‘THIS IS GOING TOO FAR, PARIS’
Hurriyet, Turkey
Oct 8 2006
Kenize Mourad, a French writer of Turkish origin who holds dual
French and Turkish citizenship and is a descendent of Sultan Murat
V, has written a manifesto calling on the French National Assembly
to re-address a bill that would make denying the so-called Armenian
Genocide a crime.
Mourad’s article, in which she says, “This initiative on the part of
the French Parliament is intellectual terrorism. They are the same
tactics employed by Stalin and Hitler”, continues as follows:
“It really is too much this time! Europe’s insolence and maliciousness
have reached their outer-most limits.
“But Turkey cannot buckle under European imposition any longer, even
if possible (although not certain) membership would be likely to be
beneficial to Turkey.
“An EU representative declared yesterday that Turkey was obliged to
acknowledge the Armenian Genocide as a precondition for membership
of the EU, and while they were at it, to acknowledge Greek Pontus
and Syrian genocides too.
“What many historians (not militant historians of course) tell us is
that, rather than simply acknowledging or not acknowledging Armenian
genocide, what we should do is read a lot, research, gather information
and discuss issues, showing tolerance towards others’ views.”

CHURCH REMAINS CENTRAL TO THEIR LIVES
By Susan Chaityn Lebovits
The Boston Globe
Oct 8 2006
When an earthquake killed 25,000 people and left 500,000 homeless in
Armenia in 1988, Thomas Babigian bought a ticket and flew to Spitak
to help rebuild.
“It was pretty gut-wrenching,” said Babigian, who was 28 at the time.
For five weeks, he worked 11-hour days erecting homes while living
in a tent. The trip was arranged through the Armenian Church Youth
Organization of America and the St. James Armenian Apostolic Church.
The Watertown church — now marking its 75th anniversary — has played
a pivotal role in Babigian’s life and that of the large Armenian
community in Boston’s western suburbs.
This year, Babigian, his twin brother, Peter, and younger brother,
Vasken, are spearheading the church’s annual bazaar, which takes
place next weekend.
Growing up in Waltham, the three brothers did not learn to speak
English until they were nearly 6 years old, although their parents,
Garabed and Joan, were Massachusetts natives.
“Our grandparents on both sides spoke only Armenian, so it was
important to all of us that we were able to communicate with them,”
said Peter, 46, who works in the machine manufacturing business and
lives in Waltham with his wife, Gloria, and their three children.
“I remember kids laughing at us and saying, `There are the Babigian
boys — they can’t speak English,’ ” said Vasken , a 38-year-old real
estate attorney in Watertown.
The brothers long ago shed their childhood embarrassment and are
grateful that they grew up steeped in their Armenian culture. Besides
their family, they say, they have St. James to thank.
With a community of 2,500 families, it is one of the largest Armenian
churches in the United States.
The brothers’ mother, who was raised in Watertown, has attended the
church for 70 years.
“At 17 and 18, when `normal kids’ wanted to go to the beach, I was
here trying to learn the service in Armenian,” said Peter. “It gave
me religious and traditional fulfillment.”
Soon after he was ordained a sub deacon and began singing in the choir,
which he still does. He is also the fifth-grade acolyte director.
Thomas, a mortgage broker who lives in Westford with his wife,
Linda, thinks nothing of making the half-hour commute to take their
6-year-old son to Sunday school at St. James. “I want to give him
the same experience, since it was so important to me,” he said.
The brothers share the same olive skin and big dark eyes. They also
share an energy level that might be mistaken for one espresso too
many, but it comes in handy as they oversee preparations for next
weekend’s bazaar.
It will feature traditional foods like bourma, a rolled phyllo dough
with nuts, and manti, Armenian ravioli filled with meat; a live
auction, where people can bid on a Caribbean cruise with Armenians
from around the nation; and, in honor of the anniversary, a raffle
prize of $7,500 .
The church is their second home, they say.
In advance of its 75th anniversary, the brothers and their families
donated a 7-foot gold cross that sits on top of the church. Created
at SRP Sign Corp. in Waltham, it is constructed of cast aluminum with
23 -karat gold leafing. It took six months to make and was consecrated
and erected in 2004.
Vasken and his wife, Christina, are expecting their first child. They
plan to teach the baby to speak Armenian and English.
The St. James Church Bazaar is 10 a.m.-10 p.m. Friday and Saturday.
For more on the church, visit sthagop.com.
From: Emil Lazarian | Ararat NewsPress

A TASTE OF THE WORLD IN THE SCV
By Rachel Stern
Signal Staff Writer
The Signal, CA
Oct 8 2006
[parts omitted]
Zohrab Getikian of Valencia, who opened the Hayk International Market
just four months ago, saw the opportunity that the SCV presented
for an ethnic-style deli and sandwich shop. Getikian, an Armenian,
opened his deli just four months ago because he knew from personal
experience that the area was ripe for what he had to offer.
