Most people do not dispute the fact that hundreds of thousands of Armenians were killed by Turkish forces in the early part of the twentieth century, through a process of deportations, bombings, and executions. What we make of this fact, however, has been elevated to the forefront of the American political agenda, as a result of Wednesday’s declaration by the Foreign Affairs Committee of the U.S. House of Representatives that these deaths are properly labeled genocide.

The politics here are hairy. Some Republicans suspect the Democrat-controlled committee of pushing the resolution in an effort to sabotage the cooperation Turkey has shown the U.S. in Iraq. Bush’s people, meanwhile, are working overtime to stop the full House from voting in favor of the resolution, for the same reason, that it will undermine Turkey’s support for U.S. policies in the Middle East. The Turks, of course, are incensed, while the Armenians are celebrating.

A reading of the debate reveals considerable historical detail offered by those who label these deaths genocide, and elaborate argumentation by those who do not. There are plausible reasons to conclude that Turkish actions weren’t technically genocide, or to conclude that while they amount to genocide, only harm will come from the House’s resolution.

What I’m most interested in is this: where will Christians — especially the white evangelicals who tend to support President Bush — come down on this issue? My prediction: resounding silence, despite the religious theme (Muslims slaughtering Christians).

In part this will be due to ignorance (not confined to the Christian community, by any means) of history and indifference toward world affairs. There’s also a small element of complexity — there are some interesting arguments against calling the slaughter genocide, and Turkey has a fleet of lobbyists and public affairs specialists arguing its case to U.S. congressmen and journalists.

But the primary reason for silence, I’ll posit, is an unhealthy Christian allegiance to a political party and a president. This plays out, as a practical matter, in reasoning that runs something like this: President Bush says this will threaten our troops. The Democrats passed it. Must be bad.

And lest anyone assert that I’m unfairly representing President Bush’s viewpoint, let’s be clear: regardless of one’s conclusions about whether Turkish violence amounts to genocide, any fair reading of President Bush’s public statements on this matter place him squarely in the realpolitik camp, i.e., the truth about what the Turks did is less important than the current geopolitical interests of the U.S. And to be doubly fair to President Bush, I’ll further state that this is probably very wise political and military strategy.

Christians, however, aren’t called to be geopolitical strategists, are we? It seems to me that we ought not care whether the Foreign Affairs Committee’s resolution makes political sense (it probably doesn’t), or whether it is motivated less by a desire to see justice done than a desire to reward the Armenian-American lobby (which is probably the case). What we ought to ask, quite simply, is: What is the truth?

Did the Turks slaughter one and a half million Armenians because of their ethnicity and religion? What is the truth? We ought to ask this without reference to our political or even patriotic leanings, but as followers of Christ alone. And then we ought to speak the truth, regardless of the consequences. Telling the truth has always carried costs. It seems to me that we Christians, however, have no other choice — not even silence.