By The Associated Press
10.19.2009 8:52am EDT
(Nicosia, Cyprus) The two couples
had never met each other, and probably never would. They had come from opposite
sides of a border between longtime enemies.
In the Middle East, civil marriage
doesn’t exist and no religious authority will perform an interfaith wedding.
Lebanon and Israel are different in that they recognize civil marriages as long
as they’re performed abroad, and the closest venue abroad is Cyprus, 150 miles
from Lebanon and 230 miles from Israel. So this little island, which
claims to be the birthplace of Aphrodite, the Greek goddess of love, has made
mixed marriages something of an industry. Its municipalities charge around $415
for express processing and $190 for others, while travel agencies in both
Lebanon and Israel offer packages including travel, luxury hotel, marriage fees
and flowers for the bride. Last year, by Cyprus government
count, 523 couples from Lebanon and 1,533 from Israel were married here. Wakim, 39, and Ghamloush, 33, met
at work, fell in love and decided to marry. Their problem was, he’s a Maronite
Christian, she’s a Baha’i. So Cyprus was their best bet. Their wedding at City Hall in
Nicosia, the capital, was quick and unadorned. A photocopier next to the
Wedding Room whirred and creaked as municipal workers handled paperwork. The
groom slipped outside for a quick smoke in the parking lot. Then the marriage officer arrived,
recited his lines in English, and the couple exchanged vows. It was over in 10
minutes. They snapped a few photos of
themselves on the steps of City Hall, then hurried off to finish the paperwork.
They were catching a 40-minute flight back to Beirut that evening. Many other couples stay on to
honeymoon on the island, a sunny, laid-back escape from their high-stress lives
back home at the center of the Mideast conflict. One such couple is Dimitri
Stafeev and Olga Zaytseva, two 29-year-olds of Russian descent who live in a
town near Jerusalem. He’s Jewish, she’s a Russian
Orthodox Christian, so they couldn’t marry in Israel unless one of them
converted to the other’s faith. Converting to Judaism is a long process of
study and ritual, and can be especially difficult for immigrants from the
former Soviet Union who may have grown up with no religious education. Stafeev and Zaytseva were married
this month near the seaside city of Larnaca, in a century-old mansion renovated
by the municipality with carpets and antique furniture to serve as a suitably
romantic backdrop. In Israel, the Orthodox rabbis who
control marriage and divorce argue that their strict definition of Jewishness –
it passes only through the mother – is vital to preserve the unity of a
long-persecuted people, and to spare the offspring of mixed marriages from
inheriting similar problems when their time comes to marry. Clerics are just as firm in
Lebanon, whose Muslim and Christian populations subdivide into 18 officially
recognized religious groups. “For us, a person who has civil
marriage is like a person who is committing adultery,” Father Joseph
Abdul-Sater, a Maronite Catholic priest and religious judge, told The
Associated Press. “The marriage is the sacrament while civil marriage is a
contract, and for that reason it is considered cohabitation.” Mohammed Dali Balta, a Sunni
Muslim judge, said in an interview that if human beings are allowed to write
marriage laws, rather than live by religiously sanctified Muslim law, “they can
one day legalize marriage between homosexuals.” The Israeli and Lebanese couples
who marry in Cyprus tend to feel bitter and discriminated against, and while
they may consider each other enemies, they would probably find much to agree on
as far as marriage law is concerned. “Who is ruling the country? In a
way, it’s the religious parties,” said Wakim, 39, the Lebanese groom. “Not
separating the church from government from the beginning… this is the biggest
problem.” Ghamloush, his 33-year-old bride,
said Lebanon, with so many religious groups, badly needs civil marriage.
“Because if you respect your partner, you shouldn’t expect him to change his
religion for you.” Stafeev, who works in construction
in Israel, said people’s religion should be their own affair. “Israel is a
democratic state,” he said. “Everyone should have the will and the right to do
what they want.” Both Lebanon and Israel have
champions for change. Last year a campaign called “All
for Civil Marriage in Lebanon” spread through Facebook and became a movement
that is trying to legalize civil marriage for those who have no other option,
said Basil Abdullah, a Lebanese civil rights activist. Political rivalries have stymied
the effort, he said, but he was optimistic it would eventually succeed. In Israel, the marriage issue is a
political line in the sand that can threaten governments dependent on religious
parties for their parliamentary majorities. Mixed couples in common-law
marriages have won some relief from a 2002 Supreme Court ruling granting them
the same rights and benefits as those in religiously sanctioned unions, but
they still aren’t recognized by the state as married unless they go abroad and
have a civil marriage. Irit Rosenblum, a civil rights
lawyer who campaigns for civil marriage, says for many couples, equal benefits
aren’t enough; to be registered by the state as married “is really important
mentally for them.”