Why do many Bolsahyes have Turkish last names?

Recently, Daron Acemoglu won the Nobel Prize in economics. This achievement sparked an unusual reaction among a certain segment of Armenians who couldn’t understand or bear the fact that Daron carried a Turkish last name. Comments on social media posts about his award were most noteworthy. It was unfathomable for them that an Armenian can carry a last name that is Turkish — never mind the fact that these comments came from Demirdjians, Yazidjians or Tashjians.

But why do many Bolsahyes have Turkish last names? The simple answer is that they were forced to. In 1934, as part of Atatürk’s nation-building project, the Turkish government implemented the Surname Law (Soyadı Kanunu), which mandated the replacement of non-Turkish surnames with Turkish ones. Armenians with last names ending in “-yan” were often forced to adopt Turkified names, and these would sometimes end with the suffix of “-oğlu.” Others, like the Greeks, also experienced a similar process, replacing “-oulos” with “-oğlu,” while Slavic surnames, often ending in “-ich,” were Turkified in various ways. 

Ethnic Turks and many Muslims also had to abide by the new law, as prior to the Surname Law, Turks did not have last names and went only by titles (e.g., Bey, Pasha, Effendi, Agha). It was now customary to have a last name. Even fellow Muslims from non-Turkish ethnic minorities were not spared from this policy as Arabic and Kurdish surnames were also Turkified. In fact, the policy went beyond personal names with the altering of names of villages, towns, geographic features and streets — all with the goal of erasing non-Turkish identities from the national landscape. Campaigns like Vatandaş Türkçe Konuş (Citizen Speak Turkish) even made speaking any language other than Turkish a punishable offense.

So why do Bolsahyes still carry these last names even though many of them live outside of Turkey? Well, I can’t speak on behalf of every Bolsahye, but I can speak on behalf of myself.

A November 28, 1934 issue of the Cummhuriyet newspaper. Title of the article reads: “The entire nation is busy choosing surnames… Everyone is selecting purely Turkish names for themselves. It seems almost all the members of parliament have already adopted surnames.”

This is my history, or rather, my family’s history. Whether I like it or not, we are shaped by the experiences of those who came before us, and my family endured a process of oppression that should not, and cannot, be forgotten. Indeed, this painful memory of oppression and forced assimilation is a burden, but it can also be a story of resilience.

Indeed, this is not a struggle unique to Armenians. The prominent African American activist Malcolm X, who was originally Malcolm Little, changed his last name, because it was tied to slavery and his involuntary assimilation into white America. By choosing the letter “X,” he felt as though he cut ties with his oppressed past while simultaneously raising awareness about it. However, he not only believed that his past was oppressed — he believed it didn’t even exist. His history, identity and provenance were stripped away and forcefully replaced. “X” was simply the symbol of that obliteration. In contrast, for me, holding onto my last name can serve another role. It is a vessel to preserve and share our story of resilience. Whereas Malcolm X sought to raise awareness of his oppressed past by erasing his last name, I believe I can do the same by preserving it. Both these paths are valid reactions to historical wrongs. Each shows its own kind of defiance and triumph.

The pressure from the Armenian community to change my last name to include an “ian,” ironically, mirrors the same forces that sought to erase my identity in the first place. But this all-too-familiar “Bolsahye paradox” of being “too Turkish for Armenians, too Armenian for Turks” is not just my life’s burden — it’s also an opportunity. Carrying this last name often prompts questions, and that opens the door to conversations about the injustices we endured. Many become inquisitive, delve deeper into the struggle of my family and learn something that they otherwise wouldn’t have known if my last name were so predictable. Reverting my last name to its pre-1934 form would end that conversation and obscure the sinister reality of my past. It would be to whitewash a painful chapter of my family’s history — a chapter that deserves recognition and awareness, not suppression. Such a change would also erase the broader truth of our people’s suffering as a whole. By carrying this last name, I honor their survival and ensure that their experiences remain a part of our collective memory. In doing so, I expose not my failure as an Armenian, but their failures as human beings, while at the same time spreading knowledge about the truth, much like Malcolm did himself. 

