Chapter Four: Look, You're Anxious Again.

Coman rose and made a gesture of invitation, then took a seat along one side of the corridor that stretched from the grand entrance, facing the two leaders of the Arab Social Renaissance Party—still close allies for now, though destined to part ways in the future.

In the years to come, the Arab Social Renaissance Party would seize power in two countries: Syria and Iraq. Yet these two regimes would be adversaries, divided by differing spiritual leaders. Syria’s spiritual guide was Salah al-Din Bitar, while Iraq’s was Michel Aflaq.

At this moment, however, the two men remained inseparable, envisioning a glorious future of Syrian—and even Arab—unity. Coman had done his homework, holding in his hands the books published by the two leaders. Breaking the silence, he said, “Mr. Bitar, Mr. Aflaq, this is our second meeting.”

“Coman, I didn’t expect you would represent General Foch,” Aflaq said slowly, taken aback. Indeed, it was their second meeting, but he hadn’t imagined that Coman’s father had left and that Coman would now stand in for the current French Syrian commander.

“My father and General Foch are both true soldiers,” Coman explained calmly. “They have little interest in political parties or the future political landscape of Syria.”

“One should be fully committed when called upon—does this really need more explanation?” He reiterated, “To be clear, the governor’s office has no real interest in your political agenda. Otherwise, your activities would certainly be suppressed. But I believe you understand that is not the case.”

“Frankly, we support a modern party bringing prosperity to Syria after the French withdrawal, especially since both of you studied in Paris. Although relations with France are not entirely intimate, there remains some connection.”

Coman finished his account with an indifferent expression. Bitar and Aflaq fell silent. Though young, Coman had left a strong impression on them. Their last meeting had shown that sincerity was his trump card, unlike the usual colonialists. Coman’s respect was genuine, engaging them in honest dialogue.

It was precisely because of this previous encounter that General Foch entrusted Coman with the task of conversing with Bitar and Aflaq—at least he was a familiar face.

“Coman, regarding the post-French withdrawal issue…” Aflaq, meticulous in appearance and dressed in Western style—reflective of his membership in the Greek Orthodox Antioch Church—began to speak.

“Let’s skip that topic,” Coman interrupted with a slight shake of his head. “The plan is set and will be executed. Moreover, after we leave, the Christians within Syria will depart alongside us. This was mutually agreed upon when General de Gaulle visited Damascus.”

In any case, over the coming decades, Christians, a minority in the Middle East, would leave due to ongoing turmoil. Even though France carved out Lebanon before departing, the Maronite population’s growth lagged behind the Druze, leading to a loss of control over Lebanon. It was better to leave decisively.

The eagerness of various Christian sects in Syria and neighboring regions to enlist was not solely thanks to Coman’s persuasion.

There were consequences as well: these Christians accepted the notion that they were descendants of the Crusaders, while also facing possible reprisals or oppression after Syrian independence due to the majority’s resentment.

Because of these realities, after de Gaulle’s departure, French Syria began conscription. Even Maronite Christians had no choice but to enlist enthusiastically under promises of citizenship. Without this, the Christian populations of Syria, Lebanon, Palestine, and parts of Iraq combined could not muster 250,000 troops. Including the Alawite sect, the number would exceed 250,000.

For France, the greatest current issue was population. They were willing to do whatever it took to increase their numbers. Though some problems existed with Syrian Christians, they were the most suitable demographic supplement.

This was also discussed when de Gaulle arrived in Damascus. War was not the greatest problem; the real question was what France would do afterward.

The Christians of French Syria could solve part of France’s dilemma; it was unthinkable to let this group’s value go untapped.

For de Gaulle, then contesting with General Giraud for control over the National Committee, encountering such unwavering confidence—already certain of the Allies’ ultimate victory—was a powerful morale boost.

The staunch support from French forces in Syria eventually made de Gaulle contemplate the issue deeply. By the following year, as the Soviet-German front had stalemated and victory seemed inevitable, de Gaulle had already settled plans for resettling these Syrian Christians before Coman’s father departed.

Upon hearing this, Aflaq immediately objected. “How is this any different from the triangular trade?”

“You’re impatient again,” Coman said with a sideways glance, piercing through Aflaq’s thoughts. “As a colonial political activist of your rank, you technically have no authority to question France’s decisions. But to satisfy your curiosity, I’ll explain.”

“I know you are a Greek Orthodox believer and need supporters. But the Christian inclination clearly favors France, and no amount of persuasion will change that because it’s too late. Saint Maron is a figure of French history. In this region, most Druze harbor historical grievances related to the Crusades. Even if not now, future provocations could easily ignite sectarian conflicts—not necessarily by France, but possibly by Britain or the United States.”

“Everyone is swept up in the tides of history. People like you, Aflaq, through effort or luck, find themselves at the crest of the wave. At the crest, there is limitless glory and temptation. It’s up to you what you make of it.”

In a sense, the actions of Coman and his father in securing citizenship for these Christians undermined Aflaq’s followers, but considering the decades ahead, Coman did not regret their choices.

Before Aflaq could respond, Coman rose and turned his back to them. Sunlight streamed through the stained glass high in the chapel, illuminating his face.

“Looking to the future is less clear than looking to the past. I do not deny the brilliance of ancient Arab civilization. I genuinely believe that if the Industrial Revolution—such an improbable event—had not occurred, the current global religious landscape would be entirely different. But that event did happen, and it shaped today’s reality. From a pragmatic standpoint, you should accept it.”

“Coman… Warrant Officer,” Salah al-Din Bitar opened his mouth, staring at the young man who had turned away.

“Mr. Bitar,” Coman turned back, shielding his face from the sunlight, leaving only a shadow in Bitar’s eyes, “I hope for the emergence of a modern party in Syria. But don’t cause me trouble. And… may I speak frankly? What I say might hurt you.”