities’ decisions. In December 2014 the Orthodox MPs finally expressed their support for the protests. Around the same time, the Orthodox Central Council and the Arab Orthodox Youth issued a statement. It is likely that the traditional leaders of the Orthodox Movement—that is, the Orthodox Society and the Orthodox Central Council—had a more vocal and active role in this issue, but the sources do not confirm this.
This broad and loose coalition targeted several figures—first and foremost, the Greek Orthodox Patriarchate in Jerusalem and its representatives in Jordan; the Bishop of Amman, Benedict; and the Bishop of Irbid, Philoumenos, although the latter is an ethnic Jordanian Arab. At the end of June 2014, protesters in Irbid chanted, ‘Go, Bishop Philoumenos, you have already disappointed the hopes of the parish,’ ‘We do not want an Arab bishop who fights against the parish’s rights,’ and ‘We are all the tongue of truth, we are all monks, we are Christophoros!’ The protest in front of the bishopric of Amman seemed to have become violent, because pictures of the Patriarch were reportedly removed and smashed. Many of the protests also harshly criticised the Jordanian authorities for implementing the Patriarchate’s decision. According to Bassim Farraj, the governor sent the police to the monastery to ask Christophoros to leave for Jerusalem. The tribes and other participants in the protest at the monastery in Dibin in October 2014 denounced this move and signed a petition demanding the King correct the authorities’ decisions.
The June 2014 decision of the Holy Synod to relocate a local reform-minded cleric crystallised local Greek Orthodox anger and brought to the surface grievances pertaining to pastoral care, the question of Arab representation in the Patriarchate and the relationship between the community and the church as well as the issue of this community’s very identity as Greek Orthodox and/or Arab.
Maintaining Community Boundaries: The Issue of the Clergy
A recurrent theme regarding the conflict within the Greek Orthodox Patriarchate is the issue of ‘Arabising’ the Patriarchate. However, Bassim Farraj, president of the Orthodox Society, stressed that this was not the main demand: ‘We do not want Arabisation but fair representation and involvement in the decision-making process.’ Similarly, in their statement the four clerics criticising the Patriarchate rejected the allegations levelled against them under the slogan ‘a group of fanatical Orthodox wants to Arabise the Patriarchate of Jerusalem,’ instead insisting that their demand was ‘purely spiritual, pastoral, and canonical’. These four clerics expressed fears of its followers being ‘snatched away or driven to other sects and heresies’. These leaders, including the persons who signed the petition of the Orthodox Club, thus envisioned a church hierarchy that would not only fulfil the spiritual needs of the community, but also play important canonical and social roles (the latter including running schools and hospitals). The ‘Arab Orthodox Clergy for Revival’ demanded amongst other things a curriculum in Greek, Arabic and English at the seminary, greater autonomy for the bishops residing in their dioceses, a mixed synod and a reduction in the role of the Brotherhood. Both the demands of these clerics and those of key lay figures like Bassim Farraj and Raʾuf Abu Jabir concern real pastoral care, a restructuring of the Patriarchate to combat corruption, and control over finances. Raʾuf Abu Jabir specifically demanded a ‘real spiritual leadership, educational assistance, the removal of corrupt monks and transparency in the accounts’.
Although the actors in the struggle officially do not aim at ‘Arabising’ the church, the question of Arab, that is, local Jordanian and Palestinian, representation within the Patriarchate and its institutions—the Brotherhood of the Holy Sepulchre, the Holy Synod, the bishoprics—has been a sore point ever since the nineteenth century. This question is best approached by considering the presence in these various institutions of the Bishops Benedict and Philoumenos, on the one hand, and of the Jordanians Christophoros and Athanasios Qaqish, plus the Palestinians Bishop ʿAṭa Allah Ḥanna and Archimandrite Meletios Baṣal, on the other.
The Patriarchate of Jerusalem is run by the Brotherhood of the Holy Sepulchre, which, according to the Patriarchate’s website, comprises all ‘metropolitans, archbishops, bishops, archimandrites, hieromonks, deacons, monks and novices of the Patriarchate’. Archimandrite Christophoros and Athanasios Qaqish are not members of this order. The Greek bishops Benedict of Amman and Philoumenos of Irbid are members, as are two other figures in the Orthodox controversy of 2014, Palestinian Bishop ʿAṭa Allah Ḥanna and Palestinian Archimandrite Meletios Baṣal. The Holy Synod includes only two Arabs, one of whom is Bishop Philoumenos. Moreover, Benedict, the ethnic-Greek Bishop of Amman, is also part of the Holy Synod, whereas the Palestinian Bishop ʿAṭa Allah Ḥanna is not.
