Category: 2022

The Very Rev. Fr. Mesrop Parsamyan was elected as the 13th Primate of the Eastern Diocese on May 6, 2022, during the 120th Diocesan Assembly. (Photo: Albin Lohr-Jones)

Isn’t it amazing how the winds of advocacy can change in four years? In 2018, the Armenian church in the eastern region of the United States was in a state of excitement as two exemplary clergymen were elected to the position of Primate of the Eastern Diocese (Etchmiadzin) and Prelate of the Eastern Prelacy (Antelias). Archbishop Anoushavan Tanielian, a beloved clergyman, was recently re-elected at the Prelacy’s National Representative Assembly in Philadelphia. Bishop Daniel Findikyan, however, was defeated in a relatively close election by Rev. Fr. Mesrop Parsamyan, who heads the ministries at the Diocese and was formerly the dean of Gevorkian Seminary at Holy Etchmiadzin. In an almost unprecedented move, a sitting Primate—only one term into his tenure—lost an election. History tells us that this is a rare occurrence. For the previous 52 years before Bishop Daniel, there were only two Primates (Archbishop Khajag for 28 years and Patriarch Torkom Manoogian of blessed memory for 24 years prior to his election as Patriarch of Jerusalem). One has to be in the elder generation to remember an election that unseated an incumbent. The younger generation has been particularly drawn to Bishop Daniel with his spiritual leadership and long history of teaching at St. Nersess Seminary in addition to the popular summer studies programs. He is the first American-born bishop who served as primate and grew up in a family with devoted parents and whose mother was not Armenian. The feeling in 2018 was, given his credibility with the youth, his unique upbringing, his scholarly background and unique communication skills, that he would be very effective with a number of important demographics in the American diocese. He was elected knowing that he had never served in a parish, was a renowned teacher, was not focused on the politics of church life and did not seek the job. Four years later, with well over half of his time in office clouded by the COVID-19 pandemic, he was relieved of his role through the electoral process of our church. The diverse opinions created by this event merit an assessment of some of the possible causes and a discussion surrounding the challenges for the new Primate Hayr Mesrop Parsamyan.

His Grace Bishop Daniel Findikyan (Photo: Facebook)

The question remains: how does a sitting primate only one term into his tenure with the excitement generated upon his election and subsequent elevation lose an election in an unprecedented manner? Attempting to answer that question will require delving into some uncomfortable realities about how we support or, at times, undermine our elected leaders. Let’s begin with the nomination process. According to the bylaws, there must be three celibate clergy on the ballot approved by the Vehapar. According to public commentary and other sources, the Diocesan Council approached Hayr Mesrop to place his name on the ballot. Although soliciting candidates is appropriate, it is uncommon to seek the candidacy of a viable candidate while the sitting incumbent runs for re-election. The usual protocol is to have two names of qualified candidates who are perceived as not electable. The placing of Hayr Mesrop’s name was an indication of opposition to Bishop Daniel’s tenure. Actually, his return to the diocese from Etchmiadzin was perhaps an indicator. Apparently, there was enough opposition on the Diocesan Council to Bishop Daniel that a viable candidate was approached. The alternative (Hayr Mesrop) is from Armenia and has served this diocese on two occasions with a short stint in between as dean of the Gevorkian Theological Seminary. He returned to this diocese to assume the head of ministries position reporting to the primate. Our diocese has many wonderful priests from Holy Etchmiadzin. I know many of them personally, and they are fine clergymen. They have a strong relationship with Etchmiadzin, which is natural given the origin of their birth and education. It is apparent that a significant number of clergy from Armenia and their lay supporters opted to support Hayr Mesrop.

