Why is it that Turkey had those Brussels pouts?
By Philip Robins, Special to The Daily Star

The Daily Star, Lebanon
Dec 24 2004

When is a diplomatic triumph not a triumph? When the negotiations
involve Turkey and the European Union.

Commentators and participants are still scratching their heads trying
to understand why Turkey is not celebrating the outcome of the
European summit last Friday. At that meeting the EU took the
momentous decision to open accession negotiations with Turkey on
October 3, 2005. By doing so, it paved the way for a converging
relationship between the EU and Turkey, one that is most likely to
end in Turkey becoming a member of the union.

In one move, the European Council dispatched all the idle chatter in
the run-up to the Brussels summit. The meeting confirmed that there
was no place for further discussions about whether Turkey was
technically part of the geography of Europe, or whether its
religious, cultural or national character barred it from membership.
Thus, Brussels 2004 is set to take its place alongside the other
historic thresholds in bilateral relations – notably the 1963 Ankara
Agreement, the 1995 Customs Union decision, and Helsinki 1999, which
recognized Turkey as a candidate for EU membership.

The key issue in the Brussels meeting was always the date. A detailed
progress report on Turkey had been prepared by the European
Commission just two months before which had recommended the opening
of accession talks. Its only failing had been to leave blank the
space for the precise date. While Ankara had optimistically appealed
for an April 2005 start, it had let it be known that what it really
opposed was any attempt to delay a decision, the so-called “date for
a date.” With the more Turco-skeptic of Europeans talking about 2006,
any date in 2005 must be seen as a success. Moreover, October 2005
allows Turkey to commence negotiations under the collaborative
oversight of the U.K. presidency.

Not only did Turkey get the date it wanted, but also the cost of
progressing to the next stage of the game was, in the end, remarkably
modest. Only Cyprus featured in the 11th hour discussions on Turkey.
That means that a load of other potentially problematic issues, from
human rights to women’s rights, from Armenian massacres to the Kurds,
did not intrude. Instead, they were all subsumed under the European
Council’s important blandishment that “Turkey sufficiently fulfils
the Copenhagen political criteria” for membership. All that the EU
wanted on these issues was the modest requirement that the liberal
legislation recently adopted should actually be implemented.

Even on Cyprus, Turkey was aided by its friends in the EU. It was
recognized that if Turkey is to negotiate with the EU in October, it
must for practical purposes recognize its 25 constituent members.
However, Ankara remains wary of formally recognizing the Greek
government in Nicosia as representing the whole island while the
Turkish Cypriots of the North are disadvantaged by the absence of a
political settlement. The compromise was a diplomatic sleight of
hand, whereby a protocol extending Turkey’s Customs Union to include
the 10 new members of the EU, Cyprus among them, would be added to
the Ankara Agreement prior to Oct. 3. This amounted to political
recognition without legal recognition.

If these, then, are the realities of the Brussels summit concerning
EU-Turkey relations why all the long faces? Why did Turkish Prime
Minister Recep Tayyip Erdogan come so close to leaving Brussels in a
huff before agreeing to the deal? Why did the parliamentary
opposition in Ankara, on the right and the left, attack the outcome?
Why has Erdogan found himself on the defensive over the deal?

The key to answering these important but puzzling questions may be
found in the following two statements. One, in international
diplomacy style is often the equal of substance in its impact. Two,
it is virtually impossible to over-estimate the importance ascribed
to the Cyprus issue on the part of the Turkish establishment.
Together, they betray an absence of trust that is arguably the single
most serious deficiency in the EU-Turkish relationship, even at such
a time of progress.

For the Turks, with the thinnest of skins, the atmospherics of the
Brussels summit were always of disproportionate importance. This was
doubly unfortunate. First, because a belated public debate in key
member states about the proper long-term relationship between Turkey
and the EU had resulted in some blunt talking by domestic
politicians.

The Turks had, for example, allowed themselves to become rattled by
such meaningless gestures as Austrian and French leaders promising a
national referendum on Turkish membership, that is to say probably
sometime between 2015 and 2020.