“We don’t serve international foods per se,” Getikian said. “It’s a
deli. But we have specialties.”
These include mawst o chiar, a cool Persian yogurt and cucumber dip,
great for when it’s hot out; mawst oh mousir, another Persian yogurt
dip, this one with shallots; ehkra, a Russian eggplant dip; and the
by-now fairly common baba ghannoush, hummus and tabouli. Getikian also
takes special orders for pre-marinated kabob (Armenian/Persian grilled
chicken and beef, ground and filet), but you had better be hungry –
his minimum order is 10 pounds.
In addition to the sandwiches and the above-mentioned delicacies,
Getikian stocks a large number of packaged foods from Persia, Russia
and Eastern Europe.
“A lot of Armenians, Persians and others have moved here from the
valley and from L.A.,” said Getikian. “And they had to go all the
way back into the valley to get groceries. Me too.”
It was a underserved market, he said. Like the man in the movie said,
“If you build it, they will come.” And they did.
“I have so many people coming in,” said Getikian. “And not just
ethnics. Americans, too.”
Iranian born Houmayan Daryani started feeding the same need four
years ago, opening Mom and Pop’s Deli and International Market. He
now boasts a client base of happily sated Persian, Israeli, Arab, and
Turkish and Armenian expatriates. Houmayan’s specialty is produce – his
tiny store is stuffed to the gills with fruits that are hard to find
outside of the Middle East including fresh dates, Persian pistachios,
sour grapes, and a kind of sweet lemon he says is especially good if
you have a summer cold. And he’s very particular about quality.
“My produce is unlike anything you get in the stores here,” said
Houmayan.
He also carries spices, a variety of coffees, ethnic dairy products
and preserves and pastes made of unconventional ingredients like
walnuts and watermelons.
splaystory&story_id=33337&format=html

IRAQ’S BELEAGUERED BELIEVERS
By Charles Tannock
Fort Worth Star Telegram, TX
Oct 8 2006
The world is consumed by fears that Iraq is degenerating into a civil
war among Shiites, Sunnis and Kurds. But in this looming war of all
against all, it is Iraq’s small community of Assyrian Christians that
is at risk of annihilation.
Iraq’s Christian communities are among the world’s most ancient,
practicing their faith in Mesopotamia almost since the time of
Christ. The Assyrian Apostolic Church, for instance, traces its
foundation back to A.D. 34 and St. Peter. Likewise, the Assyrian Church
of the East dates to A.D. 33 and St. Thomas. The Aramaic that many
of Iraq’s Christians still speak is the language of those apostles —
and of Christ.
When tolerated by their Muslim rulers, Assyrian Christians contributed
much to the societies in which they lived. Their scholars helped usher
in the “Golden Age” of the Arab world by translating important works
into Arabic from Greek and Syriac.
But in recent times, toleration has scarcely existed. In the Armenian
Genocide of 1914-1918, 750,000 Assyrians — roughly two-thirds of
their number — were massacred by the Ottoman Turks with the help of
the Kurds.
Under the Iraqi Hashemite monarchy, the Assyrians faced persecution
for co-operating with the British during the First World War. Many
fled to the West, among them the church’s patriarch.
During Saddam Hussein’s wars with the Kurds, hundreds of Assyrian
villages were destroyed, their inhabitants rendered homeless, and
dozens of ancient churches were bombed. The teaching of the Syriac
language was prohibited, and Assyrians were forced to give their
children Arabic names in an effort to undermine their Christian
identity. Those who wished to hold government jobs had to declare
Arab ethnicity.
In 1987, the Iraqi census listed 1.4 million Christians. Today,
600,000 to 800,000 remain in the country, most on the Nineveh plain.
As many as 60,000, and perhaps even more, have fled since the beginning
of the insurgency that followed the United States-led invasion in
2003. Their exodus accelerated in August 2004, after the start of the
terrorist bombing campaign against Christian churches by Islamists who
accuse them of collaboration with the allies by virtue of their faith.
A recent U.N. report states that religious minorities in Iraq “have
become the regular victims of discrimination, harassment, and,
at times, persecution, with incidents ranging from intimidation to
murder,” and that “members of the Christian minority appear to be
particularly targeted.”
Indeed, there are widespread reports of Christians fleeing the
country as a result of threats to their women for not adhering to
strict Islamic dress codes. Christian women are said to have had
acid thrown in their faces. Some have been killed for wearing jeans
or not wearing the veil.
This type of violence is particularly acute near Mosul. High-ranking
clergy there claim that priests in Iraq can no longer wear clerical
robes in public for fear of being attacked by Islamists.
In January, coordinated car-bomb attacks were carried out on six
churches in Baghdad and Kirkuk. On another occasion, six churches were
bombed simultaneously in Baghdad and Mosul. During the past two years,
27 Assyrian churches have reportedly been attacked because they were
Christian places of worship.
