A Symbol of Unity: The Rehabilitation of the Mar Behnam Monastery in Iraq

Sarah Hugounenq

“You have to be something of an adventurer to carry off a project like this,” says Guillaume de Beaurepaire, smiling at the memory. A young graduate of the École Nationale Supérieure d’Architecture de Versailles, this Frenchman was called upon to tackle an extraordinary challenge in 2017: the rehabilitation of the Mar Behnam Mausoleum, a highly symbolic site that had crumbled into ruins on the Nineveh plain. “I wasn’t rebuilding a museum or a 13th century historical monument, but a place of spiritual life, a meeting point for a set of populations,” the architect adds. Until 2015, Syriac Christians would spend the day, and sometimes the night here, holding large picnics at what was the most important example of medieval Christian art in Mesopotamia. Muslim populations joined them during festivities, as did Yazidis, for whom the human-made hill against which the tomb of Saint Behnam is built bears the presence of the prophet al-Khidhr. These interfaith gatherings were not the forte of Daesh. After driving out the Ephremite monks, they destroyed the Mausoleum with explosives over one day in April 2015. Following the village’s liberation, in 2016, Mgr Yohanna Petros Mouche, the Syriac Catholic Archbishop of the Mosul diocese, discovered a heap of rubble. “Mar Behnam is a unique monastery, a symbol of coexistence, of brotherhood, in a region with all religions, beliefs, and ethnicities – Muslim, Christian, Kaka’i, and even Yazidis. This is why we wanted to protect this site and rebuild it at all costs,” he reveals.

The spiritual leader’s wish sparked an operation that mirrored the spirit of the site: emblematic and symbolic of unity among peoples. The restoration team included a French architect; an Iraqi archaeologist, Abdelsalam Seman, a Christian from Qaraqosh; workers from the largely Sunni village of Khidhr, who in 2016 helped clear out and sort 600 m³ of rubble; an Iraqi military unit tasked with removing remaining explosives, and more. “Our organization’s mission is not to protect heritage, but to help Iraqis live in their country with dignity,” explains Margaux Besson of the organization Fraternité en Irak, the group that led the project in the field.

“Daesh wanted to divide the region, set populations against one another. Rebuilding Mar Behnam was symbolic: by helping Christians recover their sanctuary, we were helping everybody and rebuilding unity in Iraq. We kicked off the adventure without a proper budget. What mattered was getting started. ALIPH’s support was decisive.”

Margaux Besson, Secretary General, Fraternité en Irak

The building project encompassed all of the qualities necessary to attract the Geneva-based foundation. Led by an adaptable humanitarian organization strongly rooted in the field, the project was executed with uncommon speed – in under two years. Despite the delicacy of the interlaced cut stones, the modernity of the geometrical motifs sometimes embellished with prayers and the delicacy of the carved votive plates, a message of appeasement, security, and economic revival defined the project more strongly than its heritage-related aspects. The first religious building that the bishop wished to reconstruct, when the priority all around was placed on residents’ houses, Mar Behnam helped regenerate the activity of local artisans, relegated to begging under Daesh. Through a system of loans and commissions, Fraternité en Irak helped relaunch business for a metalworker, who made the cross at the summit, and a carpenter for the Monastery’s doors. “For these artisans, getting back to work represented more than good fortune, it was a source of pride,” Besson acknowledges. In keeping with projects taken on by ALIPH, the operation’s scope transcended heritage alone and incorporated its environment. This resolve imbued the smallest details. To preserve the soul of a place charged with history and meaning, the Iraqi archaeologist proposed recycling bricks from ruined 19th-century houses in Qaraqosh, where the workers lived, in order to avoid an ordinary, new construction.

The image is strong: reconciliation and stabilization of the region from within. Deeply rooted in its territory, an undertaking such as this one is nevertheless far from local. “Beyond funding, ALIPH was an extraordinary lever for spotlighting this project on the international stage,” Besson analyzes. “Awareness of projects like this is important: they embody peace and humanism.”