Karabakh police and emergency situations service to be incorporated into internal affairs ministry

News.am, Armenia
Jan 21 2021  

The Standing Committee on State and Legal Affairs of the National Assembly of Artsakh (Nagorno-Karabakh) today convened a session, as reported on the official website of the National Assembly.

The issues on the agenda for the sitting were discussed.

Minister of Justice Karen Danielyan introduced the bills on making amendments and supplements to the Laws on the State Service for Emergency Situations of Artsakh, on the Police and on Service in the Police.

The bills propose to incorporate the State Service for Emergency Situations and the Police into one body, that is, the Ministry of Internal Affairs.

After the minister answered questions from the MPs, the bill was accepted with 1 “against” and 4 “in favor”.

Opposition MP Edmon Marukyan reiterates support for formation of interim government

Panorama, Armenia
Jan 21 2021

At a meeting with Armenian Prime Minister Nikol Pashinyan, the opposition Bright Armenia faction was proposed to sign a memorandum of understanding, according to which the party would not nominate a candidate for prime minister after Pashinyan’s possible resignation, Bright Armenia leader Edmon Marukyan told a briefing at the parliament on Thursday.

However, the lawmaker said he rejected the proposal, reiterating the formation of a transitional government and his nomination as interim prime minister as his team’s priority.

No further discussions were held due to the absence of a consensus on the authorities’ proposal, the MP added.

“Just because we demand the resignation of the prime minister and snap elections does not mean that we will not nominate our candidate for the post of prime minister. We have made it clear from the very beginning. The parliament has 132 members. The opposition MPs and those who have left My Step bloc make up almost 50 people, they [the ruling bloc] still hold 82 seats. Are they not sure about their faction’s decision, or do they think that there will be people who will vote for me? This is a different question,” he said.

“Either they have to admit that they don’t trust their team, or they have to resign smoothly,” he said.

The opposition leader also said that he had proposed Pashinyan a “counter-memorandum”, according to which, if the premiere resigns and Edmon Marukyan becomes the head of the caretaker government, he will resign on the day set in the memorandum and the parliament will be dissolved.

The “counter memorandum” proposed by Marukyan was rejected, the MP said. 

Robert Kocharyan greeted with applause outside the Yerevan court

Panorama, Armenia
Jan 19 2021

Armenia’s former president Robert Kocharyan approached his supporters outside the Yerevan Court of General Jurisdiction on Monday, where he had arrived to attend the hearing in the case concerning the alleged overthrow of the constitutional order. The citizens greeted Kocharyan with applause and chants “Kocharyan – Hero.”

On Tuesday, the hearing in the case of Robert Kocharyan and three other former top officials – Seyran Ohanyan, Armen Gorgyan and Yuri Khachaturov has resumed, presided by Judge Anna Danibekyan. 

The ex-officials stand accused of overthrowing Armenia’s constitutional order during the 2008 post-election unrest in Yerevan, but all of them deny any wrongdoing. Since midday, dozens of citizens gathered outside the court building for a protest. They held posters, reading:  “Those who surrendered to Turks organize a trial fo,  those who brought Turks to knees,” “Authorities who sold Shushi vs Heroes who liberated Shushi.”

“I am thankful to you for being here. Thank you for your support. I have been with you and will always be. My request is not to stay here as the  court has announced a break. Go home. I am really touched for all your support,” said Kocharyan. 

Sports: Exclusive: Arthur Abraham announces end of career

News.am, Armenia
Jan 15 2021

In an interview with NEWS.am Sport, professional IBF middleweight and WBO super-middleweight boxer Arthur Abraham officially announced the end of his boxing career and added that he wants to spend time with his family, children and parents.

The 40-year-old Germany-based boxer is currently in Yerevan with his family. He hasn’t been in the ring for a long time now, but hasn’t made an official announcement about the end of his career yet. During the interview, Abraham officially announced that he is not going to participate in duels anymore.

Abraham’s last duel was on April 28, 2019 in the German city of Offenburg where he beat Danish boxer Patrick Nielsen. The Armenian boxer has scored 47 victories and been defeated 6 times throughout his career.

Watch the interview at

Turkish press: ‘6 Artists in Search of a Precedent’ draws connection between past, present

Fırat Engin,

Akbank Sanat, a creative center that has stimulated the dynamics of contemporary art, promoted studies in this field and supported young artists since its inception, is hosting a new exhibition prepared with a unique concept. Curated by Hasan Bülent Kahraman, “6 Artists in Search of a Precedent” features the works of six artists and the works of those they chose as their predecessors.

