By Henrik Dumanian
My memories of our last year in Armenia are wonderful. It was 1996. In retrospect, we were weeping and celebrating at the same time. We had just won the war and the new page of Armenian history would say we were victorious, fair and square, plain and simple, with no asterisks. I remember my family enthusiastically waving and pointing at the third line of soldiers marching down the Hraparak, trying to get me to spot our cousin Vahe who had just joined the army as part of what was to become a new, elite group of officers. “They talked me into it,” he told me over the summer. “Hairenik, pride, nation, honor, martyrs, Karabagh is ours!” he repeated with what must have been a cynical and sarcastic grin when I asked him why he had joined. He was around 16 or 17 at the time.
Over this past summer, after my month and a half long stay in Armenia, I realized how pessimistic, bitter, hopeless, and more importantly, how exhausted the people of Armenia had become. I reminisced back to the “Dark Years”—the years during the Karabagh War—when we had electricity and water for only a few hours a day, bad chicken imported from Iran, and nothing to watch on TV, and often sat around with our family and neighbors into the late hours of the night near candlelight. A room full of people sitting silently, all next to each other, waiting for somebody wise to break the silence. I think we were happier, more united, and more forgiving back then. I shared my thoughts with our grey-haired cab driver, and he painfully nodded in agreement. In the darkness of the war, perhaps, we saw things more clearly than we do today.
Last year’s presidential elections in Armenia ended with violence and anger we have never seen, and it left sour divisions between Artsakh and Armenia, and undoubtedly, homeland and spiurk [diaspora]. President Obama’s failure to keep his promise has been a devastating setback with no parallel in recent memory. And now, President Serge Sarkisian has, for whatever reason, decided to sign an agreement with Turkey that the Armenian authorities—even in 1991, with the loss of statehood and a second 1915 not too far off in our imagination—refused to sign. In every step of the way, our nation has been divided, and each faction has tenaciously worked against the other, including myself, you, our leaders, and the common people. It has been an extremely emotional time for all of us.
When I first came to America, I had difficulty understanding this new and strange dialect of Armenian everybody here seemed to speak. Today, I can understand Western Armenian quite well, but what I still haven’t grasped is this childish division within our community, which is mainly split into two groups: Prelacy and Diocese. I have worked, am involved in, and am friends with people from the ANCA, AAA, AYF, ACYOA, AGBU, and Knights of Vartan. I go to St. Sarkis Church in Douglaston (a Prelacy church) and work at the Zohrab Center (a Diocese organization). I have worked at Camp Haiastan (a Prelacy organization) and have had meaningful conversations with Bryan Ardouny, the head of the Armenian Assembly. Last April, I attended an event on Capitol Hill where Nancy Pelosi gave a speech commemorating the Armenian Genocide. Almost the entire staff of the ANCA was there, as well as the full staff of the Armenian Assembly. The room was half-full, and it had people from both “camps” of the Armenian community, the Prelacy and Diocese. At the event, there were two Archbishops present, one from each side. In all honesty, I don’t remember if they even said hello to each other. Although they might not have stooped so low so as to not exchange greetings, every time I glanced over to see what they were doing, I noticed an awkward aura around them and the people sitting close by.
Ironically enough, they are the two religious men I respect the most in our community, both for their intellect and courage. They have been wiser and more cautious than most of us. And this is not to say that the sides have never been in sync; last March, for example, all the major Armenian organizations released a joint statement following the horrific events of March 1. But is that what’s going to take for us to reach common cause, compromise, and unity? Absolute destruction and carnage on the streets of Yerevan? While I vehemently disagree with the decision to release that joint statement, for various reasons, it nonetheless underscores the fact that we have always been in the same boat.
And this is also not a blind call for unity. As someone who is extremely familiar with both sides, I can tell you that there are serious and fundamental disagreements on substantive issues—not only regarding specific policy matters, but even in terms of the general approach to our future. That is perfectly normal. What is not normal, however, is how we’ve become sub-ethnicities within an ethnicity. We send our kids to different summer camps, we seldom go to the “other” church, we rarely attend the other side’s events, and we certainly never give the other side the benefit of the doubt. You’re right, sometimes we do, but why is it so awkward? Why does there have to be a huge elephant in the room? I know a girl who drives for two hours from Long Island to New Jersey a few times a week so that she can be in a dance group. She, no doubt, loves her dance group, but there is also a dance group 20 minutes away from the “other” church, so why is going to that one such a politically charged decision? Ideology and political affiliations are passed down from generation to generation, the polarization is reinforced by the forced segregation of our kids from an early age, and good ideas don’t transcend. A Greek Congressman we met on that same day last April said the Greek community was jealous of our ability to organize. Some people even rank us behind the Jews in terms of influential minorities. We’ve also done a lot to inform the public, and no doubt will do more. But despite that, is this the reason why we still aren’t powerful enough to push a genocide recognition bill through Congress? It’s not that we have factions and rival organizations in our community, but rather, it’s because we are too often and unnecessarily confined to one group. Church leaders, who have been part of a long chain of sober guidance for the Armenian community since the 4th century, should make the first steps.
