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The Armenian Weekly; Volume 73, No. 37; Sept. 15, 2007
Arts and Literature:
1. Morgenthau’s Reception for the American Colony
By Kay Mouradian
2. Two Poems by Diana Der-Hovanessian
***
1. Morgenthau’s Reception for the American Colony
Constantinople, March 1914
By Kay Mouradian
The hands on the clock hanging on the wall were nearing 4
o’clock. Glancing at the time, Henry Morgenthau quickly buttoned his
suit jacket as his wife, Josie, stood in front of the mirror and put
on another coat of lipstick. Morgenthau did not want to be late for
this reception where he was to formally introduce his wife to the
American colony. Grasping his wife’s hand, the American ambassador
rushed her down the stairs from their living quarters to the entrance
of the ballroom.
A middle-aged woman, her arms extended, a wide smile on her face,
approached and reached for both of Josie’s hands. `Welcome to
Constantinople.’
`Josie,’ Morgenthau said, `I want you to meet Dr. Mary Patrick. She is
the president of Constantinople College for Girls.’ He watched his
wife release Dr. Patrick’s strong grip and smiled as he observed the
two women. Mary Patrick, energetic, slightly plump, aggressive and
confident, reminded him of his wife.
`My husband has told me about you and his pleasant visits to your
campus, Dr. Patrick. He says you are an inspiration.’
Mary Patrick looked as if she were about to blush. `Your husband is
the one who inspires people. I haven’t had a chance to tell him,’ and
she looked directly at the ambassador, `but after his talk to my
senior class¦he was passionate about the need for trained
workers¦more than half of my seniors now say they want to devote
their lives to social service.’
`I’m touched.’ Morgenthau placed his hand on his heart.
`Mrs. Morgenthau,’ Mary Patrick said, `I look forward to visiting with
you at my college.’ She walked back into the ballroom and went
straight to the buffet table. There was a lilting bounce in her steps.
Thirty minutes later, seventy Americans were feasting and milling
around the ballroom. Muted sounds of conversation filled the
room. Educators gathered at one end and chatted, missionaries grouped
together and exchanged stories, and laughter from the smartly dressed
business men was boisterous.
Morgenthau watched his American colony welcoming his wife. His face
was radiant with pride. Josie was the center of attention. She was
conversing with Dr. Gates, president of Robert College, and he walked
over to join them. He listened as Dr. Gates, in his academic tone,
told his wife how the college had started with a small private home
fifty years ago.
`It’s not small anymore, Josie,’ Morgenthau said. `When I first
visited Dr. Gates, I was struck with the campus. The buildings are so
American I felt as if I were in New England.’
Beaming, Dr. Gates responded, `Most of the American institutions in
Turkey have that aura, but I like to think our campus is one of the
most beautiful.’
`I look forward to an invitation,’ Josie said.
`Soon,’ Dr. Gates promised. `Most of our students are from Turkey, but
some come from as far away as Bulgaria, Greece and Romania. In fact,
today, seven of the nine Bulgarian cabinet members are graduates of
our college.’
`That’s very impressive. It suggests an American influence in
Bulgaria,’ Josie responded.
`I don’t think the Turks appreciate the influence,’ Morgenthau said
with a nervous laugh. `Remember the Balkan War?’
`We did not encourage our Bulgarian students to separate from the
empire,’ Dr. Gates protested earnestly and was obviously upset by the
inference. His round face turned red. `If the way to rule a country is
to keep the population illiterate, then I refuse to be an accomplice
to that system of government.’ He walked away in a huff.
Morgenthau was stunned. He started to follow Dr. Gates, but Josie
gently pulled on his sleeve. `Let him cool off,’ she said. They
watched him approach Dr. Peet, the president of Bible House and
treasurer of the American missions in Turkey. Within minutes,
Dr. Gates returned with the mild mannered Dr. Peet.