In the exhibition, six artists born in or after 1970 establish their places in the art world and then showcase the works of their predecessors. Murat Akagündüz picked Avni Lifij as his predecessor, Alpin Arda Bağcık chose Irfan Önürmen, Ramazan Can selected Şakir Gökçebağ, Fırat Engin chose Sarkis Zabunyan, Güneş Terkol picked Gülsün Karamustafa, and Burcu Yağcıoğlu chose Semiha Berksoy.

The exhibition draws a connection between the six artists and the six predecessors through their iconic works. While the works create a bridge between the past and the present, they also show the bond between the traditional and the contemporary, which remains close and strong.

Describing the exhibition, curator Kahraman said: “There is a misconception brought about by the harsh modernization in Turkey: the new, the modern and finally the contemporary are severed from the past. However, there is no such thing. The modern structure of memory and remembrance keeps the past alive through another understanding.”

Gülsün Karamustafa,” Carpet with Horses,” 1986, textile collage, 90 by 133 centimeters.

6 artists

Akagündüz, who was born in 1970 in northwestern Kocaeli province, graduated from the Fine Arts Faculty of Mimar Sinan University with a degree in painting. Especially known for his lithography and fresco works, the artist was also a founding member of the Hafriyat Art Initiative between 1995 and 2010. The references to art history in his works are what make them remarkable.

Born in 1988 in western Izmir province, Bağcık graduated from the Painting Department of Dokuz Eylül University in 2007. The artist, who currently lives and works in Istanbul, draws inspiration from defining moments in the history of the 20th century in his photorealist paintings. While revealing his thoughts on authority and the delusion of power in his creations, Bağcık also scrutinizes the notion of reality that photography presents with his oil paintings and pencil drawings.

Can, who was also born in 1988 in western Manisa province, graduated from Gazi University’s Fine Arts Education Department in 2011. The artist’s intriguing paintings, installations, sculptures, carpets and weaving offer viewers a chance to discover the old Anatolian tradition of Shamanism, rituals and totems. Therapeutic rituals he underwent to cure an illness he suffered during his childhood were the first inspiration for his works. He, then, researched the rituals and realized that they are based on Shamanism and certain mythological stories. Certain habits that continue today help the artist handle current issues of modern life from a Shamanist perspective. While the artist defines his own identity, memory and time, he bases his inspiration on the land where he was born and people who were once nomads but switched to a settled lifestyle.

Alpin Arda Bağcık, “Perisiazin,” 2017, oil on canvas, 105 by 150 centimeters.

Born in 1982 in the capital Ankara, Engin graduated from the Sculpture Department of Hacettepe University. The artist continued his works at Ecole Nationale Superieure D’art De Bourges art school in France and took part in many national and international projects in various cities including New York and Egypt’s Alexandria and Cairo. Focusing on social issues in his creations, Engin utilizes different types of materials such as neon, sound, wood, stone and metal.

Terkol, born in 1981, graduated from the Painting Department of Mimar Sinan University. Drawing inspiration from her surroundings and collecting stories, the artist weaves them into her sewing pieces, videos, sketches and musical compositions. The Istanbul-based artist is also a member of HaZaVuZu artist collective.

Born in 1981 in Istanbul, Yağcıoğlu also graduated from the Painting Department of Mimar Sinan University. Including patterns, video, collages and painting in her practice, the artist focuses on information circulation, nature perceptions and cultural hierarchies in her works. She feeds her productions with visual systems like animations, books and encyclopedias.

İrfan Önürmen, “Archive II Death = Death,” 2001, installation, glued newspapers.

Predecessors

Lifij was one of the leading figures of the generation of 1914, who are also known as the Turkish Impressionists. The artists of this group were sent to receive education in Paris and returned to Turkey upon the outbreak of World War I. They brought impressionism back with them to the country. Lifij even played a leading role in the spread of Western-style painting in the Ottoman Empire. The artist’s works covering a wide range of genres such as self-portraits, pochades, landscapes and compositions with figures can be evaluated as the modern pieces of his time.

Önürmen is one of the representatives of Turkish figurative painting. Critically questioning cultural and social change and transformation, the artist created a different language for himself by using diverse materials such as tulle, jeans, lace and shirt collars on his canvases. His work reveals the relationships between personal and public experience through the lens of contemporary media. Önürmen also addresses the impact of mass media on the human experience.

Gökçebağ is a visual artist especially known for his sculptures and installations in which he transforms everyday objects into hybrid entities. While combining different materials, he changes the usual function of objects and alters the position from which people view them.