As the protocols remind us, we disagree. I personally have quarrels with the positions of most of the organizations that were represented in the meetings with Sarkisian in the Diaspora. But once you look beyond the violent rhetoric (including mine), there are some very important questions that were raised during these debates regarding our place in our nation: Should the diaspora have a say in the politics of Armenia? Should the diaspora be consulted with things of this magnitude? The first question is sort of misleading because the spiurk already plays a huge role in the homeland (sadly, I would argue, it plays a bigger role than the people of Armenia do). Spiurkahay [diasporan] businessmen and leaders meet with Armenian government officials from time to time and, for the most part, it has been smooth sailing (a little too smooth, I would argue, again). The second question, however, brings us right back to our lack of harmony and thus raises more questions. If Armenia were to ever seriously reach out to the diaspora on a specific policy matter, who would represent us? And what happens if we’re divided, what does Armenia do then? Would it be worth it to waste time and resources to try and reach our bitterly divided spiurk, only to highlight our extreme lines of cleavage? Wouldn’t that weaken us in front of both our host communities and our enemies? And what if the people of Armenia reject to that concept in principle? I am definitely not for an open war with Armenia on any grounds. That is a very realistic scenario and one we still haven’t discussed in any honest fashion. And lastly, when do we get involved? Do we trust ourselves to be benevolent and wise men with a bird’s eye view? Or will we get involved on issues that are more important to us and not on issues important to the inhabitants of Armenia themselves? There are great opportunities for bonding and reinforcing our shared values with Armenia, but there are equally as many opportunities to destroy our trust in one another.
Opening up our segregated communities to each other will only give ideas the ability to transcend beyond any type of division between our communities: ANCA, AAA, AGBU, Prelacy, Diocese, Bolsahay, Beirutsi, Hayastantsi, and Amerigahay. Our political leaders, although talented, dedicated, and brilliant in their own right, will no longer have the luxury of support that reproduces itself every generation. Organizations and ideas will compete.
As I write this article, my eyes keep wandering off to a book by Richard Hovannisian, titled The Republic of Armenia, Volume I: 1918-1919. In chapter 14, he tells us the story of how, facing genocide, famine, poverty, and complete destruction, the western and eastern Armenians absolutely despised each other. Refugees from Van temporarily residing in Yerevan considered the eastern Armenians to be “Russified” and less-Armenian, and never actually accepted the independence of the Araratian Republic. They never intended on staying. In turn, the eastern Armenians thought the refugees made their already dire situation worse and considered the western Armenians to be “Turkified.” My great grandmother, one of those refugees from Van, married my great grandfather, an indigenous Armenian from Artashat, in eastern Armenia.
I am their descendant. We all are.
We can at least learn to speak to one another. I think there are ways to do this, no matter how upset we are, how familiar we are with our opponents, how old the arguments are. It’s possible.
My family came from “two sides” too (one parent Prelacy, one parent Diocese). But I grew up in the AYF. In the juniors, we learned the discipline of Robert’s Rules of Orders, so we could at least have efficient and orderly meetings. I don’t know how it works now, but there really are ways we could speak to one another.
Of course, being who I am, I might be the first one to violate my own advice. But we can TRY to have to discipline to do this!
I don’t understand why we have this thing of so easily falling into condescension and disgust. It’s a bad trait.
that should be “Robert’s Rules of Order.” And no, I didn’t mention the AYF to put a “side” to anything. It’s just my life.
As an example of what I mean by “good ideas transcending” — take the battles between the ANCA and the AAA over the Protocols. Clearly, 99.9% of our community is against the Protocols, but the AAA — on the wrong side of the issue — will continue to recieve both financial and political support from many Armenians. You didn’t see a massive walk out you would expect from an organization getting it wrong on such a core issue from such a united community. Why? Because we don’t support ideas or decisions — we support our “camp.”
That’s why there has to be instituted policy of secularism in Armenian community in order to avoid clashes and disagreements between Diocese and Prelacy.
Henrik, your observations accurate and appreciated. The division now in its 76th year has been institutionalized by a community either too parochial to integrate( are we more concernedabout which church we go to or rather that you are a practicing Armenian Christian)or lacking the visionto unify. Unlike my parents and grandparents, I was born into the split as a 2nd generation Armenian-American. The schism is baseless in today’s community.Most Armenians don’t even understand the historical basis for the current state. Moreover they don’t care. But they also don’t care enough to demand change from their leaders. We are all too busy in our local lives;trying to maintain what we inherited. But have we ever considered that what we inherited is not the natural state? Our lack of passion to correct this sin is amot. As a Christian people,we are called to forgive and to reconcile.
Our leaders in the church are waiting for a signal from us. Our tolerance causes their inaction.
Henrik, keep the faith. I grew up in the Prelacy and now go to a Diocesan church. I was in the AYF and my children are in the ACYOA. There are many like this both ways. Our parish is about half people who grew up in the Prelacy and half Diocesan. The key is to love our Lord and the Armenian Church. This will heal us and give us the spirit to respect each other. That is how the church started.
Well written comments by all, thank you. This shows that we can talk to each other regardless of the difference in our opinions. The fact that all Armenians showed a united front during the Gharabagh war proves we can act together when it is necessary.
Having different opinions is very natural to all races and communities and is nothing to be worried about as it allows us to consider issues from all angles, as long as we reach a consensus and act together.
Coming from different backgrounds and countries is a situation that was imposed upon us when our homeland was torn apart on many occasions in history. This is a fact we should recognise and accept each other as equals and fellow Armenians. In fact this diversity is to our advantage as we each bring with us different strengths and experiences for our common good. The different immigrants to America helped to make it the richest and strongest country it is.
The Armenian Government should consult all Armenians on matters of national importance as it cocerns us all, both in Armenia and the Diaspora. The final decision, however, taking all points into cosideration, should lie with the Armenian government.
Hey Henrik. I’ve never commented on this article before. I guess someone (clearly a non-native English speaker) has used my name to make a comment…unless there exists another Yelena Ambartsumian. I’d like to meet her. =)