WE THE PEOPLE
Monday, February 25th, 2013
BY MARIA TITIZIAN
Day Three
We are sitting at Cafe Vergnano on Northern Boulevard with a group of
friends, drinking coffee watching the clock. It’s almost 5 p.m. and we
know where we have to be. We pay the bill, gather up our belongings
and begin making our way to Liberty Square. The sky is overcast and
I check my bag to make sure my umbrella is there. It’s been three
days since the presidential elections and every day there have been
rallies. I am nervous and have difficulty catching my breath.
As we cross Tumanyan Street, we see that thousands have already
gathered and even more are streaming into the square. I begin to
breathe again. As we walk into the crowd, we see familiar faces. There
are artists, writers, environmentalists, ordinary men and women
and lots of young people. There is a peculiar silence as everyone,
standing shoulder to shoulder wait for the speeches to begin.
A group of men, holding sunflower seeds in little paper cones make
their way to where we are and assemble near us. In front of me is a
middle aged couple, quietly talking to one another. Their inaudible
conversation is mesmerizing even though I don’t know what they are
talking about, but assume it has something to do with hope. It’s
almost reverent.
I turn to my right and see a well known environmental activist, a
writer and my cousin standing together talking. My cousin, what can I
say about him? He is the brother I never had. He is the spitting image
of my grandfather, a Genocide survivor from Musa Dagh, my guardian
angel in heaven who I never got a chance to meet but with whom I share
an almost divine relationship. Ruben sees me and we hug each other
tightly and look at each other, I can feel the tears welling up in my
eyes. Every time I see him I am reminded of my family back in Canada
and the crushing garod I feel for them. Ruben was born in Armenia,
our fathers were first cousins. My four great uncles repatriated
to Armenia in 1947 and I met Ruben for the first time when we moved
to Armenia. We are not of the same political persuasion but today,
in Liberty Square those lines are blurred and it doesn’t matter.
The speeches begin. There is complete silence. The air is getting
colder and the crowd is swelling. I link arms with my friend Dzovig
who has arrived with her family. My husband and daughter stand behind
us; other friends and acquaintances surround us, and my people stand
strong, resolute, hopeful. My son is here too, somewhere in the crowd,
filming for Civilnet, which has been working around the clock covering
the events unfolding in our lives. We are all here. Here in the square,
we the people stand and wait. There is this crazy impossible love
pouring out of my heart and I’m having difficulty breathing once again.
One after another, the speeches take place. Young political activists,
environmentalists, representatives of civil society, presidential
candidates, and representatives of other political parties take the
podium and deliver their speeches. We can all feel a movement beginning
to take shape, we’re not entirely sure how it will develop or how it
will manifest itself but there is something taking place. In the middle
of the roster of speakers, Raffi Hovhanessyan announces that the ARF
has decided to join the movement and the crowd starts cheering. The
group of men in front of us with the sunflower seeds turn to each
other and say, “Ara, Dashnaknere miatsel en, ara es arten lurj e,”
(Hey, the ARF has joined in. This is serious) and they start phoning
their friends saying, “Ara, yegek, Dashnaknere miatsel en” (My cousin
Ruben turns to me and says, finally. I start to breathe again.
As dusk falls on the square, no one has moved, everyone is waiting to
hear what Raffi will say about his meeting with Serzh Sarkisian that
had taken place a day before. There is an electric anticipation. I
just keep hoping that a deal hasn’t been struck, that Raffi will make
the right decision, that the people are going to keep the pressure up.
After standing in the cold for two hours, listening to one speech
after another, Raffi finally steps up to the podium. He explains
to the people in the square, to the people watching the rally being
livestreamed throughout the country and around the world that all of
his proposals for a solution to the impasse have been rejected by the
president. He says that he will not back down, that he will take his
message the following day to Ashtarak, Vanadzor and Gyumri. He says
this is a movement for a new Armenia; he invites everyone to join
the movement. This is the Barev Revolution, the Barevolution. The
crowd goes wild, I think I might have whistled or jumped for joy or
floated, I can’t remember. We go home, elated and wait to congregate
to Liberty Square in two days.
Day Four And indeed, the following day Raffi and his team of
supporters begin their journey to the cities in the north of the
country where he had been able to pull in incredible numbers, beating
the incumbent in village after village, in city after city. Everywhere
they go, they are greeted by thousands of people. In some places,
the police have blocked roads from surrounding villages to ensure
that people don’t take part. Unbroken and resolute, they leave their
cars behind and walk, sometimes up to ten kilometers on foot to join
their compatriots. It seems nothing will stop them from participating
in what now appears to be a nationwide movement. We hear calls for a
student strike. My husband and I start wondering aloud, if university
students find the strength, the courage to boycott classes and join
this movement, then this will be unstoppable.
Day Five The next rally is set to take place on Sunday, February 24
at 3 p.m..
Once again we head toward Liberty Square. Hundreds of people are making
their way, walking, talking, holding hands. We enter the square and
make our way to our usual spot, it seems we have become regulars
here. At first we notice that there aren’t as many people as two
days ago, but still people are making their way into the square. Two
young girls are walking through the crowd asking people to dial 180
(the number of the electric company) to demand that officials turn
the electricity on, which has been turned off to prevent Raffi from
addressing his supporters. I take my phone out to dial when all of
a sudden I hear Raffi beginning his speech. Someone has turned the
electricity on.
He speaks for about 45 minutes, he tells us about his trip to the
north of the country, he informs us that the next two days he will
be traveling to the south of the country, making his way to Goris and
that on February 28, we will all gather once again in Liberty Square.
No one else speaks, there is no vision articulated, no strategy, no
game plan. A man standing behind me, who has driven here from Artashat
says, I drove all this way to hear his schedule? Is this it? Raffi
tells the crowd that he and his family and his supporters are going to
walk to Yerablur and whoever wanted could join him. The crowd begins
to disperse, Raffi, his family and supporters start walking toward
Yerablur, where the martyrs from the Karabakh war are buried.
I walk away slightly stunned, slightly deflated. The euphoria we
had felt two days ago begins to dissipate and I worry that without
a clearly defined vision, this movement may die in its infancy. We
meet up with friends, sit around and wonder what is happening. Does
he have a team of strategists, does he know where he’s going to take
this movement? Is he going to be able to keep up the pressure? What
will his demands be? Is he going to demand Sarkisian’s resignation,
call for new presidential or parliamentary elections? Is he going to
give some context to the Barevolution? Is he forging alliances with
other sectors of society, is he going to mobilize more people. It’s a
great idea to go to the regions of the country, but what message is
he taking? Sometimes he looks like a deer caught in the headlights,
surprised and unsure of how it is that he has come to be in this
position.
We all want so desperately to believe that change will come. Many
of us are not naïve, we realize that Serzh Sarkisian is not going
to back down, we understand that this movement is not about Raffi
Hovannisian or the presidency, it’s about ensuring fundamental change,
about the will and rule of the people, it’s about transparency and
accountability, it’s about the rule of law, about social cohesion
and justice, equality, it’s about our future.
I hope that different political forces, civil society organizations,
students and people will rally around this movement. I hope that our
people will continue to stand strong and firm. I hope that we all
understand what is at stake and I hope that Raffi can visualize and
articulate a vision around which we will unite. Time will tell.