Our Vehapar in Holy Etchmiadzin places a strong value on loyalty and control. These priests have been an asset to the diocese, but they have a special relationship with the Holy See as it was the Vehapar who sent them to America. The connection does not have to be negative to be impactful. The common bond of Armenia is strong. The election results seem to be a “perfect storm” of those opposing Bishop Daniel based on his vision and management and the Etchmiadzin connection. In addition, it is unlikely that a sitting bishop can be defeated without some type of campaign to organize an opposition. There have been those who have resisted the Primate for several years. I have repeatedly heard absurd statements about how he is “too religious.” This, of course, is a not-so-veiled reference to the amount of heritage or ethnic programming he emphasized. The conflict has been there long before Bishop Daniel, but let me say that it is a sad state when we think our spiritual leader is too religious. I have come to know Bishop Daniel over the last several years, and I find his vision inspiring. The Armenian church has lost ground in the last decades not because of a lack of emphasis on our ethnic nature, but because we have drifted from the teachings of the church on faith. This is grossly misunderstood by those who oppose it in shallow overtones. It is my prayer that the new Primate continue to make Christ the center of the church according to the inspiring traditions of the Armenian church. If we do that effectively, there is no conflict between faith and ethnicity.

Despite the unfortunate circumstances, the delegates duly elected a new primate. Conflict is not unusual. It was only eight years ago that there was an ugly contested election between Archbishop Khajag, the Primate and Archbishop Vicken, the legate. Elections are full of campaigns and sometimes become far too personal. What remains for Hayr Mesrop is the daunting task of leading a fractured diocese. His immediate task is to rally the diocese behind a vision that will capture the spirit of the faithful. We need to move beyond the results of the election and focus on the mission of the church. This will require the faithful to place their trust in his hands. When new leaders are elected, particularly in a church, it is tragic that they are not given the opportunity to truly lead. Bishop Daniel was not fully afforded that opportunity. We all heard the gossiping opposition as early as four years ago. We must never make that mistake again. The open question for Hayr Mesrop is whether he will be his own man and lead the diocese with confidence. Given his youth, relationship with Etchmiadzin and the control values in our church hierarchy today, this is a legitimate question. It should be pointed out that no one is questioning the primacy of Holy Etchmiadzin over its diocese in the eastern United States. The matter is more related to empowering the primate to fully perform his duties according to the canons and traditions of our church. If Hayr Mesrop leads with a vision of growth and inclusion for this diocese, he will quickly earn the respect of those watching at this point. That clock starts now, and the faithful await his leadership. This is a critical time for the church in America. We are behind the curve and have no time for divisive squabbles. Those who advocated for Bishop Daniel should not act like many of those who opposed him four years ago. If we don’t rally around a unifying vision, the challenge will only become more daunting.

Armenians have a way of patronizing leaders while remaining unsupportive privately. We prefer to criticize in safe peer groups. When Bishop Daniel was elected, it was clear he had limited administrative experience with parishes but that he possessed an intellect capable of inspiring the faithful and had built a sustainable credible presence with the teenage and young adult community. I believe that when we elect a leader, they must provide the vision and motivation to build. As followers, it is our responsibility to support that vision and garner the leaders required to make progress. It is my view that Bishop Daniel, like many of our leaders here in America, was not given that window of support. The election is over, however, and the confirmation by the Vehapar has been announced. I pray for the success of Hayr Mesrop’s ministry as primate. I also pray for the continued ministry of Bishop Daniel. Many Armenians in the diocese are waiting for Hayr Mesrop’s vision for the diocese and his priorities. He is not well known by the rank and file. Many who did not vote for him and others who may have are anxious to know that he will be a strong leader of this diocese, who will of course respect the primacy of Holy Etchmiadzin but also advocate for the needs of a wounded Eastern Diocese. Our church needs leaders who will connect with the needs of the parishes, their faithful parishioners and the thousands who have left. There are times in the life of the Primate that he can become insulated from the “on the ground” reality. When a primate visits a parish, it may be the one week when the pews are full, the choir is plentiful and the youth are everywhere. This is not representative. How about a few unannounced visits to some parishes? Too many filters with reports, protocols, formal visits and meetings that do not represent the symptoms of our reality. The primate needs to paint a real picture of the diocese to the Catholicos and insist on flexibility to rebuild what we have lost. Anything less will be business as usual with the usual results. I imagine that Hayr Soorp is a bit overwhelmed by the entire few weeks. Once the fog clears and the real work begins, he must have the support to make adjustments in this diocese to build a sustainable model. That will be the primate’s job. Ours will be to support him and to remind him of the challenge.

