TIED TO THE LAND: DOCUMENTING WESTERN ARMENIA
By George Aghjayan // September 24, 2013 in Featured, Headline, Opinion
Each time I return from Western Armenia, the reaction I get from
family and friends is the same: Why? Why do I subject myself to the
emotionally draining experience of viewing first-hand the destruction
of Armenian cultural heritage? Viewing my pictures only deepens their
conviction that they could not make such a trip.
Armenian monastery in Moks near Van. (Photo by George Aghjayan)
Beyond the emotional strain, many Armenians view traveling to Western
Armenia as counter to our national interests. One argument is that
such travel by Armenians contributes to the Turkish tourism industry.
Another argument against documenting the remaining evidence of
Armenian heritage is that it exposes these structures to further
destruction. Lastly, many will never feel secure traveling to the
region as long as it is part of Turkey.
It is not my intent to dispel these reasons as unjustified. Quite
honestly, travel to Western Armenia is not for everyone. However,
I think it is important to explain why I, personally, have made this
journey a number of times over the past three years.
The first reason is rather clear. I spend significant time researching
and documenting the previously Armenian villages of Western Armenia.
Many of the names of the villages have been changed and a large number
of villages no longer exist. There is only so much research that can
be done through books and other sources; field research is a critical
component. The history of the villages as well as the significant
Armenian structures that remain are retained by the local population.
Oftentimes, it is the only way to verify the location as well as the
current state of these monuments.
On a recent trip, we were in a village just on the other side of
a hill from the Armenian monastery we were looking for. We asked a
local child where the Armenian church was, but he didn’t know what
we were talking about. Finally, he said, “You mean where the gold
is?” Time and time again, in every location, there is evidence of the
treasure-seekers that operated with total disregard for the damage
they inflicted on the structures. This is not a new phenomenon; it has
been going on for centuries on these lands. Today, it is in search
of Armenian gold. A hundred years ago it was in search of Hittite,
Assyrian, and Urartuan gold.
Where exactly do they think the Armenians got all this gold and other
wealth? The villages have not changed in 100 years, and all of the
resources available to Armenians then are still available in the
villages today. It is not as if the Armenians had a gold mine. The
gold the locals search for does not exist. The small amount of wealth
that industrious Armenians were able to miraculously accumulate has
long since disappeared. I do have one hope, though: that each church
and monastery had important records and that, one day, some of these
lost treasures will be found in the homes of villagers and returned
to their rightful owners.
Some will point to these few examples as evidence that traveling
to Armenian monasteries and churches only promotes the notion that
treasure is buried there. This impression is further strengthened
when traveling with detailed maps, as I do. Yet, for over 60 years,
very few Armenians ever traveled to Western Armenia, and it is not as
if Armenian monuments were all preserved during those years. Quite
the contrary, hundreds of churches, schools, and monasteries were
destroyed during those years without witnesses.
Yes, the destruction continues unabated, but by traveling year after
year, the destruction can be documented and exposed. Exposing it has
raised awareness in important circles. It is yet to be seen if that
will yield positive results. However, ignoring the destruction has
not stopped it. That is undeniable.
Recently, I read two exceptional articles, one by Varak Ketsemanian
(“Dersim: A Facet of the Silent Revolution in Turkey”) and the other
by Raffi Bedrosyan (“Remembering the Dead and Living Victims of
the Armenian Genocide”). Both touched on another important aspect
of traveling to Western Armenia-the Armenians who still remain on
that land.
There are many things that have changed over the past decade in Turkey:
the murder of Hrant Dink, the publication of Fethiye Cetin’s book My
Grandmother, the reopening of Surp Giragos church in Diyarbakir. Each
of these events, and others, have contributed to an awakening of
“Armenianness” on our ancestral lands. Maybe it is not so much an
awakening as it is allowing a presence that never ended to once again
assert itself.
While the movement is still small-almost unnoticeable to most-it
is growing and our continued presence on the land is an important
component to process. Personally, it is very rewarding for me to meet
those that have retained their connection to Armenians through the
decades since the genocide. In fact, I view this as just one component
of the demographic crisis Armenians face. There is the exodus from the
Republic of Armenia, the turmoil in important diasporan communities
(Iraq, Syria, and Lebanon), the assimilation of Armenians in the
diaspora, and the “hidden” and assimilated thousands in Western
Armenia. We cannot ignore any one of these.
Finally, related to this last point, there is the mantra of a free,
independent, and united Armenia. I believe this to be an achievable
goal. It is one thing to not believe it to be possible, it is another
to believe yet have no plan to achieve it. For me, the way is clear:
For the Armenian presence to truly return to our lands, it is critical
to assimilate back into Armenian culture the thousands that still
live on the land. They are thirsting for it!
If we remain absent, think of the message that is sent to the
government in Turkey and the people on the ground. I go because it is
important for me to show that even though I was born in the diaspora,
of diasporan parents, after 100 years I am still tied to that land. I
cannot be separated from it!
When I step foot on the land, see the mountains, drink the water…I
feel my blood is from the soil and my ancestors are calling.