These attacks go beyond targeting physical manifestations of the
faith. Christian-owned small businesses, particularly those selling
alcohol, have been attacked, and many shopkeepers murdered. The
director of the Iraqi Museum, Donny George, a respected Assyrian,
says that he was forced to flee Iraq to Syria in fear of his life and
that Islamic fundamentalists obstructed all of his work that was not
focused on Islamic artifacts.
Assyrian leaders also complain of deliberate discrimination in the
January 2005 elections. In some cases, they claim, ballot boxes did
not arrive in Assyrian towns and villages, voting officials failed to
show up, or ballot boxes were stolen. They also cite the intimidating
presence of Kurdish militia and secret police near polling stations.
Recently, however, there are signs that Iraqi Kurdish authorities
are being more protective of their Christian communities.
Sadly, the plight of Iraq’s Christians is not an isolated one in the
Middle East. In Iran, the population as a whole has nearly doubled
since the 1979 revolution. But under a hostile regime, the number of
Christians in the country has fallen from about 300,000 to 100,000.
In 1948, Christians accounted for about 20 percent of the
population of what was then Palestine. Since then, their numbers
have roughly halved. In Egypt, emigration among Coptic Christians
is disproportionately high. Many convert to Islam under pressure,
and during the past few years, violence perpetrated against the
Christian community has taken many lives.
The persecution of these ancient and unique Christian communities,
in Iraq and in the Middle East as a whole, is deeply disturbing.
In April, the European Parliament voted virtually unanimously for
the Assyrians to be allowed to establish (on the basis of Section 5
of the Iraqi Constitution) a federal region where they can be free
from outside interference to practice their own way of life.
It is high time now that the West paid more attention, and took
forceful action to secure the future of Iraq’s embattled Christians.
Charles Tannock is vice president of the Human Rights Subcommittee of
the European Parliament and UK Conservative foreign affairs spokesman.
Charles Tannock wrote this essay for Project Syndicate in Prague,
Czech Republic.

BESIEGED BY DEATH, YOUNG IRAQIS LOSE HOPE
By Sabrina Tavernise The New York Times
International Herald Tribune, France
Oct 8 2006
BAGHDAD In a dimly lighted living room in central Baghdad, Noor is a
lonely teenage prisoner. Many of his friends have left the country,
and some who have stayed have strange new habits: A Shiite acts
holier-than-thou; a Sunni joins an armed gang.
At 19, Noor is neither working nor in college. He is not even allowed
outdoors.
Three and a half years after the U.S.- led invasion, the relentless
violence that has disfigured much of Iraqi society is hitting
young Iraqis in new ways. Young people from five different Baghdad
neighborhoods say that their lives have shrunk to the size of their
bedrooms and that their dreams have been packed away and largely
forgotten. Life is lived in moments. It is no longer possible to
make plans.
“I can’t go outside; I can’t go to college,” said Noor, sitting in
the kitchen waiting for tea to boil. “If I’m killed, it doesn’t even
matter because I’m dead right now.”
The U.S. military is trying to address the problem. In August, it began
the most systematic series of sweeps of Baghdad since the war began,
trying to make the worst neighborhoods safe for a return to normal
life. It appears to be bearing some fruit, with deaths in the city
down about 17 percent in August from July, according to a UN report
based on morgue statistics.
But violence between the sects here continues at a frantic pace,
wiping out ever more of what middle ground remains. Young Iraqis
trying to resist its pull are frozen in an impossible present with
no good future in sight.
The speed of the descent has been breathtaking. A few months ago,
Noor was taking final exams, squabbling with his little brother and
hanging out at home with his friends. But violence touched the family’s
outer edge. His father’s business partner was killed on a desert road
far from Baghdad because he was a Shiite, and things began to unravel.
Fearing that the man may have divulged details about them, Noor’s
parents accelerated their plans for Noor and his younger brother to
leave Iraq. His brother was moved to the safety of northern Iraq,
but Noor was forced to return after the British authorities rejected
his student-visa application.
Since coming back, he spends most days in his living room on the
computer, listening to the sounds of life outside his gate. He wants
to enroll in college here and even had one of his friends sneak him
an application, but his parents will not let him go. Campuses are
volatile mixes of sects and ethnicities, and sectarian killings of
students are no longer rare.
Before the epidemic of neighborhood assassinations began last year,
it was a rare middle-class Iraqi who had a peer involved in sectarian
killing. But as the killing spread, larger portions of the population
have been radicalized.
For Noor, a secular Sunni who is solidly middle class, the sectarian
killing has broken squarely into his circle of friends. A friend
from Adhamiya, a Sunni Arab center in Baghdad, joined a neighborhood
militia after his father was shot to death in front of their home.
Noor heard through friends that he had set up a roadside bomb to kill
Iraqi troops.
“He hates the Shia because they killed his father,” said Noor, speaking
in fluent English. “He became a different person. He became a monster.”
It is that radicalization that most frightens Noor’s mother. Most of
the casualties and the perpetrators in the sectarian killing are young
men. With few jobs and no hope for justice through the government,
armed gangs and militias are extremely alluring to them.