Fırat Engin, “Frequency series I,” 2019, polyester frame, wood, neon, 120 by 130 centimeters.

Turkish-born Armenian artist Zabunyan is simply known as Sarkis in the art world. As a leading conceptual artists, Sarkis uses installation, photography, watercolor and video to bring together the legacies of art and cinema with the intellectual traditions of East and West. His art explores issues of presence and absence, place and identity, and permanence and transience. Drawing on the mystical traditions of the East, he is particularly interested in the relationship between time and memory and emphasizes the temporary nature of matter and experience.

Karamustafa is one of the most celebrated female artists in Turkey. Using historical and personal narratives to create her art, the artist’s productions are a response to the modernization period of Turkey. They revolve around sociopolitical themes including gender, exile and migration.

Opera singer and painter Berksoy is one of the most significant figures in Turkey’s modern cultural history. The artist’s paintings reflect her own life, creating a visual diary of both her storied career and her vital and turbulent inner world. While important characters or scenes from operas and plays are depicted in her works, one can see deeply personal and sometimes painful subjects from the artist’s inner world as well.

In the show, the works of the six contemporary artists and their chosen predecessors, placed side by side, talk to each other in a metaphorical sense by proving that all productions feed off of each other like living organisms. The selection can be viewed until Feb. 13. The gallery is free of charge Tuesdays to Fridays.

Russia will welcome any humanitarian initiative coming from Armenia and Azerbaijan – Zakharova

Public Radio of Armenia
Jan 15 2021
– Public Radio of Armenia

Russia will welcome any initiatives of humanitarian nature coming from Azerbaijani and Armenian public figures, official representative of the Russian Foreign Ministry Maria Zakharova told reporters today.

“We would in every possible way welcome the establishment of a direct dialogue between the Azerbaijani and Armenian intellectuals, as well as the holding of joint humanitarian events by the two countries,” Zakharova said.

She added that Russia believes such initiatives contribute to the formation of an atmosphere of reconciliation, trust, mutual understanding, benefit both the Azerbaijani and Armenian peoples and in principle, the entire region of the South Caucasus, and therefore the Russian Federation.

“The Russian side will certainly support such humanitarian actions if Baku and Yerevan demonstrate a sincere desire to move in this direction,” she said.

CivilNet: The Failures and the Prospects of the Nagorno-Karabakh Negotiations

CIVILNET.AM

14:36

Caucasus Edition: Journal of Conflict Transformation hosted its first webinar in the “New War and Peace” series.

In September, 2020, the failure of the Nagorno-Karabakh peace process resulted in the Second Karabakh war, upending the decades-long status quo in the South Caucasus. The 44-day war claimed thousands of lives, including civilians, incited a new wave of human rights violations, and drastically redrew the realities on the ground. The conflict led to the introduction of Russian peacekeepers, increased the influence of regional powers, particularly Turkey, and decreased the influence of global actors. 

On January 12, Caucasus Edition invited two speakers to discuss the past, present, and future of the Nagorno-Karabakh peace process: Dr. Gerard Libaridian, Professor Emeritus of History at the University of Michigan in Ann Arbor and former foreign and security policy advisor to the first President of the Republic of Armenia, and Mr. Zaur Shiriyev, South Caucasus Analyst at International Crisis Group and a former Academy Associate with the Russia and Eurasia Programme at Chatham House. The webinar was co-hosted by the editors of the Caucasus Edition: Dr. Philip Gamaghelyan and Dr. Sevil Huseynova.

According to Gerard Libaridian, one of the reasons that the peace process failed was that both sides invested their entire history, culture, and identity into it. The conflict, therefore, became central to domestic development. For both sides, staying in power meant taking a maximalist and nationalist stance. The parties did not formulate minimum positions, only maximum positions that left no space for compromise. Further, both sides felt comfortable taking their chances with war and assumed it would work to their benefit, preferring that route to a compromise solution.

According to Zaur Shiriyev, the destructive war in the 1990s created a temporary deterrence against a new war. With time, many policy makers grew comfortable with the status quo, assuming that the 1994 ceasefire will hold up indefinitely, while interrupted by minor skirmishes, as none of the sides would be willing to engage in a new war as it would be mutually destructive. This was assumed to be a deterrence for both sides, and even if they tried, the outside powers, especially Russia, would not allow a massive escalation. There was also a misperception that the Nagorno-Karabakh conflict was not a priority in Azerbaijan and the impact on the Azerbaijani society of unresolved questions such as the return of the IDPs was underestimated. All these factors created a misperception that negotiations which do not deliver any results can continue indefinitely.