Even if an Armenian has fully assimilated or been ‘Turkified,’ their story is still worth listening to, because it’s a story of our people. These stories, or rather narratives, can often be contradictory, but they are part of a larger scope of our shared history. Acknowledging and respecting where we all come from is crucial in helping our people move forward. For example, embracing someone like Acemoglu into the community, rather than rejecting him because of his last name, would be a great opportunity for Armenia to build bridges and foster positive change for the country. The alternative — pushing him away and potentially encouraging him to focus on our not-so-friendly neighbor, Turkey — would be a critically missed opportunity or even detrimental. The choice is ours.

We must ask ourselves: Is simply having an “ian” at the end of your last name enough to render someone Armenian? Is that all it takes these days? Are we so easily satisfied with minimal gestures of identity? Armenians often become preoccupied with superficial markers, whether it’s wearing a cross, getting an Armenian-themed tattoo, having an Armenian partner, occasionally vacationing in Armenia, waving the flag once a year, or yes, carrying the suffix “ian.” These actions, while symbolic, require little effort. We often forget that identity is not just a label, but rather a relentless process of effort and engagement. This very endeavor, such as through learning to read and write in Armenian, has a lot more significance than any such surface-level marker. 

The July 22, 1934 edition of the Official Gazette in which the Surname Law was first published

Shakespeare once wrote, “A rose by any other name would smell as sweet,” suggesting that names themselves are inconsequential, and true power lies in the essence of things. Names are merely identity markers that are handed to us. True identity is not defined by what is handed to you; rather, it’s shaped by how you use what you’ve been given and contribute to the world around you. The shallow symbols we associate with our identity often mislead us into thinking we have fully embraced who we are. By focusing on such markers, we often lose sight of what truly matters: nurturing and strengthening our identity. This can come in the form of achieving something greater, like winning a Nobel Prize, or smaller, foundational steps, like learning the Armenian alphabet.

Do I carry this last name as a badge of honor? Far from it. My surname, born of oppression, does not define my worth, but it reminds me of the injustices my ancestors faced and the ongoing resilience that comes with it. It symbolizes a constant battle — a painful memory that serves as a daily reminder of how important it is to overcome the dark forces that sought to erase not just my own family but Armenians as a whole.

Our identity is not limited to a suffix or labels alone, nor should it be neatly packaged in the confines of symbols and paraphernalia. Our identity constantly evolves, shaped by not only our collective histories, struggles and stories of survival passed down through generations, but by what we contribute to the world. To reduce it to superficial markers — be they a surname, a flag or a tattoo — is not just an oversimplification; it is an affront to the legacy of our ancestors and, more importantly, ourselves. Instead, let us embrace the complexity of our past, honor the resilience of our people and strive for a future where our identity is defined not by what was imposed upon us but by what we have endured and achieved. Only then can we truly elevate the essence of what it means to be Armenian.

Garen Kazanc

Garen Kazanc

Born in Paris to Armenians from Turkey, Garen Kazanc moved to Los Angeles at a young age, where he attended and graduated from the Armenian Mesrobian School in 2006. He received a B.S. degree in sociology from Cal State Los Angeles. He has been an active member of Hamazkayin and the Armenian Poetry Project and has contributed articles to various Armenian newspapers and media outlets.

22 Comments

  1. COLORING OUR HISTORY: Thank you Karen Kazanc for sharing the historical background of your family name. Although I had read about the law in passing, but had not come across the details you presented. Nor do I think I will ever be tired reading about each and every one of such names. Each has a story to tell.
    Your family’s last name reminded me of a similar story. He is not a Bolsahay and his family name Gavoor has come about way before Ataturk. His last name, he claimed, was a sultan’s doing. For all those who know what gavoor means, I am sure had a deeper appreciation of Mark Gavoor’s article in Keghart.com in 2009, titled “My Name is Gavoor”. It has remained etch in my memory. Mark said, what you articulated, “I wear this name proudly and a bit defiantly”. Hopefully Bolsahays, in and out of Bolis, continue to retain their family names. It sure colors our history.

