The Wandering Beggar who Impersonated Jesus

The Wandering Beggar who Impersonated Jesus

fiction
edward w pritchard

I went insane from February 25, 1922 until September 09, 1922 after which God relieved me from the burden of my madness.

During that time between February and September 1922 I walked around the Pontus region of what is now Turkey in a long red robe and I thought I was Jesus Christ. While I walked those eight months the entire coast line along Anatolia [Turkey] on the Black Sea was suffering from war, atrocities, and genocide.

I was born a Sunni Muslim, and am now a Sunni Muslim. When I returned from last nights fishing for anchovies on the Black Sea, I saw that our village and several others along the coast were ablaze. Once ashore I was part of the terror and chaos evident all across the Pontus region. For several years the soldiers of the Turkish National movement had been at war with Armenians and Greeks near Tribizon and others areas of Anatolia. My wife was Greek Orthodox and I feared gravely for her safety.

When I arrived at the shore my house had been doused with kerosene and burned to the ground and my wife was dead. I fished from my brother-in -laws boat and as I ran to the boat for assistance, the boat was wildly burning and my brother-in-law was dead also. In a five minute period everything I cared about had been destroyed. The only thing I had left in the world were the clothes on my back and they smelled of anchovies from the nights fishing. I was however not alone in my grief and misery, for more than twenty villages had been torched and thousands were said to be dead because of the soldiers.

The Greco-Turkish War had been going on since 1919. The Greeks had fought with the victorious British in World War One and the Greeks had been promised as spoils of War large tracts of land in Turkey. The Ottoman empire that had ruled Turkey for hundreds of years had allied themselves with the losing side, the Germans and the antiquated corpse of the Ottoman empire was collapsing at the end of the first world war. As the Allies partitioned Turkey our great leader Mustafa Kemal [Atatürk] in a series of counter attacks over several years successfully established the counter movement to restore a Turkish State. Following the defensive stage of the wars with Britain Greece and others, the Turkish forces began a series of offensive campaigns to drive the Greeks and some say the Armenians, an ancient ethnic group, off Turkish soil. The Western newspapers began to call the war genocide against the Greeks, the Greek Diaspora, and of course our people called it the War of Turkish Liberation. There were numerous atrocities by all soldiers but by the time of my wife's death most of the brutality was done by Turks against other Turkish ethnic groups such as the Greeks and Armenians living in Turkey sometimes for hundreds of years. In the end the Turkish Liberation was successful, the allies were driven out and the defunct Ottoman Empire was succeeded by the Republic of Turkey.

In February 1922 the war evolved to a series of the campaigns against the Greeks in the Pontus region along the Black Sea. Both sides fought like a fierce family feud, but the remaining Greeks had no organized army in the area, and the horror and cruelty of the campaign was indescribable and should remain unmentionable, except to say that our ancient relatives in this area, the Hittites, could have done no worse at being savage and brutal in the campaign against civilians.

The man who had been ultimately responsible for the terror resulting in my wife's death and the burning of the villages on February 22 was Nureddin Pasha. The western newspapers, sympathetic to the Greeks of course, called Pasha brutal and ruthless, but he was an effective leader in the Liberation's cause. He sent soldiers with orders to arrest me as I stood in front of my burning house. I was suspected as a Greek sympathizer because of wife being a Greek Orthodox and me working on a Greek owned fishing boat.

Some of the soldiers sent to arrest me knew me and took pity on me because of the horror and terror of my situation. Since I smelled of anchovies from the fishing they allowed me to wash and brought me a red robe to change into that had been left by another prisoner at the temporary jail. I had been up all night from the anchovy fishing and after they gave me a little water i dropped into a deep sleep.