“I’m afraid he’ll be drawn to certain currents,” she said. “There is
a lot of anger inside.”
A few of Noor’s Shiite friends feel a new passion for their identity,
and he now finds it difficult to relate to them.
“I can’t tell them my true feelings,” he said. “I started to expect
something bad from them.”
As little as a year ago, most Iraqis dismissed fears of sectarian
war. Iraqis of different sects had always mixed, they argued, and no
amount of bombing would change that. But as the texture of the violence
changed from spectacular car bombs set by Sunnis to quiet killings
in neighborhoods of both sects, few still cling to that belief.
Another young man, Safe, 21, stands guard with a machine gun three
nights a week to protect his block in the ravaged neighborhood of
Dora. As a Sunni, he fears Shiite death squads and policemen. Seven
of his friends have been detained and beaten. He has attended more
than a dozen funerals for murdered Sunnis in recent months.
“Sectarian stuff has come into our life from all doors,” Safe said,
speaking in quick bursts. “I am afraid of these checkpoints. They
tell you five minutes, and keep you for a month.”
The constant battle has left a bad taste in his mouth for Shiites
who strongly assert their identity.
Safe got into a fistfight with a Shiite student at the medical school
where he is a student. His campus is in heavily Shiite eastern
Baghdad. A professor referred to the healing powers of a Shiite
imam during a physiology lecture this year, to the fury of the Sunni
students. Even the typical Shiite jewelry, silver rings with smooth
round stones, he finds irritating.
“When you see them, you want to throw up,” Safe said, referring to
chauvinist Shiites.
Dora, once a mixed middle-class neighborhood, has been among the most
lethal for Shiites over the past two years. Shiite residents report
brutal killings for offenses as minor as pinning up posters of Shiite
saints in shops. Now few Shiites remain.
Safe acknowledged that Shiites were singled out, but said insurgents
only went after those working with Americans. Other Shiites received
threats for spying on mosques, he said.
Safe’s father died when he was young and his mother died of cancer
last year. His neighborhood watch group helps him to have a sense
of purpose, to feel connected, at a time when young Iraqis are more
isolated than they have ever been.
As Baghdad grows increasingly divided into a Shiite east and a Sunni
west along the Tigris River, neighborhood life is becoming equally
as homogeneous for young Shiites.
Every morning, Ali Wahid, 27, rides his motorbike past a dusty soccer
park in the capital’s largest Shiite district, Sadr City, to work in
southeastern Baghdad. He holds tightly to his job, a water project
that is part of the U.S. effort here, but would never agree to go
west of the Tigris, where Sunni neighborhoods are deadly for Shiites.
A friend, Hamza Daraji, who does odd jobs in Sadr City, said he had
not left the district in two years.
Wahid, sitting cross-legged on the floor of his modest two-story house,
says his life has improved since the invasion. His job has allowed
him to pay off debts, buy a house with his brothers and even afford
to marry. There are fewer Sunnis in his life now than there were
when Saddam Hussein ruled. In some ways, relations then were easier,
he said, because as the ruling class, the Sunnis were less likely to
lash out.
“Before I could joke with Sunnis about Saddam,” he said. “Now if I
talk against him, I’m afraid they might hurt me later in a secret way.”
The Sharqiya Secondary School in Baghdad began the day one recent
Thursday with a prayer. The new headmaster, a religious Shiite, took
the unusual step of telling the entire student body, several hundred
girls, that “the first way we hail the Iraqi flag is by giving prayers
to Muhammad and his family,” referring to the Prophet Muhammad and
his family members, whom Shiites consider to be holy.
Three Armenian Christians raised the flag.
“We feel desperate, desperate, desperate,” said Sena Hussein, an
assistant principal whose daughter is a high school senior. The
school, once known citywide for its basketball team, no longer has
after-school sports, as parents considered it too risky. Trophies
in a dusty glass cabinet stand a short way from the entrance to the
principal’s office. Even enrollment is down. The school used to get
150 new students a year. This year it has about 60.
Prospects for higher education for women coming of age in the capital
have also dimmed.
Sara, a graceful 10th grader with perfect English and straight A’s,
will not be allowed to go to college in Iraq by her parents, who fear
killings en route and on campus. The caution will cut out the mixing
of young Iraqi men and women, as college is the first chance they
get to be together. High schools in Iraq are single-sex institutions.
“The future is totally unclear for me now,” she said, standing in the
courtyard of the school as girls buzzed behind her, busily cleaning
classrooms. “I don’t know what would happen to me in college. Maybe
I would get killed.”
Hosham Hussein, Omar al-Neami and Khalid al-Ansary contributed
reporting.
BAGHDAD In a dimly lighted living room in central Baghdad, Noor is a
lonely teenage prisoner. Many of his friends have left the country,
and some who have stayed have strange new habits: A Shiite acts
holier-than-thou; a Sunni joins an armed gang.