Both speakers highlighted the failures of the official negotiation process. According to Shiriyev, Azerbaijan and Armenia had different, and often unrealistic, expectations from the Minsk Group. The sides often expected the mediators to continually offer new solutions or to act as arbiters, pressuring the opposing side to accept concessions. The last substantive proposal from the Group came in the late 2000s in the form of Madrid Principles. Since then, the Minsk Group has acted as more of a messenger between the sides than as a mediator. The July 2020 escalation was the final straw that led Azerbaijani side to consider a military option of the solution. Unfortunately, these warning signs were ignored by the mediators.

Libaridian agrees that the Minsk Group has been ineffective. On the one hand, the Minsk Group co-chairs agreed on the fundamental question regarding Nagorno-Karabakh – they all ruled out its independence as a solution and agreed that the territories around Karabakh must be returned to Azerbaijan. As three UN Security Council members, Russia, The United States, and France also command massive military, diplomatic, and economic resources that they could leverage to advance peace. In some instances they also helped the parties come close to a solution. Unfortunately, the three co-chairs also had varying, and often conflicting, interests in the region and at no point chose to leverage their resources to pressure the sides to get over the final few hurdles and reach an agreement.  

The recent war and the November 9 agreement that stopped it changed not only the dynamics on the ground but also the extent of these global actors’ influence in the region. The agreement was unilaterally mediated by Russia, which sidelined France as an actor. By that time the U.S. had already withdrawn its role in the region, and perhaps even the world. 

Shiriyev expects to see a new policy from Azerbaijan that would consider the conflict with Armenia resolved and start working towards peace. The focus should shift towards economic opportunities. Importantly, when it comes to the question of Nagorno-Karabakh’s status, Shiriyev considers the current Azerbaijani proposal of cultural autonomy to be only the starting negotiating position put forth with an understanding that eventually a more advanced status, presumably political autonomy, could be negotiated. 

Shiriyev, however, sees a risk within the differing interpretations of the November 9 ceasefire agreement. In his view, the Azerbaijani assumption is that the Russian peacekeeping deployment should amount to the parallel withdrawal of Armenian troops from Nagorno-Karabakh. While the Russian and the Armenian interpretation is that all forces within Nagorno-Karabakh should remain in the positions they held as of November 9, 2020, when this agreement came into force. 

The second issue is the question of whether there will be lines of contact between Azerbaijan and Armenia in any region, or a chance of reintegration or more cooperation in this area, which is within the zone of Russian control. Based on that, it is likely there will be a multitude of similar questions about electricity, the impact of humanitarian issues, the life of the local population, and mining. There are innumerable small, yet very important, issues which affect the life of the local population on both sides.

Addressing the issue of status, Libaridian similarly stressed that the current choice is one between ethno-religious autonomy, providing cultural, religious, and educational rights on the one hand, and an administrative-political territorially defined autonomy on the other. He also recommended considering the November 9 document and the January 11 Moscow statement as two parts of the same agreement. Analyzing these two documents jointly, we can come to the following conclusions: first, the OSCE Minsk Group was not involved in their development and signing, second, the documents were signed by political officials, not military leaders. Therefore, this is more than a ceasefire agreement, even if it is not yet a full settlement. 

The documents do settle two key issues. The first is that the formerly occupied territories are now under Azerbaijani control and cannot be used as a bargaining chip by Armenia. Second, while the negotiations around status can continue, what is internationally recognized as Azerbaijan is now understood by all parties to be Azerbaijan. In other words, the independence of Nagorno-Karabakh is off the table and the status negotiations will be centered on the extent of the autonomy. 

Libaridian also emphasized that apart from content-specific changes, the January 11 meeting in Moscow also highlighted the current power disparity around the negotiations table. The agenda of the meeting was focused on transportation corridors, a topic that was a priority for Azerbaijan, Turkey, and Russia. No agreement was reached on the topic critical for the Armenian side, the return of the POWs. Still, the meeting was an indication that a new phase of the peace process has started. The issues of concern to the actors that hold more power will be given primacy; the others will be discussed later. What is clear is that Armenia currently does not have the leverage that it had prior to the war. As a consequence, the peace that comes might not be favored by the Armenian government. It will not be a “just peace”. Unfortunately, peace is not always a just or fair settlement. 

Turning to Azerbaijan, Libaridian asked: will Azerbaijan continue with rhetoric that is essentially racist? Will that rhetoric continue to be one of domination rather than governance? This has been the problem all along. Azerbaijan has given no reason for Armenia to trust that if they are part of Azerbaijan, they will be governed rather than dominated. If the Azerbaijani government wants peace that is good for all people then it will have to change its rhetoric, it must change the way it talks and it behaves.