I awoke when Nureddin Pasha himself entered my cell to interrogate me. I was not afraid, for I had a sense of calm like I had never experienced before and I believed myself to be Jesus Christ. My wife was a religious person and in our twelve years of marriage told me about Christianity, sometimes read examples from the bible to me, and often told me about the sermon on the mount. Although I have always been a Sunni Muslim, before I met my wife I was not a religious man, and now I am ashamed to say, I was at times, especially in my youth, a man who did not live up to the ideals and ethical teachings of the Muslim religion or the little my wife told me of her religion. My wife after our marriage encouraged me to be a good practicing Muslim and never attempted to proselytize me. I am sorry to report however, that after our marriage, and in spite of the piety of my wife as a Greek Christian, I failed to live up to the standards of the example of religious and ethical conduct provided by other Sunni Muslims in our village and on the Anchovy fishing boats. My entire adult life I was a often a vulgar course man concerned only with my own interests.

Pasha knew I was a Muslim and I don't think he suspected me of treason or being a sympathizer. Although he was ruthless in battle on a one to one level he was reasonable in his conversation and told me he was sorry for my wife's death, a terrible tragedy of the war.

I replied, speaking as Jesus, that many had died today and there were many now living who had lost more loved ones than I had. This seemed to strike a cord with Pasha. I continued we must all pray for peace to come immediately. Pasha asked me if I was a holy man. I replied no, I am only a fisherman who wanted peace and tranquility to return to the Black Sea area and Pontus [ our homeland] in particular.

Nureddin Pasha asked me to travel with his army to provide comfort and solace to those injured on all sides of the necessary but brutal war. The man called a butcher by Western newspapers was asking me to provide humanitarian aide. I was being asked to travel with the man and his army responsible for my wife's death. At some level I knew I was not Jesus Christ, but I decided to go to where I could do the most good and I decided to follow the Liberation Army as a soldier of peace.

I told Pasha I would go but I also told him I was not Strau the Anchovy fisherman but was Jesus Christ. Pasha no doubt thought I was in shock from my wife's death. Pasha, himself a Muslim, then asked me to bless him despite his failings; which I did.

Pasha ordered me released from jail, had me fed and provided with some of the necessities of life, and I was ready to travel; although I continued to wear the red robe and now believed I was Jesus Christ.

end part 1

Part 2

As I traveled with the soldiers of the Turkish National Movement under the persona of Jesus Christ, wearing the red robe, I kept very busy with my humanitarian efforts. Following only the few dictates that I remembered from what my dead wife had taught me such as blessed are the meek, blessed are they who mourn, blessed are the peacemakers and blessed are those who hunger and thirst; I filled my days with attending to the injured, sick, broken hearted and those displaced by war. All around me thousands were dieing and each waking hour I was immersed in providing comfort to the multitudes of suffering people regardless of creed, nationality or culpability. Although I didn't fight, or know of the battle plans or objectives of the aggressive armies, I was always the first to assist the injured. I would work following a battle or campaign, throughout the summer of 1922 , until I would collapse from exhaustion. I always put others above myself, never judged and I counseled Greeks, Armenians and Turks. If a young soldier couldn't sleep or suffered from nightmares because of what he had heard or done I would sit with him, give him water and seek to provide comfort. Of particular concern to me was the suffering of children of which there was much and I was fearless and tireless in my efforts to bring them solace.

Often when Nureddin Pasha's soldiers would join with other freedom fighter, other soldiers would seek to stop my giving aid and comfort to their enemies and they often threatened me with death. I was by now not afraid to die, due to the death of my wife, my having taking on the persona of Jesus Christ and I no longer cared what happened to myself. However, Pasha himself would often come to my aide and censure my critics. Pasha felt that my efforts were God's work; he and his men handled the horrible work of war, I alone was to do the work of mercy. This continued for eight months until September 09, 1922.

In the ancient town of Smyrna [ formerly Izmir home of the world's most beautiful mosaic tile] a death occurred which roused me from my delusion that I was Jesus Christ. It was a terrible tragedy, true only one man had died but when I heard of the horrible death of one man; my true self and identity exploded back into being and I was again Strau and not Jesus.