At 19, Noor is neither working nor in college. He is not even allowed
outdoors.
Three and a half years after the U.S.- led invasion, the relentless
violence that has disfigured much of Iraqi society is hitting
young Iraqis in new ways. Young people from five different Baghdad
neighborhoods say that their lives have shrunk to the size of their
bedrooms and that their dreams have been packed away and largely
forgotten. Life is lived in moments. It is no longer possible to
make plans.
“I can’t go outside; I can’t go to college,” said Noor, sitting in
the kitchen waiting for tea to boil. “If I’m killed, it doesn’t even
matter because I’m dead right now.”
The U.S. military is trying to address the problem. In August, it began
the most systematic series of sweeps of Baghdad since the war began,
trying to make the worst neighborhoods safe for a return to normal
life. It appears to be bearing some fruit, with deaths in the city
down about 17 percent in August from July, according to a UN report
based on morgue statistics.
But violence between the sects here continues at a frantic pace,
wiping out ever more of what middle ground remains. Young Iraqis
trying to resist its pull are frozen in an impossible present with
no good future in sight.
The speed of the descent has been breathtaking. A few months ago,
Noor was taking final exams, squabbling with his little brother and
hanging out at home with his friends. But violence touched the family’s
outer edge. His father’s business partner was killed on a desert road
far from Baghdad because he was a Shiite, and things began to unravel.
Fearing that the man may have divulged details about them, Noor’s
parents accelerated their plans for Noor and his younger brother to
leave Iraq. His brother was moved to the safety of northern Iraq,
but Noor was forced to return after the British authorities rejected
his student-visa application.
Since coming back, he spends most days in his living room on the
computer, listening to the sounds of life outside his gate. He wants
to enroll in college here and even had one of his friends sneak him
an application, but his parents will not let him go. Campuses are
volatile mixes of sects and ethnicities, and sectarian killings of
students are no longer rare.
Before the epidemic of neighborhood assassinations began last year,
it was a rare middle-class Iraqi who had a peer involved in sectarian
killing. But as the killing spread, larger portions of the population
have been radicalized.
For Noor, a secular Sunni who is solidly middle class, the sectarian
killing has broken squarely into his circle of friends. A friend
from Adhamiya, a Sunni Arab center in Baghdad, joined a neighborhood
militia after his father was shot to death in front of their home.
Noor heard through friends that he had set up a roadside bomb to kill
Iraqi troops.
“He hates the Shia because they killed his father,” said Noor, speaking
in fluent English. “He became a different person. He became a monster.”
It is that radicalization that most frightens Noor’s mother. Most of
the casualties and the perpetrators in the sectarian killing are young
men. With few jobs and no hope for justice through the government,
armed gangs and militias are extremely alluring to them.
“I’m afraid he’ll be drawn to certain currents,” she said. “There is
a lot of anger inside.”
A few of Noor’s Shiite friends feel a new passion for their identity,
and he now finds it difficult to relate to them.
“I can’t tell them my true feelings,” he said. “I started to expect
something bad from them.”
As little as a year ago, most Iraqis dismissed fears of sectarian
war. Iraqis of different sects had always mixed, they argued, and no
amount of bombing would change that. But as the texture of the violence
changed from spectacular car bombs set by Sunnis to quiet killings
in neighborhoods of both sects, few still cling to that belief.
Another young man, Safe, 21, stands guard with a machine gun three
nights a week to protect his block in the ravaged neighborhood of
Dora. As a Sunni, he fears Shiite death squads and policemen. Seven
of his friends have been detained and beaten. He has attended more
than a dozen funerals for murdered Sunnis in recent months.
“Sectarian stuff has come into our life from all doors,” Safe said,
speaking in quick bursts. “I am afraid of these checkpoints. They
tell you five minutes, and keep you for a month.”
The constant battle has left a bad taste in his mouth for Shiites
who strongly assert their identity.
Safe got into a fistfight with a Shiite student at the medical school
where he is a student. His campus is in heavily Shiite eastern
Baghdad. A professor referred to the healing powers of a Shiite
imam during a physiology lecture this year, to the fury of the Sunni
students. Even the typical Shiite jewelry, silver rings with smooth
round stones, he finds irritating.
“When you see them, you want to throw up,” Safe said, referring to
chauvinist Shiites.
Dora, once a mixed middle-class neighborhood, has been among the most
lethal for Shiites over the past two years. Shiite residents report
brutal killings for offenses as minor as pinning up posters of Shiite
saints in shops. Now few Shiites remain.
Safe acknowledged that Shiites were singled out, but said insurgents
only went after those working with Americans. Other Shiites received
threats for spying on mosques, he said.
Safe’s father died when he was young and his mother died of cancer
last year. His neighborhood watch group helps him to have a sense
of purpose, to feel connected, at a time when young Iraqis are more
isolated than they have ever been.
As Baghdad grows increasingly divided into a Shiite east and a Sunni
west along the Tigris River, neighborhood life is becoming equally
as homogeneous for young Shiites.