Ominously, Libaridian predicts that if there is a new war in future, it will be a war for the entirety of the South Caucasus, rather than for Nagorno-Karabakh, though Karabakh might serve as the excuse. 

To prevent a future war, Shiriyev calls for a national dialogue between the Armenians and the Azerbaijani. There have been meetings and dialogues among small groups of people, particularly on an expert or civil society level. Yet a national level effort has been lacking. The relationship today is on a much lower level than it was in the 1990s during the first war, when communication between journalists and the population at large was present. He also highlighted the need to address the human rights abuses and violation of international humanitarian law that took place during the two wars. He emphasizes that the creation of a commission on transport communications alone cannot bring peace. A broader commission that looks into other aspects of bringing sustainable peace is also necessary. The involvement of UN agencies with respective expertise, as outlined in the November 9 agreement, could be an important step in that direction.

Libaridian highlighted the importance, for any future Armenian government, of realistically acknowledging the importance of power relations in the region and to work on building its relations with its neighbors through negotiations.

Libaridian concludes, “The possibilities of development are there. But we must begin by deciding whether we want to be neighbors or conquerors… it will require quite a bit of wisdom and circumspection and ingenuity on the part of the Armenian side to work with Azerbaijan. Whatever process is [currently] taking place, it should continue at another level as well, directly between Armenia and Azerbaijan. Not to contradict the Russian process, but to complement it. That will be the recognition that this is our problem…if we expect to live together in the future, we must start talking together now.”

When Historical Fiction Is a Crime

The New Republic
Dec 20 2020
Why is one of Turkey’s foremost novelists in jail?
Kaya Genç/December 30, 2020
Ahmet Altan, one of Turkey’s most skillful historical novelists, lives in solitary confinement in a cell four meters long, at Silivri Prison, Europe’s largest penal facility. In I’ll Never See This World Again, his fifteenth book, and the first he wrote from prison, Altan recalled the passing comment of a judge who held the author’s fate in his hands: “If only you had stuck to writing novels and kept your nose out of political affairs.”
 
 
Love in the Days of Rebellion
by Ahmet Altan, translated by Yelda Türedi and Brendan Freely
Buy on Bookshop
Europa Editions, 496 pp., $19.00
 
Like a Sword Wound
by Ahmet Altan, translated by Yelda Türedi and Brendan Freely
Buy on Bookshop
Europa Editions, 352 pp., $17.00
Altan’s punishment for that sin—he was charged with “sending subliminal messages” to topple Turkey’s strongman Recep Tayyip Erdoğan—has been severe. “I will never see a sky unframed by the walls of a courtyard,” he realized upon receiving an aggravated life sentence in 2018. But politics has been an abiding theme of his work since the mid-1970s, when he cut his teeth as a young reporter. For much of his career, eroticism and the intrigues of Turkish politics had vitalized Altan’s writings and helped make him a household name. In 1982, aged 32, his debut novel launched a career marked by controversy and bestsellers: His second novel, Trace on the Water (1985), was found “obscene” by a court, which ordered police to burn it; Cheating, Altan’s erotic novella from 2002, sold over half a million copies, including one purchased by the cop who initially arrested him and chatted about its plot as the police van carried the giant of Turkish literature to Silivri Prison.
 
It was the Ottoman Quartet, an epic novel spanning the turbulent era between 1873, the year Sultan Abdülhamid II was enthroned, and 1915, when 1.5 million Ottoman Armenians died in an act of genocide, that earned Altan the distinction of a leading Turkish historical novelist, alongside younger authors Orhan Pamuk and Elif Shafak. The Quartet is Altan’s life’s work (he hopes to complete its last volume once he regains access to a library) and proof that even while he “stuck to writing novels,” in his judge’s words, Altan couldn’t “keep his nose out of political affairs.” The saga’s first two volumes, Like a Sword Wound (1998) and Love in the Days of Rebellion (2001), now published in fine English translations by Yelda Türedi and Brendan Freely, probe Turkish historiography’s nationalist dichotomies between the autocratic Abdülhamid and progressive patriots who dethroned the Ottoman sultan. Altan’s Quartet shows that continuities, rather than ruptures, have defined the history of Turkish autocracy over the past century: Germanophile Young Turks were as tyrannical as Abdülhamid. Altan reaches this conclusion after raising a baffling question: Was “the March 31 Incident” of 1909 (an Islamist uprising to defend Abdülhamid’s absolute rule, whose suppression gave anti-sultan generals dictatorial powers) a Young Turk ploy?
Bridging Turkey’s past and present, in which such sinister moves to gain power are customary, Altan uses a smart conceit: Osman, his middle-aged protagonist, lives in modern Turkey and receives visits from family members who lived a century ago. These “transparent bodies” speak to him “in weak, broken voices,” granting Osman access to archives of familial and national history as he sits among heaps of tin cans in a dilapidated mansion. Perhaps it is this direct link to the present that has angered the authorities so much, the way his work likens the country’s problems today with its foundational shortcomings. In Turkey, a country that has insistently imprisoned its famous novelists over the past century, the treatment of Altan’s life and work is a warning to others willing to submit Turkish identity to a similarly probing critique.
 
