1915’te midyat’ın aynvert köyünde süryanilerin bir katliama kurban gitmesini engellemiş ve arabuluculuk yapıp barışı sağlamış.
william dalrymple’ın from the holy mountain kitabından:
“it was mar hadbashabo who saved us!” shouted the old priest. “the saint was wearing white clothes and attacking at the front of the christians, throwing the muslims back from the barricades of ein wardo. at evening time he stood on the church tower. we all saw him, even the muslims, those sons of unmarried mothers! at first they tried to shoot him, thinking he was a priest, but the bullets went straight through him. then they thought he was a djinn. only towards the end of the siege, only after three years, did they realise he was a saint.” “let's go back to the beginning,” i said. “what were relations with the muslims like before the war?” “they were not good,” said the old man. “but before the war nobody was ever killed. in those days the kurds were in the hills and the christians were near the towns. we lived separately. but we were always fearful of what might happen, so as the war approached we began to sell our animals and buy guns. we had more than three thousand. they were old-fashioned matchlocks, ones that you had to light with a fuse, but they did the job. we melted down all our copper pots to make shot; the monks melted down their plate. we collected together a good stock of wheat. when the war broke out, and the turks told the kurds to go and massacre all the christians, we were ready. by night all the chris-tian villagers came to ein wardo. they came from midyat, kefr salah, arnas, bote, kefr zeh, zaz mzizah, basa brin. in the village there were about 160 houses. by the time everyone had gathered there were at least twenty families in every house. [...] we built walls between the houses so that the village looked like a fort,” he continued. “then we dug tunnels so that we could, go from house to house without getting shot by the muslims. the strongpoint was the church, and on the roof we had a cannon that we had captured from the turks in midyat. they came after fourteen days: around twelve thousand otto-man troops and perhaps thirteen thousand kurds - irregulars who just wanted to join in the plunder. any christian left outside ein wardo was killed. many were too slow and did not make it. in arnas the kurds captured thirty-five pretty girls. they locked them into the church, hoping to take them out and rape them one by one. but there was a deep well in the courtyard. all the girls chose to jump in rather than lose their virginity to the muslims.” “did your supplies last for the whole siege?' 'the first summer we were not hungry. but by the middle of the winter things began to be difficult. we ran out of salt and people became ill for the lack of it. one group of about a hundred people tried to escape at night to get some salt from midyat and enhil. they were ambushed. most of them got back, but fifteen people, including one of my brothers, never came back. that winter ı lost my sister too. she went outside the barricades to fetch wood. the muslims were hiding behind rocks. they captured her and cut her throat. that night ı found her. her head was separated from her body. ı was twelve years old then.' the old man's head dropped, and ı thought for a minute that he, like fr. tomas the previous evening, was going to burst into tears. but after a minute's silence he recovered himself, and ı asked if he had fought in the defence of ein wardo himself. 'they thought ı was too young to hold a gun, but they let me collect stones to drop down the mountain slopes. ı did my bit. there was plenty of opportunity. the first year the attack was very strong. once ı remember it was so strong that people ran away from the walls and began to retreat to the church, which was built with four very strong towers that could be held if every-thing else fell. but the monks, our leaders, threatened to shoot anyone who ran away, and in the end the defences held. 'that winter was very hard. one loaf of bread would go to each family per day, which meant that there was only one piece for each person. many were wounded, but there was only one doctor; he did what he could, but most of the wounded had to rely on the old men who knew about roots and herbal remedies. but we never gave up. we had heard that the british had landed in ıraq, and we all believed they would come to rescue us. of course nothing happened, but the hope of relief kept us from despair.' 'the christians of the west have never done anything for us,' said bedros, rolling a cigarette with his right hand, and spitting out the spare tobacco with a loud gob into the corner. 'the turks help other muslims if they are in trouble in azerbaijan or in bosnia, but the christians of europe have never shown any feelings for their brothers in the tur abdin.' 'the worst hunger was the following year,' continued the old priest, ignoring his son's interruption. 'during the siege no one could grow anything, so supplies were almost exhausted. ı remem-ber that second winter we were permanently hungry, and would eat anything: lizards, beetles, even the worms in the ground. 'but the muslims were also growing hungry, and in 1917 disease - cholera ı think - struck their camp. god willed it that we did not get the disease in ein wardo; somehow we were spared. the attacks grew less and less and gradually we became brave. at night we began to break out and attack their camp. once we attacked the ottoman barracks in midyat.' 'you can still see the bulletholes,' said yacoub. 'after three years,' continued abouna shabo, swiping at the bluebottles which were trying to settle on his face, 'they despaired of ever conquering us and said that we were being protected by our saints, mar gabriel, john the arab and especially mar hadbashabo. eventually a famous imam, sheikh fatullah of ein kaf, came to the muslim army and said he would try to make peace between the two sides. the muslims asked the sheikh to say "give up your guns," but the sheikh, who was an honourable man, advised us not to surrender all our weapons. 'ın the end we handed over three hundred of our guns. the sheikh gave us his son as a hostage and said we should kill him if the muslims broke their word. he then went on his donkey to diyarbakir and took a written order from the pasha-commander that the soldiers and the kurds should leave. ı will never forget the sight of the ottoman army taking down their tents and march-ing away down the valley towards midyat. 'we gave the sheikh back his son, saying we could not bear to kill the son of such a man, even if the ottomans did break their word. before the siege there were three kurdish families living in ein wardo. when the fighting began we sent them away, but afterwards we welcomed them back. after that we lived together in peace and had no more trouble from the muslims.'