Kafafatis, known as Chrysostomes of Smyrna was a Greek holy man and an orthodox preacher. When the Turkish liberation recaptured Smyrna in a ten day period in September 1922 many terrible things happened. It is difficult to assign blame for there had been three years of terror between the Turks and Greeks prior to the ten day period. Now however, it was Greeks turn to suffer. Chrysostomes was an out spoken critic of the Turks and rather than let the Western press in Ireland or Athens criticize the Turkish Liberation Army from a safe distance, Chrysostomes chose to do it from the pulpit. Chrysostomes was captured, tortured in a barber chair in a particularly brutal and macabre fashion and left to die in an alley. When I heard later that night of what had happened I was immediately a man again and not Jesus Christ. I was not judging anyone but I was no longer Jesus.

When I asked my section leader in the Liberation army for permission to return to my home village he said he that would have to be cleared with Nureddin Pasha, for I was a favorite of his, and he was a powerful and influential man.

I went to see Pasha the next day at a small tavern in Captured Smyrna, being used as a temporary courtroom. Pasha was interrogating a young Greek boy when I walked in and the boy's Mother was kneeling fearful in the rear of the tavern for fear of the fate of her son.

I listened from the rear of the room, sitting next to the Mother:

Pasha: "you threw an egg at my soldiers yesterday, but had bad aim and missed"

Boy: defiantly, "yes General"

Pasha; "better than a rock I suppose"

boy: calming down "yes sir"

Pasha" " do you study hard at school?"

boy "when I can there is much interruption by the fighting"

Pasha: "good study hard, I never was able to continue my education something I regret. You may go but don't throw things at my soldiers."

Pasha seeing me next to the Mother: "Strau my friend I hear you want my leave my command, Have I done something to offend you too, my only friend I have left." He laughed an ancient sad laugh and then continued:

Pasha again: " I have lost control of my men" why did they have to kill him in a barber's chair" [ pasha was called the bearded for he was once the only modern Otttoman officer with a beard]

Pasha: again "Strau i know little of Christianity but it seems I am now the devil, everything evil that is done is blamed on me"

Me speaking " Pasha I am no longer Jesus Christ or a christian"

Pasha: "Pity you were a comfort to many"

Pasha: "Where will you go"

me: "back to my village"

Him "i am afraid not much is left of that area"

Pasha: "Here take this- you were my only soldier who never looted or complained for more pay, in fact your section leader tells me you have never been paid, it is not right for me to not pay my only soldier of peace, please take this from me to start your life again"

Pasha gave me a moderate amount of silver, which i took.

Pasha: "could you do me one favor my friend?"

me: "if i can"

he: "bless me again"

me "i am no longer Jesus"

he: "then bless me as a Muslim"

me: "i am afraid i don't know our religion well enough to know if it is permitted"

he: "then bless me as a fisherman"

me: "i bless you Nureddin Pasha"

I left Smyrna and returned to the Black sea Coast near my old village. There I lived as a wandering beggar until June 23, 1923 when the treaty of Lusanne was signed officially ending World War One for the Ottoman Empire and marking the birth of modern Turkey. One of the provisions was all of the Greeks along the Black Sea [ and elsewhere] were repatriated to Greece and the Turks from Greece came back to our country. Most leaving or returning lost everything. I was one of the only Turks in our area who spoke Greece, which I of course had learned from my wife, and on her brother's fishing boat. So i again gave humanitarian aid to the new arrivals as a translator and go between since the native Turks along the Black Sea had difficulty understanding the returning Turks because of their heavy Greek accent.

After a few months of dealing in the day to day world of business for the new arrivals I decided to become an anchovy fisherman again; something that I still do many years later. I often sit on the anchovy boat at night and study the Koran. As i watch the nets, and the stars, if it is bright because of the illumination of the stars or the moon; I take the opportunity to learn a little of the beauty of the Muslim religion and the exquisite language of the Koran.

Our country of Turkey is united again after years of violence. As i stare at the distant stars, I often pray to and thank God, speaking as Strau the anchovy fisherman, that there is peace and tranquility again along the coast of the Black Sea and in the Pontus region of modern Turkey.