Altan is skillful in laying the groundwork for this volume’s milieu: the penultimate decade of the Ottoman Caliphate. Once containing Islam’s Holy Cities of Mecca and Medina, “the sick man of Europe” crumbles in the face of Western powers by the 1900s. The book’s characters orbit around Osman’s great-grandfather Yusuf, the sheikh of a Sufi monastery in Istanbul, the spiritual heart of a capital intent on severing ties with its Islamic past. Hikmet, a fragile bookworm who aligns with Young Turks (while reading their revolutionary oath, he puts a hand on the Qur’an and another on a pistol), marries Yusuf’s estranged wife, Mehpare, a free-spirited woman keen to realize her desires. “The only way to avoid punishment was to live in mansions with gardens large enough to conceal these sins,” she muses in a moment of self-reflection. The couple does live in a mansion with a large garden, owns a fancy six-seater landau with its team of two ponies and four Hungarian trove horses, leading a jealousy-inducing open marriage that almost destroys Hikmet (he misses the spot when he shoots himself in the heart). “True love is like a sword wound,” writes Altan, “and even if the wound heals, a deep scar remains.”
 
Hikmet’s father, Reşit Pasha, is cut from a different cloth. As Abdülhamid’s private physician, he is a conservative aristocrat who takes the voguish revolutionary spirit with a pinch of salt. But faced with Turkey’s rising middle classes (soldiers and medical professionals, mostly anti-sultan Young Turks), men like him stand little chance. Among those who root for rebels is Ragıp Bey, a young Ottoman lieutenant who takes refuge in Yusuf’s monastery for spiritual guidance. Moving to Berlin in search of adventure, Ragıp helps finance a plot against Abdülhamid’s tyranny, rubbing shoulders with Enver and Talat, Young Turk leaders who eventually deposed the sultan in 1908.
 
Class and gender bind those men. Raised in opulence, they operate in the most privileged sectors of Ottoman society, suffering from bouts of ennui while enjoying lavish lives endowed them by entitled parents. Frustrated about their futures and weary of their empire’s fate, they seek comfort in the arms of women. There is a sad tendency in Altan’s prose to gloss over the depths of female characters and present them as foils necessary for male self-realization. While recuperating from his wound at a French hospital, Hikmet flirts with a nun but fails to seduce her after gifting her an expensive copy of Baudelaire’s Les Fleurs du mal. Hikmet’s father welcomes him back home with a different gift: Hediye, a Circassian slave girl. Ottomans officially banned slave markets in 1847, but slavery continued clandestinely until 1908, and Altan skillfully shows its abhorrent consequences. Hikmet also courts Dilevser, a young bookworm with whom he can discuss Balzac and Tolstoy. “I was moved by the pain Anna Karenina suffered,” she tells Hikmet pointedly: “How selfishly men behave toward women.… How distant they are.” As Altan’s band of adventurers zigzag between moments of political upheaval and private intimacy, women balm their wounds, comfort their egos, and, at times, destroy their confidence.
 
Scenes of political turmoil are more layered. Love in the Days of Rebellion opens with a jubilant scene at Istanbul’s Sultanahmet Square. Hagia Sophia (a Byzantine church that Erdoğan transformed into a mosque last summer) is surrounded by thousands of fezzes that ripple “like a ruby-red sea.” The revolutionary crowd is a testament to the plurality of the multiethnic empire:
Thracian shepherds, seamen from the islands, Arabs from whom wafted the spicy smell of their mysterious peninsula, Jews who had migrated from sacred cities, Montenegrins with pistols in their cummerbunds, Bulgarians and Kurds, Kirgiz, Gypsies who sang and danced constantly, and Tatars with high cheekbones.
 