A third key issue is pastoral care, which is usually not provided by a bishop because, with a few exceptions, the bishops in this Patriarchate do not reside in their dioceses. Pastoral care is provided by so-called patriarchal management committees. There are currently five of these in Jordan, the most important run by Bishop Philoumenos of Irbid and Bishop Benedict of Amman. With the nomination of Bishop Philoumenos as Bishop of Irbid in 2013, Jordan did gain a local Arab Orthodox representative who actually resides in his diocese. However, during the author’s field research in April 2015, the name of Bishop Philoumenos never came up. According to the website of the Patriarchate, Bishop Philoumenos was born in 1970 in al-Fuḥayṣ, Jordan, served for six years in the Jordanian army, studied in Thessaloniki, was tonsured as a monk on Mount Athos, named a member of the Holy Synod in 2010 and finally elected bishop of Pella (Irbid) and appointed patriarchal commissioner in Irbid in 2013. In comparison, ʿAṭaʾ Allah Ḥanna, Bishop Theodosius by his Greek name, was born in 1965 in Galilee, also studied in Thessaloniki, and was the spokesman for the Patriarchate for some time before being elected bishop of Sebastia in 2005. Consequently, until the election of the Jordanian Bishop Philoumenos as bishop in 2013, Archimandrite Christophoros ʿAṭa Allah was the highest-ranking cleric in northern Jordan, acting as a de facto bishop, since he was the direct representative of the Patriarch, carrying out pastoral activities and empowered with judicial functions. Archimandrite Christophoros is a very important and popular local Jordanian figure: ‘We consider him almost a saint,’ stated Bassim Farraj. In 2007, he was named agent of the Patriarch for northern Jordan, comprising the areas of Irbid and Jarash amongst others. He was also deputy president of the ecclesiastical court before being deposed in 2010.
These brief biographies show that Bishop Philoumenos had far greater importance in the Patriarchate than Bishop ʿAṭa Allah Ḥanna. Philoumenos’ status is comparable to that of Bishop Benedict’s: both are bishops, both reside in Jordan, both are Patriarchal commissioners and members of the Holy Synod. By contrast, the four clerics in the 2014 conflict lack comparable rank, authority and leverage.
As a result, there is a persistent belief that the Patriarchate pursues a policy of marginalising the Arab community, hindering them from reaching high-ranking positions and joining the ranks of the Patriarchate. This alleged marginalisation is believed to occur, beginning with the training of the priests, which takes place in Greek outside of Jordan at the seminary on Mount Zion in Jerusalem and, for higher education, in Greece itself. Bishop Benedict listed ten young Jordanians he had sent to Greece to be trained as priests. It is theoretically possible to enrol for training at the University of Balamand in Lebanon, which is run by the Greek Orthodox Patriarchate of Antioch. But in practice this is not really an option, because there has been an ongoing and escalating conflict between the two Patriarchates over the jurisdiction of the diocese of Qatar, with Antioch claiming Qatar for itself, while the Patriarchate in Jerusalem elected a bishop, Bishop Makarios, to that diocese in 2013. Thus by enrolling at the University of Balamand, aspiring Palestinian and Jordanian priests risk their future in the church of Jerusalem. This issue was raised by the four clerics who demanded a ‘return of the bishops, priests, and monks to their churches’ and called for the establishment of a seminary in Arabic and English in addition to Greek.
The clergy is perceived as being instrumental in improving pastoral care as a means for maintaining community boundaries and the identity of the Greek Orthodox community. Besides the issue of pastoral care, there are also complaints about the education provided in the patriarchal schools, which the four clerics criticised as insufficient and resulting in the exodus of youth to Protestant and Latin schools and to their eventually joining those churches. Yet there are conflicting reports about who operates the services provided by the Church. Both Raʾuf Abu Jabir’s son, Marwan, and Bassim Farraj complained that the laity has to fix the churches, run the schools and help the destitute. Patriarch Theophilos III retorted that this is ‘totally untrue’, and members of the Patriarchate regularly advertise the initiatives undertaken and efforts made by the Church in this regard. On its website, it lists the erection of three churches, a polyclinic and a kindergarten and the restoration of several churches undertaken under the supervision of Bishop Benedict of Amman.