Saroyan’s urn being handed to Writers Union president Vardges Petrosyan, as members Hrachya Hovhannisyan, Vahagn Davtyan, Mkrtich Sargsyan and others look on. (Photo provided by Weekly contributor Jane Partizpanyan)

In 1982, a year after William Saroyan’s death on May 18, a Moscow airport was filled with solemn chaos as members of the Writers Union of Armenia prepared to receive the precious ashes of the great Armenian American writer.

Led by playwrights Aramashot Papayan and Perch Zeytuntsyan, a select group of writers made the journey from Armenia to Russia to receive the urn of Saroyan and bring it back to the city of Yerevan for its interment. A year before, the other half of Saroyan’s ashes had already been buried in Fresno, California. 

“I felt this was a really heavy responsibility, to take this man’s ashes to Armenia,” said the editor-in-chief of the Armenian Observer, Osheen Keshishian, during a 1991 interview for Armenian International Magazine. “We were worried that the urn was going to be lost or stolen. We stayed overnight in Moscow, and I slept with the urn under my bed.”

During the period of the Soviet Union, foreign visitors had to fly into Moscow, which was the capital of the Soviet government, to be searched and granted access, as free travel in and out of the USSR was banned without express permission. For this reason, bringing Saroyan’s urn to its final resting place in Armenia was a difficult journey.

Keshishian was one of three men assisting in transporting Saroyan’s ashes from California to Armenia. They traveled from the United States to Canada, making their way then to Moscow before finally landing with the sealed metal urn in Yerevan.

According to a report by Tony Halpin for the 1991 My Name is Bill issue of Armenian International Magazine, more than 10,000 people had gathered at the airport in Yerevan in anticipation of their arrival. Due to heavy rain and hail, their flight was delayed six hours, dwindling the crowd down to 2,000 people.

Upon his arrival in Yerevan, Keshishian presented the urn to Vardges Petrosyan, the Writers Union president. Writers began to gather around, paying their respects and momentarily holding the urn before passing it on to the next person.

“They just wanted to handle it for a second,” said Keshishian. “Some people started to cry. Some people were in shock. It was an unbelievable scene.”

The urn was then transported by motorcade to the Writer’s Union building as hundreds of people outside of the airport watched.

On May 29, 1982, the burial of Saroyan’s ashes was held at Komitas Pantheon, which is the burial site for Armenia’s greatest intellectuals and artists. Approximately 50,000 people were in attendance. Even the former Soviet Armenian president, Karen Demerdjian, had flown in from Moscow just for the funeral and flew back to Russia immediately after. 

Hundreds of Armenians laid flowers and wreaths at Saroyan’s gravesite, flooding a portion of the pantheon.

“They loved him because he was down-to-earth,” said Keshishian.

Playwright Aramashot Papayan holding the urn of Saroyan in the airport of Yerevan, Armenia. (Photo provided by Weekly contributor Jane Partizpanyan)

My great-grandfather Aramashot Papayan was deeply affected by the loss of Saroyan; he considered Saroyan a dear friend and his brother from Bitlis. It was a deep honor for him to be the leading writer, along with Perch Zeytuntsyan, who flew to Moscow to retrieve Saroyan’s ashes. But he never bragged about being part of the select few; it was a very personal and quiet experience for him.

“He [Papayan] was sad and talked about him a lot,” said my uncle Vahagn Papayan when I asked him about his grandfather’s reaction to Saroyan’s death. “I didn’t know about his flight to Moscow. I was less than 10. I think that was the first time I learned about Saroyan, and everyone was telling all these stories.”

Within several reports about Saroyan’s will, Saroyan had expressly stated that his heart should be buried in Armenia, while the rest of his ashes were to be buried in Fresno, California. He also had stated that if Bitlis was ever liberated from occupation, his ashes from Fresno should be transferred to his parents’ house, which according to stories passed down in my family, he had been able to locate due to the in-depth stories of Bitlis that Papayan’s mother Grap would share with him.

Forty-one years later, Armenians all over the world still mourn the loss of the great William Saroyan. He was an imaginative and larger-than-life novelist, playwright, short story writer and artist. 