Second, because at EU gatherings the continental European tradition
of last-minute, grubby, back room deal-making has become the modus
operandi of collective decision-making, and Nicosia now sits on the
inside. So, when the Cyprus issue re-emerged to eclipse the more
orthodox issues of the political criteria, Erdogan smelled a rat.
Only the hurried reassurances of Turkey’s friends kept the prime
minister in town and helped him to refocus on the big picture.

But the audience in Turkey had already picked up on the misgivings of
their delegation. The opportunism of ambition and vested interest
then kicked in. The leader of the opposition, Deniz Baykal, attacked
Erdogan for a sell-out on Cyprus, reflecting his closeness to the old
political establishment in Turkey. The rising “big man” on the
conservative right, Mehmet Agar, also voiced his criticism, as it
served his objective of rallying the secular right behind his
aspirant leadership. Mainstream Islamists, too, dissed the deal,
reflecting their ambivalence toward the growing relationship with the
EU. This may in part explain why Erdogan scampered off to Damascus
soon after his return from Brussels.

In some respects all of this counts for little. The EU-Turkish
agreement is a done deal. Erdogan knows that his interests are best
served by the opening of accession talks next October. The political
opposition in Turkey remains fractured and ineffectual. While he may
not achieve a bounce in the opinion polls on the back of the Brussels
accord, Erdogan remains the dominant force in Turkish politics. His
supporters make reassuring noises about Turkey’s eventually coming
round, even on the Cyprus issue, in time for the autumn’s opening
ceremonies.

Yet the absence of a joint celebration following the Dec. 17 decision
was not without cost. What is beyond denial is that the road to EU
membership for Turkey will be long and at times difficult. Turks and
Europeans will need the cherished memories of earlier triumphs to
keep themselves positive and working toward the shared goal of full
membership in the years to come.

Philip Robins is a lecturer in politics and international relations
at the University of Oxford and a Fellow of St Antony’s College. His
“Suits and Uniforms. Turkish Foreign Policy Since the Cold War”
(Hurst & University of Washington Press) was published last year. He
wrote this commentary for THE DAILY STAR

Open Democracy
Dec 24 2004

The three faces of Christmas
Maryam Maruf
23 – 12 – 2004

>>From Warrington to Abu Dhabi, shami kebabs and plastic trees, crap TV
or a day at the beach? Maryam Maruf’s quirky tale of a child’s
Christmas in the Persian Gulf.

There is a saying in Pakistan that the only place you will ever
really feel at home is in the city where you were born. When I was
nine years old I went back to Dubai, the city of my birth, for the
first time. I got off the plane with my father and fifteen-year-old
brother that December night, and walked down the metal staircase to
the shuttle bus. The surge of warm air made our jeans stick to our
legs. I remember the look on the visa man’s face when he saw our
British passports; the exhausted-looking Afghani taxi drivers waiting
patiently in the heat by their un-air conditioned cars; and a row of
palm trees, all artificially planted in a straight line, stretching
for miles along the Airport Road. But I remember, most of all,
feeling strangely happy and at peace, and at home.

We had just spent fourteen hours flying from London with airport-only
stops in Frankfurt and Muscat, and while my father got to sit in
First Class, my brother and I sat in Economy in the middle aisle next
to a sleeping man who smelt of horseradish sauce and burped in my ear
all the way to Muscat. We had come from Warrington, a town in
Cheshire, northwest England, where we were the only Pakistani family
in our neighbourhood, and where it had been raining because it was
still December. To go on this holiday, I had finished school, where I
was the only Pakistani child, two weeks before anyone else.

Now I spent long days on Jumairah beach with my cousins; took trips
to City 2000, in 1989 the biggest amusement park in the United Arab
Emirates; ate ice creams at 39 Flavors, before it became Baskin
Robbins; had endless rides on the dhow on the Dubai Creek; and
watched all the American sitcoms – Who’s the Boss, Different Strokes
and Family Ties – which they didn’t play on British television. At
that moment everything that felt home to me was everything that was
not English.

Five years later, a few days before my fourteenth birthday, I went
back to the UAE, but this time to Abu Dhabi, the capital city, and
the city where I wasn’t born. This time I was with my mother and we
were going to live indefinitely with my father, who I hadn’t seen
since he said goodbye to me and my brother at the boarding gate at
Dubai airport. This time we were coming from Manchester, not
Warrington, where we had left after my mother’s car had been set on
fire and PISS OFF PAKIS sprayed in white paint on our front porch.
This time, though I was happy to see my father again, I hadn’t wanted
to leave England.