This perceived weakness in comparison with other Christian communities in Jordan is enhanced by the issue of community courts, which are presided over by the bishops of each community. In the case of the Greek Orthodox Church, there is no court of appeals in Jordan: it is located in Jerusalem, which makes it nearly impossible for a Greek Orthodox Jordanian to appeal a court decision. In 2014 Jordan passed a law which compelled ecclesiastical courts to have an appeals court in Jordan and that its language be Arabic. Yet no such an appeals court has yet been established. Furthermore, Bassim Farraj complained that the language of the Greek Orthodox ecclesiastical court is Greek and not Arabic. This complaint touches upon a key issue, the issue of language, and thus of communication between the clergy and the parish. It appears that both Patriarch Theophilos and Bishop Benedict are able to communicate in Arabic—if necessary.
This conflict over a genuine Arab clergy for providing a proper framework for the Greek Orthodox community results from the conflicting views on the role of the Patriarchate. Those in the Orthodox movement envision a much more active and pastoral role for it: Archimandrite Christophoros ascribed to the Patriarchate a role in preserving the Christian presence in the Middle East, and Raʾuf Abu Jabir described the Patriarchate as ‘a local institution for the benefit of the Arab community and the visitors (Greeks, Russians, Serbs)’. Patriarch Theophilos III, however, envisions the Church’s ‘mission and purpose … to be crystal clear and purely religious and spiritual’. P. J. Vatikiotis went even further when he quoted from within the Patriarchate, ‘The local community of Arab laity or otherwise is a secondary body which the Patriarchate benevolently kept alive and within the Church, and therefore infers that the Patriarchate never had a pastoral duty in the first place.
This desire for a clergy to which the Greek Orthodox community can relate but from which it presently feels estranged shows the latter’s deep attachment to this denomination. The protests of 2014 revealed how much the community and reform-minded clerics are aware of the spiritual, social and canonical role of the clergy, especially because this community seems to face decreasing participation. To a certain extent, the laity has come to fill this gap.
The ‘Ideal’ Arab Christian Community
The actors of the Orthodox struggle articulated their grievances around several issues and envisioned a community which, properly served by the clergy, would embody the ideal Arab Christian community in the Middle East. Besides the question of the nature and role of the Church, the Orthodox struggle also involves conflicting views about what this community is. The conflict has led to such controversy that the Arab actors no longer use the term ‘rum‘, the word usually used in Arabic to designate the Greek Orthodox Church and the one the Greek Orthodox Patriarchate of Antioch continues to use. Instead, as has been alluded to throughout this article, the Arab figures in the struggle use ‘Arab Orthodox Youth’, ‘the Arab Orthodox cause’. In Jordan ‘rum‘ is felt to suggest alienation. In its statement in June 2014, the ‘Arab Orthodox Clergy for Revival’ firmly declared, ‘We categorically reject the insinuations of Patriarch Theophilos that we are Greek remnants in our countries. No, we are genuine Arabs, Jordanians, and Palestinians.’ In fact, the Patriarchate has apparently cultivated the idea that the local Greek Orthodox are actually Arabised Greeks. In an interview, Patriarch Theophilos III stated, ‘The name of the Patriarchate and all Eastern Orthodox Christians locally is “Rum”. This is how they are recognised and identified by the Muslim Arabs and Palestinians.’ Thus for the Patriarch, the Orthodox issue is a ‘matter of cultural identity or identity crisis’. Yet this insistence on an Arab identity is not only the result of a reaction to the perceived ‘Greek occupation’ of the Patriarchate and a subtle reminder to Muslims that the Christians are the original inhabitants of the region. Rather, this reveals a deep attachment to the Arab identity. Bassim Farraj affirmed the importance of this designation:
We call ourselves Arab Christians because our roots are deeply rooted in this area, the Holy Land. My family goes back to old times, originally to Jerusalem and this is where my family, my father, my grandfather, my mother, were born and in 1948 emigrated.
A local young Greek Orthodox talking to the author recalled a time he interrupted a priest to ask him to say a prayer in Arabic and not in Greek, as this prayer was very dear to him.
The proclaimed attachment to an Arab identity is also closely connected to a strong anti-sectarian and pro-Palestinian position. This identification with Arabism and anti-sectarianism sets Greek Orthodox Jordanians apart from other Christian communities, who instead carve out a difference to assert their presence. In 1992 the fifth Orthodox Congress stated, ‘Our national belonging precedes our confessional (ṭaʾifi) belonging.’ Similarly, the Orthodox struggle is closely connected to the Palestinian struggle, using the same arguments: according to Raʾuf Abu Jabir, ‘The Orthodox issue was always considered part of the great Arab cause,’ which is the Palestinian cause. In formulating this assertion, anti-colonial wording is used: ‘It is a just national cause … resisted by all colonialising and racist forces,’ stated the fifth Orthodox Congress. In their statement in December 2014, the ‘Arab Orthodox Youth’ implored King Abdullah II to ‘intervene quickly and do Father Christophoros justice as well as the Arab Orthodox parish against the tyranny and the historical and real defamation by the Greek coloniser [underlined by the author].’ Raʾuf Abu Jabir clearly connected these two questions: ‘the question of Arab identity as a reminder that there is Greek aggression’.