He truly carried Armenia in his heart wherever he went, seeking to bring the motherland recognition and respect on the global platform. As recompense for faithfully keeping his homeland in his heart, Armenia now carries the ashes of his heart within her arms, because whether metaphorically, or quite literally, his heart was, and still is, truly in the highlands.

Camp Haiastan in Franklin, Massachusetts is where my parents met in the late 1950s – at the St. Stephen’s Armenian Apostolic Church picnic. In those days and all throughout my childhood, the dance floor in front of the bandstand at the upper Camp was full beyond capacity with Genocide survivors, their children and grandchildren joyfully continuing the traditions of their respective villages. Displaced from these villages because of the Genocide, the survivors steadfastly maintained whatever traditions they could, from language to food to music and dance.

Reconstructing and preserving the memory of all aspects of Armenian life in the Ottoman Empire is the mission of Houshamadyan, an open digital archive founded in 2010 by historian Vahe Tachjian, PhD in Berlin, Germany. Houshamadyan carries out its work through research and scholarship with an educational foundation. The organization has a particular interest in “social history, the history of daily life, local microhistory, dialects, music, literature, material and culture…” Preserving cultural artifacts produced by Ottoman Armenians is of particular interest. These artifacts include old photographs, film footage and musical recordings, many of which come from personal or family collections. Intangible items are also archived, including games, customs, songs and dances.

Houshamadyan’s newest section about Armenian dance was initiated by experts who desired to preserve the old village and regional dances. While participating in online presentations about the new dance section, memories of our Genocide survivors gracefully, energetically and sometimes raucously twirling, stepping and bounding on the dance floor filled my heart. Houshamadyan US chairperson Ani Boghikian-Kasparian explained that the dance archive came under the purview of the US office because the dances that are being preserved have survived mostly in US Armenian communities, a unique situation for the archival work being conducted here. American Armenians were desperate to hold onto their culture following the Genocide, and the compatriotic unions would help to uphold the traditions. 

The dance experts learned directly from the descendants, participated in dance groups and attended dance academies. They held extensive meetings to prioritize the dances based on the danger of them being lost or forgotten. “Listening to the experts’ stories of the steps and how they learned the dances is intriguing and exciting,” said Boghikian-Kasparian. In a series of high-quality video productions, Houshamadyan explains and documents each dance step by step. “Houshamadyan not only preserves but revitalizes our traditions by passing them on to future generations,” explained Boghikian-Kasparian. All involved could not underscore enough the urgency to document the dances for preservation, for posterity and for future generations to enjoy and revive.

Tom Bozigian leads the line during production

Houshamadyan’s dance experts include Carolyn Rapkievian of Bar Harbor, ME, Susan and Gary Lind-Sinanian of Watertown, MA, Robert Haroutunian of Sunnyside, NY and Tom Bozigian of Los Angeles, CA. Rapkievian is retired from the Smithsonian and has been teaching Armenian dances for 40 years. A director of Armenian dance ensembles, she received a grant from the Maryland Arts Council in 2019 to document dances from historic Armenia. The Lind-Sinanians have researched and taught Armenian dance since the 1970s and currently work as curators at the Armenian Museum of America. Haroutunian directs an Armenian dance group devoted to preserving dances from historic Armenia with a repertoire that includes 140 dances. His own repertoire includes numerous songs that accompany some dances, known as yerk-bar. Bozigian is a world-renowned Armenian dance researcher and teacher who is skilled in over 400 dances. He began collecting dances in the 1940s and studied at the state choreographic school in Yerevan. Bozigian continues to lead workshops and classes with his wife Sheree King, who is also a professional dance instructor.

With great anticipation and following countless meetings, discussions and planning, the first group of dances was filmed in August 2021 in Watertown, Massachusetts, both at the Armenian Cultural Foundation and the Armenian Museum of America, thanks to the generosity of Drs. Ara Ghazarians and Nishan Goudsouzian and Jason Sohigian, former Weekly editor and current executive director of the Armenian Museum of America.

