Author: Emil Lazarian

Special Issue: Genocide Education for the 21st Century
The Armenian Weekly, April 2023

1. A photograph is many things. It’s a snapshot of a moment and an echo of a memory. In older photographs, it’s both what’s in the photo and the materiality of the photo itself–a valuable, often uncanny object in its own right. Photographs can document and amplify historical events. They can also explore notions of beauty, mystery, time and mortality. Photographs are so visceral and direct that they can elicit empathy and connections among people who might otherwise not understand or know one another’s stories. A powerful photograph will usually do all of the above. 

In communities that have been historically oppressed and scattered, photographs have a vital added function–they are witnesses. And that has been the driving force behind Project SAVE Armenian Photograph Archives, to save and share the dynamic narrative of the Armenian world through photographs and the stories they tell so that they won’t be forgotten.

Founded in 1975, Project SAVE is the largest archive in the world solely dedicated to photographs of the Armenian global experience. Its collections contain over 80,000 hardcopy, original photographs spanning over 160 years and several continents.

Today, the visual image has become a dominant, ubiquitous global language due to intense technological and cultural changes to the point where we take photographs for granted. But in the late 1960s, Project SAVE’s founder Ruth Thomasian instinctively understood the universal impact and importance of photographs, especially when she noticed that in the Armenian world there was little to no focus on preserving and documenting them. Without realizing it, she would become one of the most unique, pioneering individuals in the field of Armenian cultural work. 

Decades later, Project SAVE has become one of the important photography archives in North America.

Palanjian family of Erzinga. This extended Palanjian family had another almost identical photograph taken in 1914–the same matriarch, name not known, sitting in the same photo studio chair in Yerzinga, Historic Armenia, with the same backdrop and carpets. The date of this image is approximated as 1903 by using the age of Shooshanig Palanjian, the young girl at the right with the bow in her hair. Shooshanig had attended Euphrates College in Kharpert, Historic Armenia from 1912 to 1913, but was unable to return as the outbreak of war and the plight of Armenians worsened. Only she survived the Genocide of 1915. Photographer unknown. (Project SAVE Armenian Photograph Archives, Courtesy of Araxie Derderian)

2. It’s 1903 and fourteen members of the Palanjian family have gathered in a photo studio in Yerzinga to have a portrait taken. Sitting for a photograph at that time is still mostly for the privileged, so they’re dressed impeccably, like any middle to upper class Armenians in the Ottoman Empire. The children and grandchildren are gathered around the matriarch who lovingly holds the infant on her lap. Three of the children grip wildflowers casually in their tiny hands. Two of the girls have big white bows in their hair. Shooshanig, the younger one, sits on the edge of a chair by her mother, feet dangling. Years later, she’s the only one who would survive the Genocide. But for now, as the photograph is snapped, the warmth and bond between them all is evident in their eyes and demeanor. They are full of hope.

Satenig and Ardashes Megerdichian, Tokyo Japan, 1918. Sister and brother escaped the Genocide in Van and made their way to the United States going east through Russia, Siberia, Manchuria, Japan, Seattle and finally, Boston. Before leaving for America, Satenig and Arshag posed for the camera in traditional Japanese kimonos as a souvenir of their time in the country. (Project SAVE Armenian Photograph Archives, Courtesy of Kay Danielian Megerdichian)

3. It’s 1918 in Tokyo, Japan. A sister and brother are 5,035 miles away from their home in Van–a home and family no longer there. After escaping from the Genocide, they’ve clung to each other for dear life, somehow stumbling east through Siberia and Manchuria before finding themselves in Tokyo, where they decide to pose for a photo in traditional Japanese garb. Why? Perhaps they’re trying to make sense of a world that isn’t recognizable anymore. Perhaps they need proof that they’re still real and alive. They stare awkwardly past the camera as if to say, We can’t believe any of this this either, and we are scared.