I had woken up one morning and realised I just had my first dream in
English, and then I was thinking in English, and when I spoke, it was
no longer in my Pakistani-American sitcom accent: I spoke like the
other English kids I knew. Urdu gradually lost its importance, it
became the language my mother used to ask me to get some milk from
the corner shop, it became the language I had to talk with tiresome
Aunties, who weren’t really my Aunties, who would come round on Eid,
a previously important event which now became an occasion where my
mother would wake up early to make biryani and we would have to
entertain tiresome Aunties. And also by then, Michael J Fox had
become just some American actor. It wasn’t the place where I was
born, but I felt that England, at that moment, for those childish
reasons and more, had become my home.

In mid-December, three months after my mother and I arrived in Abu
Dhabi, and exactly five years after my brother, father and I left for
Dubai via Frankfurt and Muscat, I was stood in the school playground
with my four friends and realised with a shock that it was the day
before Christmas Eve.

The school that I went to, for one year only, was called Al-Worood,
and was on the outskirts of the city and near nothing but the desert.
I hadn’t been looking forward to starting at a school where my
uniform was an ankle-length grey smock; where the boys had classes on
the first floor, and the girls on the third, and the only time we
would get to see each other was in the car park or in assemblies
where we would be standing in straight lines facing each other; and
where the headmistress was a tyrannical old woman called Mrs Hayat,
who wore royal blue blazers and who, at the start of spring term,
would slap me across the face during assembly as she caught me
chewing gum.

The school playground, where we also had assemblies, was a long
courtyard with a border of rose bushes. I was sat on a bench in front
of a rose bush with my friends Zaynab, an Iraqi girl with green eyes
who had lived in New York for a year; Greta, a tall Armenian girl;
Lizanne, who was new like me, a Canadian girl with small piggy blue
eyes and long blonde plaited hair and would later be expelled for
smoking in the carpark with the boys; and Mona, who like me was a
Pakistani-Muslim, but unlike me, took her culture and religion
seriously.

“It’s the day before Christmas Eve,” I said and looked around at the
others. Zaynab and Mona shrugged their shoulders and continued
talking about the new Maths teacher, Mr Jalal. Greta, who was born in
Abu Dhabi, didn’t look that excited. She was a Christian, but she
said her family didn’t really exchange gifts and that they just went
to church for a bit, then turned towards Mona and Zaynab and voiced
her opinion on Mr Jalal. But Lizanne, who was also interested in
discussing Mr Jalal, looked at me like she knew what I meant.

“At least it’s on the weekend so we get the day off school”, I said,
now just talking to Lizanne.

“Yeah. It makes me miss home”, she said in a bored voice. “You don’t
really feel that it’s Christmas here. I want to see some snow. We
don’t even have a tree, and I don’t think Dad can get a turkey.
Spinneys is sold out.”

Spinneys was a supermarket in Khaldiya, a prosperous neighbourhood on
the other side of town from us, where Lizanne lived, along with most
of the North American, British, Australian and European people.
Spinneys was the only place in Abu Dhabi where you could get HP baked
beans, British newspapers, which included only The Times and the
Daily Mail, and turkeys.

“Hey, listen,” Lizanne said to me, still in a bored voice. “What are
you doing tomorrow? The British Club are having a special Christmas
party-dinner-thing. D’you wanna come?”

“I’ll have to ask my dad, he doesn’t really get on with the guy who
runs it, so I don’t know if he’d want me to go there.”

“Oooh”, said Lizanne, not sounding bored anymore, and her little blue
eyes shining. “Did they fight? What happened? Did your dad write
anything about it in his paper.”

“Dunno, it was a long time ago and not such a big deal really,” I was
purposely vague, not wanting to give Lizanne any more gossip about my
father, who was a Deputy Editor of a big English daily paper in the
UAE, and had an argument at the British Club because they refused him
entry to a show that he was supposed to be writing about because he
didn’t have the right ticket.

“Okay”, Lizanne sounded a bit disappointed. “Ask tonight and let me
know, I know the people sorting the party out so I can bring special
guests. Oh, bring your brother as well, he’s over for the holidays
right?”