Filming at the Armenian Cultural Foundation

Each dance took several takes and many rehearsals prior to the filming. The experts would be dancing over Zoom in their own spaces, collaborating on what would be the final product. They also decided that the music had to be authentic, so some was original recorded music from past decades and some live music thanks to the talents of John Berberian (oud), Mal Barsamian (clarinet), Bruce Gigarjian (guitar) and Ron Tutunjian (dumbeg).

Directing from Berlin was artistic director of Houshamadyan Silvina Der-Meguerditchian, who is also responsible for the editing and creation of the final product. Der-Meguerditchian, who was unable to be in the US at the time, directed from the phone while Boghikian-Kasparian sat in the director’s chair. “What you see you can attribute to Silvina’s artistry,” enthused Boghikian-Kasparian. The recordings are “not only a showcasing of the dances, but also a tutorial,” she continued.

The group decided on the following dances for the first series:

Medax Tashginag, Kher Pan and Kosh Belazig from Garin
Dzaner Bar from Kharpert
Beejo and Govdoontsi Bar from Sepastia
Pampouri, Daldala, and Lepo Lele from Van
Kessabsi Barer from Kessab
Shavelee/Houshig Moushig from Erzerum
Chnkoush Halay from Chnkoush

One challenge was the village variations of dances, like the Tamzara. For this dance alone, there were versions from Garin, Alashgerd, Palu, Kharpert, Arapgir, Yerznga and Malatya. Music is a large part of Armenian dancing, and what Armenian American musicians would do early in the 20th century was take different melodies from different villages of the Tamzara and create medleys. 

Robert Haroutunian and Carolyn Rapkievian rehearsing at the Armenian Museum of America, Watertown, MA

Rapkievian explained these medleys were created so they wouldn’t get bored playing the same tunes and because people started dancing together from the various provinces. When the dances in the US became pan-Armenian dances, people learned from each other, and the bands played all the different melodies. “Untangling the melodies to find the original versions for the dances is part of the process,” she said, adding that there are subtle stylistic differences between the various regions. The rhythm and syncopation have been changed from the original regional rhythms, which need to be addressed to preserve the original. In addition, the percussion instruments are different between the Western Armenian and Eastern Armenian – dumbeg versus dhol, for example.

Rapkievian said that she grew up learning the dances from her grandparents and by going to picnics. Besides the desire to archive and document the dances, she stressed that “a second phase of the project is to revive them,” which would mean going out and teaching them in different communities.

The Lind-Sinanians told the Weekly that their active work in collecting information about the village dances spanned from 1975 to 1990. They would travel to various picnics and the homes of Genocide survivors to hear their stories and learn their traditional dances, research that “took on a life of its own,” since the couple’s original intent was to learn about these dances for their wedding. Gary Lind-Sinanian recalled interviewing one survivor who expressed gratitude and relief that their conversation focused on happier times, like weddings, rather than on “the harrowing details of the Genocide.” “Even his own children had no interest in his village dances, and we were the only ones interested in learning this legacy,” said Lind-Sinanian. “He was so happy to share them with us. It was humbling,” he concluded.

Some interesting tidbits were shared by the dance experts, including learning about the stomping part of the dances. The experts explained that the stomping in the village dances would be done to flush out the game birds for hunting purposes. Haroutunian, who studied with Arsen Anoushian, director of the Armenian Folk Dance Society formed in 1937 in New York, explained the significance of the handkerchief used in the dances. He said it would be dictated by the region and sometimes signify the line leader. “It was very rare to see a solo female dance in Western Armenia,” Haroutunian said, continuing, “Often men danced with men, and women danced with women.”

Bozigian shared that sometimes movements were influenced by the environment, such as the limping step due to uneven terrain. Up and down movements are reminders of the mountains and plains; dances are more difficult in the mountainous areas and the steps are heavier. “Why did some of the rhythms develop? Why are there breaks?” he asked. “Some differences are related to topography, and some of it is due to the lyrics.” For example, villagers who would walk the same path for hundreds of years, and there would be a rock that would cause a break. They might be singing something while walking the path, and it would have to change because of the bump. “This would have to be a constant occurrence for it to evolve,” explained Bozigian. “A style has to develop in a region maybe because of the lyrics or topography causing the break.” He then went on to elaborate on the difficulties of identifying the dances due to the more than 500 Armenian dialects. “We should have been there in the twenties and thirties recording the dances because they were still dancing the original versions here at that time,” he recalled wistfully.