Every morning, Ali Wahid, 27, rides his motorbike past a dusty soccer
park in the capital’s largest Shiite district, Sadr City, to work in
southeastern Baghdad. He holds tightly to his job, a water project
that is part of the U.S. effort here, but would never agree to go
west of the Tigris, where Sunni neighborhoods are deadly for Shiites.
A friend, Hamza Daraji, who does odd jobs in Sadr City, said he had
not left the district in two years.
Wahid, sitting cross-legged on the floor of his modest two-story house,
says his life has improved since the invasion. His job has allowed
him to pay off debts, buy a house with his brothers and even afford
to marry. There are fewer Sunnis in his life now than there were
when Saddam Hussein ruled. In some ways, relations then were easier,
he said, because as the ruling class, the Sunnis were less likely to
lash out.
“Before I could joke with Sunnis about Saddam,” he said. “Now if I
talk against him, I’m afraid they might hurt me later in a secret way.”
The Sharqiya Secondary School in Baghdad began the day one recent
Thursday with a prayer. The new headmaster, a religious Shiite, took
the unusual step of telling the entire student body, several hundred
girls, that “the first way we hail the Iraqi flag is by giving prayers
to Muhammad and his family,” referring to the Prophet Muhammad and
his family members, whom Shiites consider to be holy.
Three Armenian Christians raised the flag.
“We feel desperate, desperate, desperate,” said Sena Hussein, an
assistant principal whose daughter is a high school senior. The
school, once known citywide for its basketball team, no longer has
after-school sports, as parents considered it too risky. Trophies
in a dusty glass cabinet stand a short way from the entrance to the
principal’s office. Even enrollment is down. The school used to get
150 new students a year. This year it has about 60.
Prospects for higher education for women coming of age in the capital
have also dimmed.
Sara, a graceful 10th grader with perfect English and straight A’s,
will not be allowed to go to college in Iraq by her parents, who fear
killings en route and on campus. The caution will cut out the mixing
of young Iraqi men and women, as college is the first chance they
get to be together. High schools in Iraq are single-sex institutions.
“The future is totally unclear for me now,” she said, standing in the
courtyard of the school as girls buzzed behind her, busily cleaning
classrooms. “I don’t know what would happen to me in college. Maybe
I would get killed.”
Hosham Hussein, Omar al-Neami and Khalid al-Ansary contributed
reporting.

WORLDLY TRAVELLER’S TALES PLAYED OUT ON MANY A FIELD FAR FROM HOME
Sunday Herald, UK
Oct 8 2006
Stewart Fisher catches up with Ian Porterfield long enough to hear
the much on-the-move former Aberdeen boss sing the praises of his
Armenian national squad
IAN Porterfield must be approaching life membership of the managerial
mercenaries’ club.
After following in the football footsteps of Dr David Livingstone
to Zambia and Zimbabwe, diverse international detours to Trinidad &
Tobago and Oman, and significant if short-lived club stints at Saudi
Arabian giants Al-Ittihad and South Korean club side Busan Icons, the
60-year-old former Aberdeen and Chelsea manager alighted at another of
football’s less-heralded outposts, Armenia, this August. One suspects
that Anghel Iordanescu, Bora Milutinovic and even our very own Stuart
Baxter would be nodding with approval right now.
Porterfield’s winning goal for Sunderland against Leeds in 1973 FA
Cup final is usually referred to as his 15 minutes in the limelight,
but there have been no shortage of memorable moments in the 12 years
he has been away from these islands. His 20 months in Zimbabwe included
dealing with Robert Mugabe’s nephew Leo as FA president, not to mention
taking his team to play South Africa in a tribute match on they day
of Nelson Mandela’s inauguration. Yet, if anything, his time there
pales against the earlier spell at Zambia, which started with him
being forced to rebuild a national squad after the first team were
lost in a plane crash in 1993, and ended after his rebuilding was
endorsed by an appearance in the African Cup of Nations final and
him being given the freedom of the country.
“When I got my first opportunity to go to a foreign country it was
Zambia,” Porterfield told the Sunday Herald . “I was a bit apprehensive
because I had just left Chelsea but I decided to go and, amazingly,
since then things have gone really well. Things went well for that team
so I started to get a bit of recognition outside of my own country and
people started to give me work elsewhere. I work hard at my job. It
is my life and my hobby .”
Then came Trinidad and Tobago, for a World Cup qualifying near miss
which preceeded this summer’s success. His time there included
giving debuts to players such as Luton’s Carlos Edwards , not to
mention handing a young blood called Marvin Andrews the captaincy,
and gaining himself a Trinidadian wife. “It was really wonderful to
see them qualify for the World Cup,” Porterfield said, “even if it
was because they changed the ruling and got in on the play-off. I
had blooded many of the young boys who played in that tournament and
brought them in.”