`Ambassador, you struck a sensitive nerve,’ Dr. Gates said. `My anger
surfaced and I should apologize.’
`That’s not necessary.’ Morgenthau reached out and put his hand on
Dr. Gates’ shoulder.
`Our friend Gates,’ Dr. Peet said and extended his palm toward his
colleague, `asked for my support.’ His soft voice carried a gentle but
firm strength behind his words. `Are you aware, Mr. Ambassador, that
the Turks never make things easy for us? They have been and are still
suspicious of our motives.’
`It is difficult for them to understand that we truly want to give
education and hope to those who otherwise would never have that
opportunity,’ Dr. Gates added.
`I have seen the good works you do here,’ Morgenthau said trying to
ease the misunderstanding, `and, yes, I am aware the Turks cannot
comprehend our approach to philanthropy. They can’t accumulate wealth,
so it is difficult for them to entertain the idea that people truly
enjoy donating large sums of money to uplift humanity.’
`I hope you did not take offense to my behavior,’ Dr. Gates said.
`I’m on your side Doctor!’ Morgenthau gave him a disarming smile and
the tension was defused.
`Ambassador Morgenthau,’ Dr. Peet said, `I have heard that you and
Mrs. Morgenthau are planning a trip to Palestine.’
`Yes. I plan to visit the entire empire, probably in three trips, and
my first is to the cities along the seacoast.’ Morgenthau’s voice took
on the tone of a businessman assessing a new venture. `I want a better
feel for the country. I need to meet the missionaries and visit their
buildings. It’s the only way I can properly represent them and their
claims.’
`We are grateful for this attention,’ Dr. Peet said. `It gives our
missionaries credibility with Turkish officials.’
`That’s part of my job.’
`My husband is a man who gets things done.’ There was no concealing
the pride in Josie’s smile.
`My relationship with Turkish leaders is quite good,’ Morgenthau
said. `In fact, Talaat has notified the governors of my trip and has
asked me to make recommendations where I see things that need
improving.’
`Ambassador,’ Dr. Peet said and nervously shuffled his feet, `if you
plan to visit Palestine, have you considered getting permission from
the Sultan to visit the Caves of Machpelah?
`The graves of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob?’
`Yes. Did you know that non-Moslems are not allowed to visit the
caves?’ He hesitated, smiled and looked Morgenthau in the eye. `Except
for royalty and ambassadors and their parties.’
Morgenthau laughed and said, `Are you, a Christian, saying you would
like to accompany me, a Jew, to the site when I’m in Palestine?’
`Well, it certainly is an opportunity I’d hate to miss.’
Morgenthau smiled and said, `Let me think abut it.’
Dr. Peet opened the door and a flood of requests to visit the hallowed
site rushed through. Before Morgenthau and his wife climbed the side
of Mt. Hebron, his little party had grown to a pilgrimage of 26.
———————————————- ———————–
2. Two Poems by Diana Der-Hovanessian
No One Tattooed My Skin
or pulled off my face.
No one ripped my belly.
I was not taken to Istanbul
for either harem
or experimental hospital.
No one nailed me on
a cross saying `Now let
your Jesus save you.’
No one made me servant
or slave.
No one had me crawl
like a dog or grovel
for a piece of bread.
My soul did not wither
or fold its wings choosing
to drown in the Euphrates
rather than bear another day.
But oh, my sisters
now that ninety years
have passed and no one
has spoken for you
I spit out words you
swallowed unsaid.
***
Armenian Eyes
`An Armenian’s eyes speaks before his tongue speaks
and continue to speak even when he is silent.’
Arshile Gorky
You call Armenian eyes
Byzantine and are half right.
You think Armenian silence
is diffidence not disillusion.
You don’t imagine politics
affecting how a person stands.
You do not know how
to read half smiles.
You think the language
mysterious and remote.
You label Armenian eyes
eyes of the East
when they look at you
with surprise at betrayal.
They turn downward, tired
of waiting for light to
reach the West.