Rehearsing to live music by Mel Barsamian (clarinet), John Berberbian (oud), Bruce Gigarjian (guitar) and Ron Tutunjian (dumbeg) at the Armenian Cultural Foundation

Boghigian-Kasparian offered her experiences as one whose family came to Detroit from Beirut. She said that they never experienced line dancing while she was in Lebanon, seeing it for the first time in the US and considering it American Armenian dancing. She did not realize until much later that the dances actually originated in the villages of Western Armenia. In actuality, the dances, steps and beats are quite intricate.

During one of the presentations, Boghigian-Kasparian showed filming of the Dzaner Bar as an example. In the recording, Bozigian is demonstrating the beat and steps – “boom, ta, ta, ta, da;  one ta ta ta doom da” – with great concentration and emphasis on certain beats. This brought tears to my eyes thinking of our survivor generation keeping these dances alive after all they suffered and coming to the US. 

“I go back to 1944 – that’s when I started,” explained Bozigian. “There’s nothing like experiencing those immigrants and their dances, their meetings, their outings, the picnics…amen desag hantes, and this is very important work that Houshamadyan is doing. Unfortunately, we don’t have anyone going back to 1915,” he said sadly. He elaborated that in the US, there are large concentrations of people from all the vilayets in Western Armenia, and in Armenia, Van and Moush Sassoun are heavily represented, but speak a different dialect. In certain cases, the rhythms are different. “This is a process, and it’s going to take a long time,” he said, concluding, “Thank God we have Houshamadyan.”

Houshamadyan will be filming in Detroit, MI this summer, where different dances will be recorded with a different band.

Houshamadyan is looking for old videos and movies from picnics or community or family events where the older generations are seen dancing. You can support the work of Houshamadyan, whether for the new dance initiative or any of its preservation work online.

My parents met at an Armenian church picnic, and my husband Ara and I met at an AYF dance in Watertown. Our relationship began while dancing the traditional line dances I learned at Camp Haiastan as a young grandchild of Armenian Genocide survivors. Today, those who desire our elimination from the lands we have inhabited for millennia continue with the erasure of our culture and monuments. For these reasons and more, I believe the documentation and revitalization of these dances is just as important as the preservation of our entire culture and the use of Western Armenian. One need only read this poem by Vahram Tatigian, translated by Diana Der-Hovanessian from Armenian Poetry of Our Time to understand:

“Arshile Gorky Dancing”

Now only the photo remains:
Arshile Gorky dancing a dance from Van
at a New York City reception
surrounded by prettily made up Anglo-
Saxon faces. Arshile Gorky dances
far from his homeland and not far
distant from the day he will kill himself.

Filled with homesickness, I’m going to
dance. Give me some room, please, American
friends. I’m going to dance the dance
of my ancestors, the dance of wild winds
right in the middle of your cocktail party,
tasty hors d’oeuvres and tasteful diamonds
on beautiful women. Not that I notice
these very much. My huge churning
passion keeps asking how I got here, here
in this huge steel and cement cocoon.

Houshamadyan is officially registered as a 501(c)(3) non-profit association in the United States as the Houshamadyan Educational Association. Check donations can be made payable to Houshamadyan Educational Association and mailed to 38228 Lane Drive, Farmington Hills, MI, 48018. The Houshamadyan Educational Association Board consists of Michelle Andonian, Ed Bedikian, Ed Hartounian, Ani Boghikian-Kasparian, Lara Nercessian and Alice Nigoghosian.

Hovig Esmerian

“Life is a struggle, that being by blood or by arms and no one comes out a winner. You win and you lose. That’s the law of life. Defeat is something that can always happen. The Roman Empire was defeated, the United States was defeated many times, but there were leaders who were able to correct their mistakes. It’s just a matter of how you can correct your mistakes after a defeat.”

This is how our conversation began with Hovig Esmerian, who returned from the village of Khramort where he was volunteering after the March 24 attacks by the Azerbaijani Armed Forces on a number of settlements in the zone controlled by the Russian peacekeeping forces. 