Before the trivialization of photography in the digital age, it was often a ritual of wonderment. The camera was a cutting-edge miracle of modernity. It took time to set up and take one photograph. Nothing was taken for granted, from how the subjects were dressed, to the backdrop, to how people were posed. The taking of a photograph was an event. And the physical photo itself then could be an object of comfort or elucidation, giving people pummeled by massive changes something to hold onto and say, That was us, we were there, and maybe our story matters. 

For Satenig and Ardashes Megerdichian, their story progressed from Tokyo to Seattle and finally to Boston. And that photograph traveled with them as a living relic, to remind them of what was, what wasn’t and what could have been. 

They are gone now, but that photograph lives on at Project SAVE, which means Satenig and Ardashes live on. The survivors of the Genocide and thousands of Armenian immigrants before that and after that are gone, so it’s even more valuable and impactful that they continue to exist in the tens of thousands of photographs in Project SAVE’s collections. They and their stories would be forgotten without the immense photographic evidence painstakingly gathered and cared for in this one organization. 

4. I had never known about Vasken and Berjouhie Ekizian. They were siblings who lived somewhere in the Ottoman Empire with their family. Luckily, their parents could afford to have a portrait taken. So there’s a striking photo from 1910 with little Vasken and Berjouhie dressed beautifully, each one holding a toy in their hands. The photographer thought to stand Berjouhie on a chair to be at the same height as her brother. She places her tiny hand lovingly and confidently on her brother’s shoulder. They look at the camera. Both will be killed in the Genocide a few years later.

Siblings Vasken and Berjouhie Ekizian, c. 1910-1914. Both were later killed in the Genocide. Photographer Unknown. (Project SAVE Armenian Photograph Archives, Courtesy of Mary Tooroonjian McDaniel and Alice Tooroonjian Sangster)

But because the photograph survived and is now at Project SAVE, their spirits and relevance can stay alive. We know they existed, mattered, and were part of a vibrant, extensive and historic Armenian community in historic Armenia (much of present day Turkey) because of this one photograph. Imagine if it too did not exist.

Like the Ekizians, the stories from before, during and right after the Armenian Genocide are often fragmented and difficult to piece together into a cohesive narrative, and for good reason. Moving pictures, photographic technology and audio recording were not as ubiquitous as they became by the time of the Holocaust. And the geo-political position of the Ottoman Empire in relation to other world powers, especially in the near apocalyptic chaos of World War I, made it difficult for the Genocide to gain the focus it deserved. There’s also the still stunning fact that the word genocide did not exist at the time (it didn’t exist until Raphael Lemkin coined it in 1944). 

So, beyond the catastrophe unleashed on Ottoman Armenians at a time when there wasn’t the technology to more extensively document it nor the geopolitical will to stop it, there was also no way to talk about it because it was an event that hadn’t been experienced before quite in that manner and on that scale. Consequently, the diaspora has been collectively stuck in the ripple effect of that trauma. And at times, this has negatively impacted the diaspora’s ability to plan and think about a future that’s more imaginative, free of victimhood and centered on where it lives rather than a romanticized faraway country that has its own government, citizens, interests and realities. 

Photographs can be a grounding force that helps recalibrate one’s perspective. Even when we initially don’t recognize the people in photographs, we recognize ourselves somehow. It’s a familiarity and sense of connection that only photographs can ignite. Strangers become familiar and the past seeps into the present so that we can better understand who we are, where we are and what we want to happen next. 

5. It’s the 1920s. Three teenagers become friends in an orphanage in Torino, Italy. The orphanage is run by the Mekhitarists (another important but fragile diasporan entity). Their villages decimated and their families gone, the orphans become one another’s family. Somehow, it’s luckily decided by the administrators to have photographs taken. For whatever reason, these three friends are chosen as the subjects. They’re dressed in crisp white shirts and their hair is shiny and combed. Without knowing the context, one might think they’re the usual close school friends and not orphans who’ve survived a massive historical trauma. The girl in the middle leans her head gently towards the one on the left. They both give a look that’s almost typical of a teenager, aloof and cool (or trying to be). The girl on the right clasps her hands on the middle one’s shoulder and rests her head while smiling at the camera. She has a watch or bracelet on her delicate wrist.