The boundaries of modern day Armenia are thought to include the
site of the Garden of Eden, and the little state nestling between
Europe and Asia can lay at least partial claim to such luminaries
as David Dickinson and Garry Kasparov . The football team, however,
suffers from a shortage of big names, a problem when you are stuck in
a European Championship qualifying group along with Belgium, Serbia,
Portugal and Finland, and with a poverty-stricken domestic league.
They went into yesterday’s home tie with the Finns with a 1-0 defeat
from Belgium in their only game of the section to date.
“We lost 1-0 against Belgium but I worked with the players for 10
days and it was smashing to be able to do that,” he said. “Belgium
have got a lot of good players from good European teams, but we only
lost 1-0 to a long throw scored by the big boy from Bayern Munich
[Daniel van Buyten]. The performance was excellent.
“Armenian football is relatively new, and we have only eight teams
in the league, but three are trying to set up soccer academies. So I
think the future, although maybe not the immediate future, is bright
. It would be an unbelievable feat for us to finish in the top two,
but I would like us to be respectable.”
Porterfield’s time at Aberdeen, coming hot on the heels of Sir Alex
Ferguson’s departure in 1986, elicits mixed memories from almost all
those involved. His was a surprise appointment in the first place,
and a cup final defeat and successive qualifications for Europe were
not exactly what the fans had bargained for, not to mention that the
job found him in the midst of a turbulent period away from the pitch.
“I think if you look at the facts I think I lost nine games at Aberdeen
in all the time I was there,” Porterfield said. “I was following up
not only the best manager that Aberdeen ever had, but maybe the best
manager Manchester United ever had . They had such great success when
Sir Alex was there, but things were changing. I also went to Aberdeen
at what was a fairly difficult time in my life and sometimes things
happen for a reason.”
In my heart I am Scottish and I am proud of it, and I think I have
created goodwill and a good image for Scotland in coaching and
different things, but some things up there disappointed me. I feel
that some people let me down , the press cut me to ribbons and 90%
of it had no foundation .”
One man sticks in Porterfield’s memory, that of former Aberdeen
chairman Dick Donald. “I have been all over the world, and worked with
many different people – including Nelson Mandela on the day of his
inauguration, but one of the best men I ever met was Mr Dick Donald –
he epitomised what Aberdeen was all about.”
Porterfield, who has a home in Surrey and a flat in Yerevan, feels
he has around four or five years of travelling left. Unless, that is,
he gets a better offer.

FRENCH REACTION TO SO-CALLED ARMENIAN GENOCIDE BILL
Turkish Press
Oct 8 2006
BURSA – Turkish-French Trade Association Chairman Yves-Marie Laouenan
said on Thursday that they have built a website to initiate a signature
campaign against the bill on so-called Armenian genocide.
Answering the questions of the press after his meeting with
deputy-chairman of the Bursa Chamber of Commerce and Industry (BSTO)
Ali Hazir, Laouenan said they believed that Turkey could not promote
itself enough and they aimed at taking steps on the accurate promotion
of Turkey.
Stressing that as a chamber having approximately 450 members they
can`t understand the recent developments in France and it was
disturbing them.
“If the bill becomes a law on September 12th, we will come to the
conclusion that law replaced the historians. These developments
are taking place at the same time when Premier Recep Tayyip Erdogan
offers a hand to Armenia. The timing is really disturbing” underscored
Laouenan.
The website for the signature campaign will be activated tomorrow.

TUZMEN MEETS FRENCH MINISTER FOR FOREIGN TRADE LEGARDE
Turkish Press
Oct 8 2006
PARIS/ANKARA – “Approval of a bill (to be debated on Oct 12th) which
considers denial of so-called Armenian genocide claims a crime will
have a negative impact on Turkish-French relations,” Turkish State
Minister Kursad Tuzmen said on Thursday.
Tuzmen, currently in Paris to attend “Turkish Week” activities of
the Turkish Industrialists` and Businessmen`s Association (TUSIAD),
met French Minister of Foreign Trade Christine Lagarde.
Speaking to reporters after the meeting, Tuzmen said bilateral trade
volume between Turkey and France would exceed 10 billion USD this year.
Tuzmen said, “in case the bill which considers denial of so-called
Armenian genocide claims is approved, several problems will erupt. I
have explained sensitivity of the Turkish public on this issue.”
Tuzmen said such initiatives would have a negative impact on relations.

ARMENIA FEARS RUSSIA BLOCKADE OF GEORGIA
By Avet Demourian
Associated Press Writer
Associated Press
Oct 8 2006
Arkady Sarkisian has made his living by shipping containers full of
ripe peaches and fish to Russia.
But after Moscow severed all transportation links this past week with
Georgia, the main transit country for Armenian goods, Sarkisian has
had to pay more to transport his containers by a less direct route.
Armenia’s prime minister, whose country is a close ally of Russia,
insists that so far the Caucasus nation hasn’t suffered any financial
losses. Sarkisian, though, angrily disagrees.
“And what about me?” he said. “What about dozens like me?”
