Seferian: More than One April 24, 2015, in Istanbul

Special for the Armenian Weekly

It was the evening of April 24, 2015, and I was sitting on the street in Istanbul, right near where Istiklal Avenue starts off from Taksim Square. The area had been closed off especially for us—a part of town usually bustling (bursting, really) with people. Those around me were holding placards, mostly of the Armenians who had been placed under arrest that day 100 years earlier. I got a placard with one Hagop Terzian on it. “I must look him up,” I thought, somewhat ashamed of the fact that I had not heard of him before, one of the many whose memory was being honored that evening.

The atmosphere was that of a quiet crowd. There was some music, some speeches. I thought it odd that my feet were crossed on the ground next to the tracks over which the tramway ferries tourists and locals from one end of this long, touristy shopping street to the other. The tramway incessantly rings its bell as a warning because, again, Istiklal Avenue is always teeming with people. (I had earlier noticed a favorite game of one of the unfortunate newcomers to this part of the world—young refugee children from Syria, hopping on and off the protruding parts of the tramway wagon. No ringing bell ever dissuades them.) I made a mental note of exactly where I was on the street, trying to figure out a line joining the track to the shops and buildings around me. Someday I would show off the specific spot where I was on the 24th of April, 2015.

A scene from the Armenian Genocide commemoration event at the Haydarpasha train station (photo: George Aghjayan)
A scene from the Armenian Genocide commemoration event at the Haydarpasha train station (photo: George Aghjayan)

Then came the chanting, at first far off and unclear, but, as it got closer, it sounded more and more aggressive. I was not sure what was going on. People began to get up. I noticed that the woman sitting next to me stayed where she was. So did I. She spoke English, so I struck up a conversation with her. The group that was coming was not one of the two anti-Armenian protests that were being held not too far away earlier that day. (“We shall uproot the lie of the ‘Armenian Genocide’!” one of the banner advertisements for it proclaimed. I later saw Syrian children dismantle the wreath that the group had placed on the monument at Taksim Square in order to sell the flowers from it.) Instead, the people marching held up placards that said, in Armenian and Turkish, “We are here!”

The woman sitting next to me was not very pleased. She said that the commemorations for the Armenian Genocide being held in Turkey since 2010 were meant to be solemn remembrances of the lives that were lost. Yes, she agreed, she too goes out on the street and chants slogans for some cause or other, when warranted. But not on April 24. The impression I got was that she felt it wrong to politicize the Armenian Genocide in the same way, at least on that day.

Many Armenians of Istanbul would agree, it turned out. Again, on that very day, but 50 years earlier, a delegation of Armenians of Turkey led by a former member of parliament, Berç Turan, placed a wreath on the monument at Taksim Square. The monument commemorates the Turkish Republic and in particular its founder, Mustafa Kemal Atatürk. The Armenians of Turkey in 1965 did not wish to bring up the bad memories of the dying days of the Ottoman Empire. The passage of the resolution by the parliament of Uruguay, the demonstrations in Lebanon, in Soviet Armenia, and elsewhere, and the tensions at the time with regards to Cyprus all made for an uncomfortable atmosphere in the 1960’s. Not only were the memories of the deportations and massacres relatively fresh back then, the more recent pogroms in Istanbul against Christians (mostly Greeks) of 1955, not to mention the impossible wealth tax imposed on non-Muslims in 1942, added to the strong sense of insecurity.

That sense still exists in Turkey today. Many Bolsahays stayed at home on April 24. Many were undoubtedly, though cautiously, pleased with the mass celebrated by the acting patriarch, one in which a Turkish minister took part—and one in which the word “genocide” was not uttered, of course. The acting patriarch mentioned at a separate event that, although he knew what April 24 was all about, expectations of quick changes and angry reactions to slow ones were misplaced. Patience, he exhorted.

To say that any of the changes that have been taking place in Turkey in recent years are not historic would be unfair. But one must recognize the gap within the country in reacting to those changes, the various layers of both Armenians in Turkey as well as civil society taken more broadly there.

The commemorations of the Armenian Genocide in Turkey are not, in fact, Armenian initiatives, but largely those of Turkish human rights and democratization activists. Actually, the woman sitting next to me on Istiklal Avenue said that she did not like to call herself “Turkish,” but rather “from Turkey.” Yes, many individuals who would readily call themselves “Armenian” are certainly part and parcel of those movements for change in the country. But it would yet be accurate to say that the Turkish-Armenian community as a whole is not.

One hundred years ago—even more, during the decades prior to 1915—there was something not entirely different going on. There were individuals who were vying for change, people who saw that there were problems in the Ottoman Empire. The non-Muslims were getting a bad deal. Land reforms were high on the agenda. National, ethnic, cultural, religious rights were being invoked more and more. Many Armenians were very much at the forefront of all that, while very few took to violent nationalism and separatism. Some were politicians or officials within the Ottoman government. Most Armenians, however, were simple peasants, craftsmen, or homemakers, eager to get on with quiet, productive lives. The Armenian Church remained, of course, a conservative institution: no need to rock the boat. As for the reformers and the revolutionaries, many of their activities were “criminal” from the perspective of Ottoman law.

Instead of pursuing the “criminals,” instead of thinking about negotiating with the other side, even after the reformist Young Turks came to power in 1908, the entire non-Muslim populations of Anatolia and Asia Minor were targeted. It is impossible to justify that act. The Armenian Genocide, the massacres and deportations of the Greeks, Syriac peoples, Yezidis… This was both a sin and a crime.