Orphans of the Armenian Genocide Mekhitarist (Armenian Roman Catholic) Orphanage, Torino, Italy, mid-1920s. Photographer Unknown. (Project SAVE Armenian Photograph Archives, Courtesy of Adrina Boyajian Tutunjian)

We don’t know their names or where they ended up after this photograph. But because this photograph is safe and sound at Project SAVE, we know that they existed. We can preserve and share their part in the broader, diverse story of that period.  

Nevart Chalikian with her first husband Garabed Zakarian on a beach. Exact location and date unknown, c. late 1920s-early 1930s. Photographer Unknown. (Project SAVE Armenian Photograph Archives, Courtesy of Nevart Hadji Bedrosian Chalikian)

The years right after the Genocide were profoundly bittersweet. Those who survived had to pick up the pieces and continue somehow. And part of being able to survive is finding a way to have hope again. It was those people who laid the foundations for the dynamic and vibrant communities in the diaspora around the world. People like Garabed Zakarian and Nevart Chalikian, Genocide survivors who found themselves on a beach in the United States around fifteen years after losing everything. They sit for a photograph with poise and warmth, two broken people transforming themselves into Americans.

Most of the people in the photographs at Project SAVE are in the process of becoming. In addition to being Armenian, they are becoming Syrian, French, American, Egyptian, Argentinian, Canadian, Lebanese, Greek, Polish, British, Cuban, Bulgarian–they are becoming a part of the fabric of their new home countries. In this way, the immense photographic archive at Project SAVE is also a unique visual record of the countless countries that Armenians have called home, where they reclaimed hope.

6. Over one hundred years after the Genocide, there are forces yet again that want to erase or lie about the existence of Armenians. Project SAVE continues to make sure they don’t succeed. For nearly 50 years, it has cataloged over 80,000 photographs that provide direct and clear evidence of the rich and expansive culture and history of Armenians over the past 160 years. But there needs to be renewed investment so that organizations like Project SAVE can grow into their true potential to have more sustainable and long-term impact on a larger scale; otherwise we’re just talking to ourselves and preaching to the choir. 

Three teenagers in Torino look out at us from the past. Small children and elderly parents in Yerzinga look out at us. Brothers and sisters, friends and strangers look out at us. They look at us from Tokyo, the United States, the Ottoman Empire, from everywhere Armenians have had vibrant, complicated, sad, beautiful lives, no matter how short or long. They all live on at Project SAVE Photograph Archives. They look out at us from photographs and ask, What’s the plan to reimagine, rejuvenate and properly invest in diaspora organizations that we helped build and that have given so much to the Armenian community and beyond? 

Organizations like Project SAVE will not exist forever without larger investments and connecting to the wider world. Those who came before us did their best to create vibrant communities even though they could have easily folded under the weight of grief and the struggles of immigrant life. Many of them now exist in the photographs at Project SAVE. They are witnesses to what was and what is. What happens next is up to you and me.

I never thought the day would come that I would witness the ceding of historic Armenian land (the ancient province of Artsakh) to a barbaric oppressor. My generation has debated the loss of Western Armenia, Cilicia, Kars, Ardahan, Nakhichevan and initially Artsakh from a “call for justice” perspective. We weren’t there when these travesties of justice occurred. I can only imagine the anguish of our ancestors in 1920 when they were literally forced to sign the Treaty of Kars, reducing Armenia to its current size and trading a loss of sovereignty to prevent continued Turkish genocide. The logic was Soviet oppression and a better alternative than annihilation under the advancing Turkish nationalists (Kemal) and a new state of Tartars called Azerbaijan. One hundred years later, Armenia is still under duress and finding few allies; the logic is the same. Let’s sacrifice Artsakh so the 29.8 square kilometers survives in the current Republic. 