When the sultan races through them in his carriage, the crowd parts “like the Red Sea miraculously parted when Moses touched it with his staff.”
Altan uses this revolutionary moment to reveal his characters’ reactions to chaos and order. Reşit is sheepishly loyal to his sultan, and his proximity to power gives Altan artistic license to portray Abdülhamid’s life in fine, mostly factual detail. A photography aficionado, a reader of Arthur Conan Doyle novels (the sultan personally told Conan Doyle he disliked his historical romances), and paranoid to the extent that he considers showering in a cage, Abdülhamid is “afraid and interested in everyone.” He has a rural coffeehouse built nearby, where a waiter treats him like an ordinary customer “to bring a little bit of the outside world into his palace.”
 
By the finale of Altan’s novel, German-educated Young Turks had sent Abdülhamid off to exile in Salonica. There is joy in watching the sultan “who had not allowed his subjects to read what they wanted” now complain about not being allowed to read newspapers himself—“he’d realized how painful this was.” The dishonored sultan was forced to sign “a document handing over a million in gold he had in German banks over to the army, he’d lost his teeth, he’d been imprisoned in a mansion in exile and had lost his wealth after abdicating.”
 
When Love in the Days of Rebellion first came out in Turkish, Altan described its style as neoclassical: “It will replace the postmodernist inclination in modern Turkish fiction.” To some degree it did. In the next two decades, a flurry of popular historical novels considered different facets of early-twentieth-century Turkey through styles less challenging than Pamuk’s and Shafak’s postmodern fictions. Novels by Altan and Ayşe Kulin, another bestselling writer translated into English, seeped into popular culture by raising questions about Turkey’s national identity built on othering Kurds and Armenians, and helped change the dominant nationalist perspective of Turkish historical novels.
 
Altan’s view of Turkish history is bleak and skeptical of a progressive arc.
Altan’s view of Turkish history is bleak and skeptical of a progressive arc. “Whatever you do, whatever you call your form of government, you end up with a sultan at the top,” one of his characters muses. Another sees how “tyranny never ended in this land, that one tyranny had ended only for another to begin, that nothing other than tyranny could grow” in Turkey. His novel’s final sections detail how Young Turks (“an administration unaccustomed to governance”) ruled Turkey even more harshly, selling out Armenian, Jewish, and Muslim revolutionaries who initially supported them to build a democratic country. Killing reactionary-looking Muslims (they were in fact drunken, unruly soldiers in Islamic garments), Sheikh Yusuf sees, was but a planned tactic for grabbing power. “While we were celebrating getting rid of one tyrant, a hundred more tyrants took over,” says Ragıp. The Germanophile general who takes over Turkey’s reins governs “like a complete dictator with an authority that no sultan had possessed for some years.”
 
Soon a hush descends on Istanbul: “There were no arguments, no shouting, no laughter, no shopkeepers bantering from one side of the street to the other, no women talking from their windows … it was even forbidden to run in the streets, people avoided walking quickly lest they be thought to be running, everyone made a point of walking slowly.” The first order of generals is to burn the denunciations commissioned by the paranoid Abdülhamid, and millions of sheets of paper are piled into stacks and set on fire. These terrifying letters of denunciation
 
that had darkened the lives of thousands of people and that had nourished and increased the unjustified fears of an apprehensive sultan spread over the capital as ash and smoke like a pus that had accumulated in the collective bloodstream of an entire society, reminding everyone of their guilt and complicity.
 
In Altan’s novel, not many people object to this bonfire of archives. What Young Turks did was to “clear the past and save everyone from past fears by burning these documents that proved almost everyone had taken part in the tyranny of this period.” The Quartet’s final novel, if it is ever written, will tell of the Armenian Genocide, another act of historical erasure, planned and executed by the same leaders.
 
To modern Turkey, too, these tactics left a troublesome legacy. The putschist mindset, crystallized in Ragıp’s Young Turk brother Cevat’s words—“Who else but the military can protect this country … if the army removes itself from politics the motherland will fall into the hands of the reactionaries”—later solidified in a militarist tutelage system that ruled Turkey into the twenty-first century (as recently as in 2016, a band of Turkish generals staged a violent coup crushed by civilians). It paused briefly in 2002 with the rise to power of Erdoğan, who initially fashioned himself as a conservative democrat keen to retrieve the lost honor of Sultan Abdülhamid and rolled back century-old racist laws that suppressed the minorities whose properties modern Turkey confiscated and was built on. But a few years into power, Erdoğan revealed his authoritarian ambitions. In 2018, he built a presidential system that allowed him to annul election results, detain and replace elected mayors with loyal placeholders, and rule Turkey by decree. As Altan foretold, anyone “who enters politics has a bit of Sultan in them” in Turkey.
 