  2. At least the totalitarian surname law was imposed without bias upon ALL citizens of the republic of Turkey. Even where there is no such state compulsion surnames often become influenced by the dominant language which would influence their literation and pronunciation. In the fervid period in the 1940s and 50s Israel had its hebrization policy as part of a reinvention and lustration to remove “exile” surnames in some cases it was simply translation in others it was to reverse diminutive surnames for an assertive one. For Armenia perhaps the surname Pashinyan with the Armenian yan / ian suffix but the Turkish Pasha indeed due to Soviet control who weren’t fussed about such things and post Soviet Union were it seems apathetic about Turkish based surnames. The famous oil baron ” Mr 10% ” Calouste Gulbenkian retained his Turkish based surname. In the diaspora the Latin Ian being preferred to the Russian Cyrillic influenced Yan in Roman alphabet literation and western Armenians traditional use of Ian. In Armenia itself Ian being seen as less linked to Russia in sentiment. With Malcolm X it served as a most distinctive moniker in addition to the prosaic fact he was a particularly tall man and despite becoming a Muslim, declined to adopt a Muslim generally Arabic based surname he was needless to say a complex individual.

  3. Daron Acemoglu, even though he happens to be the second ethnic Armenian to win a Nobel Prize, should not be celebrated, because he is a Turkish nationalist, he is a supporter of the Turkish Islamist and Armenophobic dictator Erdogan, and he has not expressed any interest for Armenia and Armenians. Istanbul Armenians naturally celebrate him as one of their own, and like him suffer from a collective Stockholm Syndrome towards their Turkish overlords, even when they live outside Turkey. Armenians should not elevate him nor celebrate him. There will be other Armenian Nobel Prize winners in the future, who are not from Istanbul.

    • You are wrong about it. His mother was a teacher in Aramian school, he speaks perfect Armenian. He offered his help to Armenia, but was declined. He refused Erdogan’s offer to participate in his government.

      • Istanbul Armenians like Turks, often defend Turkey as if they are that country’s ambassadors, and go as far to parrot Turkey’s propaganda and lies about Armenian Genocide denial, even when they live outside Turkey and are no longer Turkish citizens. Living among Turks does that to them and that 80% of Istanbul Armenians and 90% of its youth don’t speak Armenian, is another factor of this Turkicization. I have met a few of them, and their sycophancy for Turkey is nauseating. This Turkish influence on them and this affection for Turkey, is what keeps them apart from other Armenians in the diaspora. Because of that, other Armenians in the diaspora get alienated from them and shun the sycophants.

        • Where are you getting your made up statistics from? Nearly all Armenians in Istanbul go to Armenian private schools (even those from low-income families) and are fluent in Armenian and even more eloquently than the Armenian-American students that go to private schools in Los Angeles. On top of that, it is a tightly knit Armenian community that holds onto traditions. I’m not even referring to the population from Hayastan that has moved to Armenia. Daron Acemologu, like Taniyel mentioned, is fluent in Armenian, rejected the call from Erdogan and was involved in the Armenian community in Istanbul until he moved to the states. You are literally spreading lies and are blinded by hate. Sad.

        • I am a Turk and I think your comment about our Armenian brothers and sisters living in Türkiye is completely disgusting. You want them to hate us as you do which will never happen. As sons and daughters of modern Republic of Türkiye, we’ll never let anything bad happen to our Armenian brothers and sisters. Whatever happened in the past will never repeat. Whoever tries to harm them collectively, will find us -their Turkish brothers and sisters taking a stand against. Thank God, they know it and I think that’s why they do not and will not care what people like you say.

          • Murat, there have been continuing massacres of Christians in Turkey. In the 30s, in 1955 in Istanbul (this one was big enough to be in international papers). Turkey took an active part in the massive ethnic cleansing of Armenians in Artsakh (Nagorno Karabagh) where Armeniand had lived consistently for 4,000 years. These are facts. I don’t hate Turks. But whenever I meet a Turkish person, I know there is a liklihood that person harbors racism toward me, so I am very cautious. I have Turkish friends in the US. They don’t deny the Armenian Genocide. They don’t deny the continuing racism in Turkey. I think it must be very difficult for Armenians living among people who descend from the murderers of their forebears.Their choice is to make peace with their lot in life, or leave. I stand ready to accept them fully.