We have experienced manic extremes of joy and depression in the last 35 years. The miracle of liberating Artsakh inspired Armenians everywhere as the first instance of reclaiming lost land in a century. We were long on brave military resources and short on governing capability. For all our enthusiasm and rhetoric, Armenia never recognized Artsakh, and the population remained relatively flat. Millions in investment were supplied by the diaspora and Armenia, but we fell behind the curve militarily and diplomatically. We allowed the false narrative of Azeri “territorial integrity” to prevail over the “self-determination” of the Armenians. With a duplicitous and vile neighbor in Azerbaijan violating ceasefires and engaging in territorial incursions, we failed to build up our military to defend our borders. This is the number one priority of a sovereign nation. With the criminal behavior tolerated by a self-indulgent world, we absorbed the crushing blow in the war of 2020. Following that defeat, we descended into a defeatist nation of victims. Losing a war should be viewed as a chapter in the book, but never the last chapter. We pushed for the recognition of Artsakh but refused to recognize it ourselves. We avoided the recognition to prevent war, but war was constant. We played by the rules set down by Russia and the OSCE, but Azeri aggression was never identified as the responsible source. We were allocated equal blame. Finally, we have arrived at the “peace agenda” era but have offered up major concessions, such as recognizing Azeri territorial integrity without reciprocation. This is not a negotiation. It is a waiting game by the Azeris until they receive unconditional surrender. Proponents of the peace agenda have stated that the position of recognizing Azeri territorial integrity for the “rights and security” of the Artsakh Armenians and peace for the Republic of Armenia is the practical and correct approach. Perhaps, but who will guarantee the “rights and security” of Artsakh? Without any definition, it is comparable to no legal status for Artsakh for 35 years of dialogue. It became an enabler for Azeri aggression. The genocidal intent of the Azeris is clear. The Russians have violated their own brokered trilateral agreement of November 2020 by failing to enforce peace in Artsakh. The Europeans and United States? They will never commit the resources needed to keep the fox out of the henhouse. Ask the Georgians about the support in 2014 from the West; Georgia is much more important to the West than Armenia. 

The summation of the current “negotiation” is clear; Armenia is offering major concessions, and Azerbaijan has offered nothing. Prime Minister Nikol Pashinyan has repeated his offer of recognizing the territorial integrity of Azerbaijan several times with slightly altered detail. His latest statement this week explicitly states Artsakh in the Azeri territorial recognition plan, almost as if repeating it will finally bring force to a reciprocal statement from Azerbaijan. No such luck. The Armenian strategy is a reasonable one if dealing with a good faith negotiating partner. Azerbaijan is the polar opposite. Their objective is to “integrate” the Armenians into Azerbaijan. This is diplomatic language for cultural deprivation, forced migration and ethnic cleansing. The UN Charter calls it genocide. The other mistaken assumption is that ceding Artsakh will bring peace to Armenia. This is based on satisfying Aliyev’s demands and that the West will back any territorial attacks on Armenia proper. Aliyev has an insatiable appetite for oppressing Armenians. He has established a racist narrative to build support at home. It should sound familiar. The Ottoman Turks used the same approach to fire the Turkish and Kurdish commoners and divert attention from their woeful policies. Aliyev has publicly stated many times that Syunik (Zangezur) and all of Armenia are “western Azerbaijan.” The West will only offer words of protest, and we know where that has taken us. There are no surprises here. The enemy is predictable. Our resolve is not. Tragically, the people of Artsakh disagree with how they are being represented. Armenia’s approach will leave little for Artsakh and Baku to discuss.