Russia and Georgia have been locked in a bitter dispute since the
arrests of four Russian officers by Georgia on Sept. 27 on charges of
spying. Despite their release, Moscow has imposed a range of sanctions
on its ex-Soviet republic neighbor to the south and tightened controls
on Georgians living in Russia.
Politicians and analysts warn that Russia’s transport and postal
blockade may end up economically isolating Armenia, Georgia’s
landlocked southern neighbor.
Lawmaker Grair Karapetian said Armenian entrepreneurs were suffering
“terrible losses” with the new restrictions. He estimated that
transporting some 20 tons, essentially bypassing Georgia, carried an
added expense of some $2,500.
Russia is the main trading partner for Armenia, where the average
monthly salary is equivalent to $90.
Most of Armenia’s goods travel to Russia via Georgia since neighboring
Turkey and Azerbaijan have closed their borders in protest of the
conflict over Nagorno-Karabakh, an ethnic Armenian territory inside
Azerbaijan, which the two countries dispute.
Some, like Sarkisian, have had to transport their goods to a Georgian
port, then ferry them to a Ukrainian port and only then take them to
Russia. Others have had to rely on cargo planes or could not afford
the new costly routes.
And the dispute could deal another blow to Armenia if Moscow cuts
its natural gas supplies to Georgia, effectively blocking supplies to
Armenia. Several Russian politicians already have raised that prospect.
Opposition leader Khachatur Kokobalian has warned that such measures
would be devastating for Armenia.
“I am sure that our republic is in for tough times, because the
blockade of Georgia can lead to the most serious consequences for us
in the transport, gas and energy sectors,” Kokobalian said.
Relations between Russia and Georgia have been strained since Georgian
President Mikhail Saakashvili came to power following the 2003 Rose
Revolution, vowing to take the country out of Russia’s orbit and join
NATO. Georgia also accuses Moscow of backing two breakaway Georgian
provinces – an allegation Russia denies.
Russian President Vladimir Putin has blamed the conflict on Georgia
and spurned Western calls to lift the sanctions, saying Georgian
conduct was “aimed at escalating tension.”
In addition to the sanctions, Russian authorities also have raided
a number of Georgian-owned firms and closed down several popular
restaurants in Moscow. Russian media reported that similar raids have
been launched in several Russian provinces.
Moscow police also have asked schools to provide lists of children with
Georgian last names in order to detect illegal migrants, education
officials said. On Friday, 132 Georgians were deported after being
detained as alleged illegal migrants.
Georgia’s Foreign Ministry on Saturday protested Russia’s crackdown,
denouncing the move as “repressive measures against Georgian citizens
and ethnic Georgians,” and calling on the international community to
comment on Russia’s actions.
Meanwhile, the head of Georgia’s airline, Airzena, said his company
and two other Georgian airlines operating flights to and from Russia
plan to contest Russia’s decision to suspend air links between the
two countries.
Police also detained more than a dozen activists rallying Saturday
in support of Georgia outside the country’s embassy.
—
Associated Press Writer Maria Danilova contributed to this report
from Moscow

Ïðaâî Âûaîða, Azerbaijan
Democratic Azerbaijan
Oct 6 2006
Subcommittee Meeting on Nagorni Garabagh Held
07.10.2006
In the course of PACE autumn session meeting of subcommittee on
Nagorni Garabagh was held. Head of Milli Mejlis delegation, committee
member, Samad Seidov, told AzerTaj correspondent about meeting:
– During the meeting Azerbaijani part raised the issues connected
with the most crucial problems troubling our country, – fires at
occupied territories, destinies of missing people. Armenian part also
expressed its position on certain problems. The most crucial problem
for us is to observe resolution adopted two years ago. It clearly
shows who is aggressor, what events took place in what form and who
commits ethnic cleaning. Observation of this resolution is very
important for us.
We do not regulate Nagorni Garabagh problem within the format of
Council of Europe. It is the task of OSCE Minsk Group co-chairs, and
they make proposals. However, we create necessary opinion complying
with interests of Azerbaijan.
We came to decision that during January session delegations of
Azerbaijan and Armenia should hold meeting jointly with Chairman of
the Committee, lord Russell Johnston, and exchange of views on
observation of the said resolution. It is very important for us.
Azerbaijan may present necessary documents. Council of Europe will
govern the course of observation of all regulations. We will maintain
Nagorni-Garabagh issue high on the agenda. During all sessions we
will draw attention of Council of Europe to this issue. In order to
control this issue, it is necessary systematically to organize these
hearings in the committee and bring position of Azerbaijan to the
notice.
As for visit of chairman of the committee, lord Russell Johnston, I
should tell that committee is completely ready to organize it. That
is, in connection with winter season visits to Azerbaijan, Armenia
and Nagorni Garabagh are postponed. We’ve come to the conclusion that
visit to region will be paid after winter session meeting.
–Boundary_(ID_ch8cjVNT1I4SwasCx8GINQ)–