I wonder, then, about today. What is the lesson from history? Is there one? Once again, there are those who are rocking the boat. Once again, the church is not too keen on it. Once again, there are different degrees of activism and aims and methods that do not always match. The multi-cultural, pluralistic “Ottomanism” of the past has become the “from Turkey” of the present. Krikor Zohrab said back then, “Our religions are diverse, but our belief is one. We are all co-believers in freedom.” What would he say today?

The changes that Turkey has undergone over the past decade are truly profound and remarkable. Those who downplay the public statements by the Turkish leadership on the Armenian Genocide because they do not mention the word “genocide” or they do not list any concrete steps to be taken in that regard are ignoring the significance of the very fact of such statements, which were impossible to even imagine just a few years ago.

Of course, the very same Erdogan who expressed condolences to Armenians in April 2014 felt insulted to be called a Georgian or, “even uglier,” an Armenian, in August 2014. And therein lies the real concern: The country is simply unpredictable. Since 1923, the Republic of Turkey has undergone anywhere from between four to six coups d’état or changes in regime, depending on what criteria one chooses to count. This is not a stable state. On the 24th of April, 2015, there were thousands commemorating the Armenian Genocide on Istiklal Avenue near Taksim Square. On the 24th of April, 2016, one cannot know what might happen, if anything, where, and how. This is the real reason why so many Bolsahays stay at home. That, I think, has been the lesson of the past 100 years for most Armenians of Turkey.

And so this situation makes me wonder about those in Turkey who do not stay at home. Are they courageous warriors for a cause? Or are they foolhardy adventurers out to make trouble not just for themselves, but for the entire Armenian (and civil society) community? I think that was a valid question at the beginning of the 20th century, and it remains so at the beginning of the 21st.

Nareg Seferian
Nareg Seferian has lived, studied and worked in New Delhi, Yerevan, Santa Fe, Boston, Vienna, Istanbul and Washington, DC. His writings can be read at


  1. Excellent article raising excellent questions as well as keen observations. I applaud the author. I think it important for those in Turkey to understand the thoughts expressed here as a primary reason for caution from the Diaspora and, thus, why there is not always as supportive a response to their activities in Turkey as they would expect. All generalizations are just that, but still the author has captured the essence of a broad range of actors involved in this issue both inside and outside of Turkey. Again thank you for sharing.

  2. Great questions. I will never call standing up for freedom ‘foolhardy.’ Life is meaningless without it and those Bolsahays “who do not stay home” ARE warriors for the cause.

    While public statements by Turkey’s leaders appear to represent a softening, a transforming attitude, what has really changed? Didn’t the young Turks start out making statements advocating inclusivity and democracy, giving Armenians false hope for equality in the empire? We all know how that turned out. I think very little has changed. I fear the genocidal cancer of 100 years ago is merely in a state of remission. No societal soul-searching has occurred to remove the tumor of ultra-nationalism. No just compensation to Armenia has been made as repentance for a crime. Even Erdogan’s public remarks of 2014 were less apology than amelioration of guilt with talk of shared pain.

    Yes, they are warriors—and particularly courageous ones—taking an overt stand for justice in a covertly hostile environment.

  3. As was mentioned many times before nothing has changed in Turkey regarding the Armenians. Few examples that prove this. The Killing of a peaceful Armenian like Hrant Dink. The present leader Erdoghan being insulted to be called Armenian and the same with Abdulla Gul. Erdoghan threathening to send 100,000 Armenian workers to Armenia as a revenge for Armenians claiming recognition of the Genocide.The Anti Armenian demonstrations by the Turks all over the world. And my own personal experience when in Jordan a bus load of octaganarian Turks were heading to Mecca for their pilgrimage. One of them was boasting of killing so many Armenian Christians ( Gavours) and now he is going to Mecca to complete his religious duty towards God. I myself would not like to see our boarder with Turkey opened even if they recognise the Genocide as the door will then be opened for Turks to invest in our country and not only Western Armenia will be in Turkey and in Turkish hands but also present Armenia . It’s therefore the duty of every Diaspora Armenian to get together and invest in our country and improve our country’s economy and make it self sustainable in order to stop the outward migration if we want our country to survive.

  4. Why shouldn’t Armenian citizens of Turkey take advantage of their constitutional right to peaceful freedom of assembly and speech. Yes, I agree, there are no guarantees that such public protests may not “backfire” on the community, but as the adage says, “Nothing gained ,nothing ventured”. As citizens, do not Armenians have the right, nay, obligation, to cooperate with those individuals and groups in Turkey struggling for progressive change? Yes, there are risks but I would venture to state that the days of a hidden Armenian millet, silent and cowed, are coming to an end. Younger generations of Istanbul-Armenians, as far as I know, have a much greater sense of Turkish citizenship then their elders. Many no longer carry the “baggage” of their parents. For them, the future path is to remain in Turkey and utilize their rights as citizens to fight for change. Ask the members of the “Nor Zartonk” (New Awakening) movement how they view such actions. Naturally, if, out of a community of 50-60,000 only a 1/4 of less believe in such an approach, they will need supporters in the greater society. Evidently, there appears to be a core of Turks and Kurds (as well as others) who see the resolution of the Armenian “question” as an essential component of the democratization process in Turkey.

  5. Thank you Nareg for your report from Istanbul. It’s interesting to hear about what was going in Bolis on April 24th. I was curious about the composition of the crowds in the streets.

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