We still have to sign an agreement. With all positioning rhetoric aside, any agreement signed by the prime minister has to be reviewed by the Constitutional Court and the Parliament. In the 1980s, drug problems were raging in America. Solutions were short, and lives were being destroyed. The First Lady at the time, Nancy Reagan, sponsored a major national anti-drug campaign called “Just Say No.” Many people thought it was an oversimplification of a complex problem. There was one message, however, that did take hold. We are responsible for our lives, and the decision to engage in drugs is usually one that we make for ourselves. Her message was to seize control of your life through education, career development and sustaining interpersonal relations in order to develop the armor needed to resist the temptations of drugs. Armenia is still the party that has to agree. They may be pressured, coerced and deceived, but it is their decision. Once Armenia signs and ratifies an agreement with Azerbaijan, it will be nearly impossible to abrogate. Most agreements are broken through overt military action. It is doubtful that Armenia would engage in unilateral aggression. The Europeans and the United States are anxious for Armenia to sign and pat themselves on the back for diplomatic victories. Justice has little to do with any of these discussions. Self-interest is in control. Armenia needs to seriously think about an agreement that in practice serves its self interests. Today’s framework does not in my view.

I have heard a great deal about Armenia’s lack of leverage due to their loss in 2020. Losing never deterred Aliyev, and he has yet to be punished for thousands of violations and ignoring the International Court of Justice ruling demanding the opening of the corridor. Some of the leverage we lack has to do with our confidence and defending “red lines.” We are a defeated nation only if we believe that to be true. When you publicly cede Artsakh, the argument against aggressive negotiations loses credibility. Just what are Armenia’s “red lines”? It sounds like “security and rights” for Artsakh and recognition of Armenia’s 29,800 square kilometers are the two major ones. If that is true, Armenia cannot continue to show more of its cards (concessions) until Azerbaijan acknowledges these two “red lines.” Anything less puts Armenia in a spiral. Just how does the Armenian government define “rights and security?” Empty promises from Azerbaijan? If Armenia does not negotiate with the “red lines” as “must happens,” then they will be viewed as temporary positions. Armenia seems to be relying on Azerbaijan either recognizing Armenia’s territory or by default publicly denying their commitment to peace. The assumption would be that the West would then pressure Azerbaijan. The West is very interested in an agreement but has shown no interest in enforcement. Over the last 30 years, every time Azerbaijan made outrageous threats or violated agreements, the third party mediator tolerated their behavior to draw them back to the negotiating table. Mediators realize it takes two parties for an agreement. Why can’t Armenia leverage their role as one of the two parties to secure concessions that are necessary and reasonable?

Why is Armenia so anxious to publicly repeat their concessions on territorial integrity? Pashinyan has specifically stated that Armenia will recognize the territory of Azerbaijan as the 86.6 thousand square kilometers, which includes Artsakh, agreed to at the Alma-Ata Declaration of 1991. This document was the basis for establishing post-Soviet borders and the Commonwealth of Independent States (CIS) after the fall of the Soviet Union. It is incorrect to state that Alma-Ata included Artsakh since Artsakh had legally sought reunification with Armenia, and the status was contested at that time. At worst from the Armenian perspective, it is still unresolved. During the immediate time of the Alma-Ata Declaration, Artsakh defended itself from the Azeri military response, and sovereignty was established. Artsakh did not transfer to Azerbaijan when the Soviet Union dissolved. The inclusion of Artsakh in Azerbaijan is based on an entirely false premise. That being said, legality and morality do not seem to be the criteria of this process. It is driven by power, leverage and self-interest. What can practically be done at this point? Armenia must continue to articulate its “redlines” of “rights and security” for Artsakh. They must be specifically outlined and enforced with a defined guarantee. The Artsakh Defense Army will be a point of contention, but Armenia has no right to insist on disarming the population. This must be included in the definition of “rights and security.” This will be challenging given Aliyev’s appetite for total capitulation, but nevertheless is a must. Armenia needs to convince the mediating parties that without this guarantee, the Armenians will be subjected to genocide. The second redline is the recognition of Armenia’s borders on the Soviet-era maps of 29.8 thousand square kilometers. This cannot be based on mutual respect, since there is none. Third party multinational peacekeepers must be stationed for a number of years. Without these fundamental objectives delivered, the Armenians will lose more than Artsakh and Armenia. Our dignity, the foundation of our motivation and will as a nation will be damaged. This is the wall that we must defend. Please do not sign this away.