Easter Sunday 2019 in Damascus is a day that has stayed with me—both for its beauty and the terrible news from Sri Lanka: 253 people had been killed there in coordinated attacks on three churches. The terrorists were linked to ISIS, a group that had only recently been defeated in Syria. As I entered the Maronite Church that morning, I couldn’t shake off the thought that something similar could happen here.But that uneasy feeling gave way as the service went on. The singing was beautiful and powerful.
Easter Sunday in Damascus
Later, I wandered through the streets of Old Damascus, where Easter celebrations were in full swing. Marching bands filled the streets, and Christian families, all dressed up, gathered proudly—waving and photographing their children in uniform. There was a sense of normalcy that felt almost unreal. The war had only ended a year earlier, although the fighting had never fully reached Damascus.
Syria was one of the first places in the world to have a Christian community – the community is mentioned in the Book of Acts and St Paul’s famous conversion on the road to Damascus.
Christians predominately live in and around the cities of Damascus, Aleppo, Homs, Hama, Latakia
Easter Sunday in Damascus
More than 120 churches and Christian places of worship were destroyed during the civil war.
Before the war began in 2011, around 1.5 million Christians—about 10% of Syria’s population—lived in the country, from Greek Catholic to Armenian Orthodox and everything in between. Estimates suggest that number may have dropped to as few as 300,000.
But the main reason why Christian families have left Syria is not persecution, but the deteriorating living conditions, lack of employment or education opportunities, and escalating living costs due to super inflation.
Orthodox Armenian Church, Damascus
Mass in Armenian Church
Easter parade in Damaskus
One Armenian band stood out; their armbands were a reminder of the Armenian Genocide.
Apart from the marches and different rituals, people watching was the other highlight. It was a cold April day—no more than 7°C—but many of the girls wore short skirts and sleeveless blouses. I, on the other hand, couldn’t keep up with the local “dress code” and wore pajamas under my jeans just to stay warm.
Easter Sunday outfit at 8 degree Celsius
Christians of Damascus joining the Easter Sunday procession
Proud parents waving and taking photos of their parading children in uniform.
During the processions, security was tight, heavily armed soldiers everywhere. I did not know if this was normal Routine or a reaction to the attack on Christian churches in Sri Lanka that very morning. This cowardly act of terror was one more reason to attend the ceremonies. Never be guided by fear.
Soldiers protecting the Christians parading
I discovered a small restaurant in a back alley. Inside, the Armenian community was celebrating intensely—food, arak, singing, dancing, and shishas. I was served enough food for four people, along with arak. Then something really funny happened: a small girl approached me, smiled, and said “nastrovje.”
Armenian run restaurant on Easter Sunday
Armenian restaurant on Easter Sunday
When I returned in 2023, the atmosphere felt different—less raw. The celebrations had changed too: outfits were flashier, and rabbit costumes had become a trend.
Easter Sunday in Damaskus in 2023
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