Esmerian is a Syrian-Armenian businessman who moved to Artsakh with his wife Isabel and three children 10 years ago. When asked about his decision to move to the homeland, Esmerian says that every Armenian living in the Diaspora believes that one day he will return to the homeland. It’s a belief that’s been ingrained since childhood.

When the war broke out in Syria, Esmerian says his family did not hesitate and immediately moved to Artsakh. Esmerian believes more Diasporans need to move to Artsakh. He says he appreciates the warmth and simplicity of Artsakh’s Armenians. The land has also been favorable for gardening and agriculture.

Esmerian thinks that it is not only by singing and raising a glass that we can keep the memory of our martyrs, but also by work, not only by sending money, but also by building a family and a house. “If the souls of our martyrs see it, I am sure they will be happier if one family came and lived here than 100 Armenian families who left the homeland and live in Russia or a European country, because these people shed their blood. They gave their lives for that family to live here,” he said. 

The family has established a 15-hectare garden in the village of Berkadzor in the region of Askeran, where dozens of species of fruit trees and plants grow. They had citrus orchards in Kovsakan, which is now occupied by Azerbaijan. Esmerian would rather not speak of those losses. “We have lost territories and brothers. We have lost most of the homeland,” says Esmerian. “If a person has lost a child or a relative, on the other hand, I cannot come and talk about my economic losses,” he added. 

Samra restaurant

A few years ago, the Esmerians opened a restaurant in Stepanakert named Samra. When the Artsakh War broke out, the restaurant had to shut down. The Esmerians would later open their home to hungry reporters and soldiers looking for a warm meal. The family believed it was important for soldiers in particular to feel that the house they left behind was waiting for them. The food symbolizing the hearth was, of course, hot food, so soup became symbolic for the soldiers, journalists, volunteers and visitors to Samra. Seeing this, compatriots from Armenia and the Diaspora helped by sending supplies that were almost impossible to find in the city that was under attack. Sometimes, they sent so much food that they distributed it to residents hiding in underground shelters. Unfortunately, Samra is closed now, as its main customers were Diaspora Armenians and guests from abroad, who have been unable to come to Artsakh after the war due to the tightened visa protocols.

Speaking about the relations between the homeland and the Diaspora, Esmerian thinks that the main problem is that we are not honest with each other and that those of us who live in the homeland consider the Diaspora as a treasury. That is why we are ready to deceive, to change the reality so that they send that money, and many of our compatriots living in the Diaspora, who are really patriots, do not want to come and live here. Instead, they are called to come and fight.

In his opinion, that approach should be changed. If there are almost twice as many Armenians living in the Diaspora as in the homeland, they should be represented here with their human presence and scientific resources. There should be at least a Ministry of Diaspora in Artsakh, and that individual should be from the Diaspora. Diasporans should understand that the way to develop the homeland is by living in it. If the Diaspora gets involved in the reconstruction of Artsakh, Artsakh will be restored much sooner with its human presence and its scientific potential. 

“We have more Armenian schools in Syria than in Stepanakert. We have more Armenian churches in Aleppo than in Artsakh,” said Esmerian. “We have more theaters in Aleppo than in Stepanakert. But what is the point of having eight theaters, 30 schools in a foreign country? Isn’t it better to have two and bring the rest of the money to build an ‘Aleppo–like’ district for the homeland, for example?”

Esmerian also addressed PM Nikol Pashinyan’s recent comments on “lowering the bar” on the status of Nagorno-Karabakh; he believes the Armenians of Artsakh are more determined to fight. Most of the Armenians of Artsakh do not believe in victory; rather, they stand strong and make it difficult for the enemy to advance. There cannot be a “dull and unhappy” part of the homeland. We are ready to fight for every piece of our land, and if the Armenians living in Armenia see that the people of Artsakh are not indifferent and that they are defending their land, they will join and that will inspire compatriots living in the Diaspora. “This is the reality, the guarantee of our struggle and our life is in this trinity, Armenia, the Diaspora and Artsakh,” says Esmerian.