In a chilling moment in his prison memoir, Altan recalls a scene from the Quartet where Ragıp ponders the gap between the moment a person’s destiny changes and the moment the person realizes this, which, he writes, is “the most tragic and frightening aspect of life.” The loss of control over one’s life is terrifying, all the more so for an author imprisoned for his ideas. “The future became clear, but the person continued to wait for another future with other expectations and dreams without realizing that the future had already been determined.” As he waited to hear the outcome of his trial in 2018, hoping for freedom but already condemned to life imprisonment, Altan felt a shiver: “I wrote years ago about the turmoil I’m going through at this very moment. I live now what I write in my novel. I am a novelist living his novel. My life imitates my novel.”
 
Kaya Genç, a Turkish novelist, is the author of Under the Shadow.
 
Read More: Critical Mass, Books, Culture, Turkey, Turkish Literature, Ahmet Altan, Recep Tayyip Erdogan, Historical Fiction, Fiction, Ottoman Quartet
 

Deputy PM Mher Grigoryan to co-chair Armenian-Russian-Azerbaijani working group

Public Radio of Armenia
Jan 12 2021
Armenian Deputy Prime Minister Mher Grigoryan will represent Armenia in the tripartite working group to discuss the unblocking of all economic and transport links in the region, pursuant to the trilateral statement issued by Armenian Prime Minister Nikol Pashinyan, Russian President Vladimir Putin and Azerbaijani President Aliyev on Monday, January 11.
 
The Working Group will hold its first meeting by January 30, 2021, according to the results of which it will draw up a list of primary tasks arising from the implementation of the Paragraph 9 of the Statement adopted by the leaders of Armenia, Russia and Azerbaijan on November 9.
 
The priorities shall include rail and road communications, as well as the identification of other directions as agreed upon by the Republic of Azerbaijan, the Republic of Armenia and the Russian Federation, hereinafter referred to as the Parties.
 
The Working Group’s co-chairs will approve the composition of expert subgroups in these areas from among the officials of the competent authorities and organizations of the Parties. Within a month after the Working Group’s meeting, the expert subgroups will submit a list of projects, which should specify the necessary resources and activities for their implementation and approval at the highest level by the Parties.
 
By March 1, 2021, the Working Group shall submit for the Parties’ approval at the highest level a list and timetable of activities to restore or build new transport infrastructure necessary for initiating, implementing and providing for the safety of international traffic through the Republic of Azerbaijan and the Republic of Armenia, as well as ensuring the safety of transportations carried out by the Republic of Azerbaijan and the Republic of Armenia through the territories of the Republic of Azerbaijan and the Republic of Armenia.”

Anti-Armenian Hate Crimes Rise in California | Persecution

Jan 7 2021

01/07/2021 San Francisco (International Christian Concern) – According to a report from the San Francisco Examiner, hate crimes against the Armenian Christian community are on the rise. In the San Francisco Bay area alone, there were four anti-Armenian hate crimes during the second half of last year, including arson and vandalization. These crimes come alongside the armed conflict between Armenia and Azerbaijan sparked in September after a decades-long feud between the two countries.

An estimated 2,500 Armenian-Americans live in the San Francisco Bay Area as a result of the spread of the Armenian diaspora following the Armenian genocide in the early 20th century. Turkey, the perpetrator of the genocide and supporter of Azerbaijan in the recent conflict, has been perpetuating a propaganda campaign to deny the existence of this genocide. California was also home to pro-Armenian protests around the Turkish Consulate in Los Angeles last year in response to its aggressions against Armenia.

One of these anti-Armenian incidents happened on September 17 of last year, when an unknown suspect set fire to the St. Gregory the Illuminator Armenian Apostolic Church in a San Francisco neighborhood, causing extensive damage to the building. The incident prompted a response from the FBI San Francisco Field Office, putting out a reward for information on the arsonist.

FBI Special Agent Craig Fair, the agent assigned to the case, emphasized the significance of the attack in his statement. “This act of violence was not just an attack on a building, but on a congregation,” said Agent Fair. “This was an attack on a community.”

Other anti-Armenian incidents in the area included the spraying hateful graffiti on an Armenian school with the Azerbaijani colors, and a shooting at the school that occurred during the night, resulting in no injuries.

These manifestations of anti-Armenian sentiment around the world are part of an ongoing pattern as a result of the conflict in Nagorno-Karabakh (Armenian: Artsakh), the disputed territory between Armenia and Azerbaijan. Such hatred is already widespread within Turkey, and continues to grow as a result of anti-Armenian rhetoric used by the Turkish government.