        • As a proud Bolsahye with a non Turkish last name, i’m deaply offended by your comments Steve. Shame on you for instigating hatred among all Armenians in the Diaspora.

    • @ Steve – are you guys going to tell us who to celebrate and who not to celebrate? Daron is at MIT in the United States, don’t be confused.

  4. After 1934 last name law my late father changed it from Bulanikian ( Mus province of BULANUGH) to BULANIK which means blurry in Turkish, once I becake US citizin I changed it back to BULANIKIAN

  5. One addition. This law was mostly applied in Anatolia. When Armenians living in their ancestral lands moved to Bolis, they were considered Bolsahays. Actually they came from different Western Armenia places. Armenians living in Bolis and some living in other cities were able to keep their old surnames.

  6. I suppose maintaining one’s modified last name is a personal choice for various reasons but I think it should be much more than that. Keeping one’s Turkified last name, for example, may be important because there is a story behind it that one not only does not want to forget but also to use it to educate others. The thing is that what we lose sight of here is the enemy’s view and intent in doing so. We may think that by holding onto our modified last names we are holding onto a piece of our personal or even collective history but by looking at it from the enemy perspective we get a whole different picture. From the enemy perspective, they have succeeded in doing what they set out to do and that is to muddy your identity, albeit artificially, and in extreme cases branding you as one subservient to their will. It is my personal opinion that this is like a stain put upon some of our people and that they need to clean and purify themselves of that.

    Why do you think the Turkish enemy has changed and Turkified the names of just about all Armenian landmarks, towns, villages, cities and provinces? Tigranakert has become “Diyabakir”, Garin has become “Erzurum” and Ararat the national symbol of the Armenian nation as “Ağrı Dağ”. Even the current Armenian prime minister Ararat Mirzoyan did not escape this fascist Turkish relabeling of names when his first name was deliberately mispronounced while visiting Turkey fairly recently and for obvious reasons. It was and it still is the enemy’s intention to erase everything that bears witness to being Armenian. Another example of this is referring to Turkish-occupied Western Armenia which with its six Armenian provinces constitutes 90% of the total Armenian landmass as “eastern Anatolia”. Simply by labeling it as such, the name Western Armenia is wiped off the map and its murdered indigenous Armenian and other non-Turkic and non-Muslim populations erased from memory. By holding onto our modified and distorted last names we are doing more harm to ourselves than anything else.

    You say it is our choice to accept or reject Nobel Prize winner Daron Acemoglu and that by accepting him we build bridges and by rejecting him we push him away from us and into the arms of the enemy. I say how you feel about yourself and your identity should come from within and that it should not be a choice. If you are an Armenian, regardless of your last name, and identify yourself as one then no one needs to coax you into doing or feeling something if you don’t already. He is the one who should embrace his Armenian identity first and foremost and show how proud he is of it and rest-assured the entire world Armenian community will embrace him with open arms.

    • With all due respect to your point, what should the majority of diasporan Armenians with surnames like Demirdjians, Yazidjians, or Tashjians do in this case?

    • Very well said, Ararat. I hope the author will read your comment. Daron Acemoglu is a brilliant scientist. Whether he feels Armenian or not is not clear to many of us, specially since he’s married to a turkish woman, whose family is a staunch kemalist, based on what bolsahayer have told me. Is he raising his kids Armenian? Does he commemorate April 24th wirh his family? The author should not take carrying the yan/ian suffix in our last names lightly. Yes, many of us carry turkified last names forced on us long before the 1930s. But the yan/ian in those turkified last names have solidified our identity and should not be minimized by the author.

  7. I am confident that global intellectuals recognize Daron as an Armenian from his historical homeland. Turkey cannot impose its narrative on the history of the Eastern Roman Empire or the atrocities inflicted on the residents of Anatolia.

  8. My dad had a yan and my mom had a ian and they argued about who’s last name I will inherit so I inherited both a Turkish spelled last name from my dad and a Armenian last name from my mom, I don’t change it or my dad will get mad because he is from turkey and is very proud of his last name

  9. You don’t need to keep your turkified name in order to ” tell your story”, how utterly ridiculous and melodramatic. You can still tell your story, nobody is taping your mouth shut, I have told the story all my life without my turkified last name

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