All these elements comprise the ‘ideal citizen’, who is also entirely loyal to the Hashemite monarchy. In particular Bassim Farraj insisted on being a good and loyal citizen—’I love the King’—and hinted that he was just then filling in his tax income. The protests of 2014 harshly criticised the Jordanian authorities and government, but never targeted King Abdullah II, who was instead called on to ‘correct’ the perceived injustices. Since 1948 Jordan has intervened in many incidents of the Orthodox struggle. They have issued several laws concerning the Greek Orthodox community, the latest being that concerning the establishment of courts of appeal in Jordan. Yet neither the law of 1958 decreeing that the Patriarch be a Jordanian national nor the law of 2014 about the court of appeals have ever been implemented. In 2005, Jordan refused to recognise Theophilos III unless he implemented the 1958 law. In 2014 the authorities intervened again to relocate Christophoros. In this way Jordan appears to be a strong participant in the controversy, whereas in fact its leverage is limited.
Conclusion
The series of protests in 2014 against a decision by the Holy Synod targeting reform-minded Jordanian (and Palestinian) clerics highlighted the many layers of the Orthodox struggle. The decision of the Patriarchate was most likely about maintaining control over the monastery for novices in northern Jordan directed by Christophoros, which played an important pastoral role for the local community and eventually might have been turned into a seminary. However, the protests against the Patriarchate were decentralised, lacked clear leadership and only gradually engaged the leaders of the community—tribes, MPs, actors of the Orthodox struggle. Besides the Patriarchate, the protests also targeted its representatives in Jordan, including Bishop Philoumenos, although he is an ethnic Jordanian.
The core of the various grievances formulated in 2014 but originating in the nineteenth century revolved around the issue of a clergy to which the community can fully relate, because this clergy not only plays an important spiritual and social role—due to Jordanian legislation—but is considered instrumental in maintaining the cohesion and identity of the Greek Orthodox community. The depth of the estrangement is underscored by the fact that the nomination of an ethnic Jordanian, Philoumenos, as bishop of Irbid, who actually resides in his diocese, did not change the situation.
However, part of the problem is the particular situation of the Patriarchate of Jerusalem, which makes a solution even more difficult. The presence of Christian holy sites within its jurisdiction complicates the role the church could play and has led some of its representatives to highlight its spiritual—and temporal—role. In addition, the Israeli—Palestinian conflict and the fact that the Patriarchate has to work with Israel adds a geopolitical dimension to the conflict. Nevertheless, the Greek Orthodox community has retained enough economic and social leverage to question the Patriarchate’s position.
The extent of the estrangement shows the deep attachment of the community in Jordan to a Christian identity that is both Greek Orthodox and Arab. The perception of a corrupt and estranged clergy has compelled the laity to fill this gap and play a tremendous role in the maintenance of Greek Orthodox community boundaries and the articulation of a genuine Orthodox and Arab identity. The role of the laity is significantly enhanced by its particular situation in Jordan, which contrasts with that of the laity in other countries in the region where political and socio-economic developments in recent decades have eroded the role the laity could play in maintaining and defining a Christian identity.
As a result, the Orthodox issue in Jordan greatly enhances our understanding of how a Christian identity in an Islamic context comes to be negotiated and formulated. Heretofore the Muslim environment and their status as a minority has indeed informed Christian views about themselves and their surroundings. In our case, however, the ‘other’ is not the Muslim (who is almost absent). Besides, the churches have played a key role. Recent works on the renewal movement within the Coptic Orthodox Church have illuminated the dynamics of the ecclesiological framework of the community, infusing the latter with a specific narrative. The Jordanian case, and in particular the Greek Orthodox case, suggests a key role for the laity, on both a high-ranking level (Raʾuf Abu Jabir, Bassim Farraj) and by the community in general (because the protests in 2014 lacked clear leadership), not only involving social activism, but also taking place through an attachment to the Greek Orthodox faith. The Greek Orthodox engagement produces a narrative about this Greek Orthodox denomination that sharply contrasts with narratives usually associated with Christians in the Middle East. This narrative incorporates Arabism as an evident and authentic identity, disconnected from Islamic references and associated with a non-sectarian position and a deep commitment to the Hashemite monarchy as another core element and a guarantee of their presence in the region. Through their engagement in the Orthodox issue, the Greek Orthodox community in Jordan claims to embody the ‘ideal’ Christian community in the Middle East.