In the end my brother and I went for the party but didn’t stay for
the dinner as there was no room at the table, and Lizanne had
forgotten to say that we were coming. Unsurprisingly I felt awkward
at the British Club. It was like being in Warrington again, minus the
spray paint and burnt cars. We were surrounded by a group of people
asserting their Britishness and their right to be in one place over
ours. Like Warrington, we knew we didn’t really belong there, which
made us miss our home even more.

The next day was Friday, the last day of the weekend, and Christmas
Day. My dad had received an invitation for a posh Christmas lunch at
the Sheraton. We laughed and remembered the first time we ever
celebrated Christmas in our council flat in Warrington. We had put up
a plastic tree my mother had bought in the market and my father
cooked a special curry of okra, shami kebabs and naan.

We went and had our lunch and then phoned my sister who was in
Manchester, where it was raining and there was crap TV on. After
that, we all went and sat on the beach.

From: Emil Lazarian | Ararat NewsPress

Turkish-Jewish ties focus of panel
by Sandra Adelstein

Washinngton Jewish Week
Dec 24 2004

WJW Intern — Turkey’s star is rising. The country’s inclusion into
the European Union is on the horizon, enabling it to transcend hundreds
of years of isolation as the only Muslim country in Europe.

Its relationship with Israel is stable, with military and economic
cooperation continuing, despite rising Turkish anti-Semitism and
criticism of Israeli government policies.

At a D.C. forum on Turkish-Jewish relations, held earlier this month
at the 25th annual convention of the Assembly of Turkish American
Associations, speakers offered insights into Turkey’s historical and
current relations with the Jewish people.

A Turkish-Jewish activist who lived in Israel for more than 15 years,
Rachel Sharon Krespin, now a Connecticut resident, called on the
Turkish government to condemn anti-Semitism.

She characterized the anti-Semitic activities of ultra-right parties
as an “anti-Jewish campaign,” and described an increasingly hostile
atmosphere fomented by right-wing journalist and political parties
that culminated in the bombing of two synagogues and the killing of
a Jewish dentist.

Jewish citizenship and loyalty are questioned, according to Krespin,
and Adolf Hitler is praised by these extremist voices. She drew
a direct parallel between anti-Jewish hysteria and anti-Israeli
propaganda, noting the words of Turkish journalist Ayse Onal, “It is
impossible to write one good thing about Israel without being attacked
as a lackey of the Jews.”

She added that Israeli Prime Minister Ariel Sharon was called a
butcher by protesters when he arrived in Turkey last year.

Anti-Semitism in Turkey is at it its highest level since World War II,
according to Daniel Mariaschin, B’nai B’rith International’s executive
vice president, who also spoke on the panel.

He singled out political cartoons, which he likened to cartoons in
the Nazi press.

A member of the Republican opposition to Turkey’s government took a
different perspective, downplaying the impact of anti-Semitism. The
bulk of Turkish people are not anti-Semitic and “disagreeable voices
don’t represent the views of Turkey,” said panelist Sukru Ekdag,
a former Turkish ambassador to the United States.

He focused his criticism on the Israeli government. “What is being
criticized,” he said, are Sharon’s policies. “Israel has to be more
constructive in resolving the Palestine issue,” he said.

Krespin, however, lashed out at criticism of Israeli actions. “Turkey
should not characterize the actions against Hamas as state terrorism,”
she said. Although she applauded Turkey’s potential participation
in Middle East talks, she warned against Hamas’ participation in the
peace process, which some in Turkey have supported.

“Hamas’ credo is the destruction of the State of Israel,” she said.
“Inclusion in the political process would not negate its long-term
goal of the destruction of the state of Israel.”

Despite the rising anti-Semitism and criticism of Israeli policies
in the West Bank and Gaza, Turkey and Israel continue their military
cooperation. An agreement signed by the two nations in 1996 has
burgeoned into economic and cultural agreements. American Jewish groups
also have lobbied Congress on behalf of Turkish military interests.

Krespin also pointed out that Turkey was one of the first nations to
establish relations with the state of Israel, soon after Israel’s
independence, and forecasted that both countries have an important
role to play in bringing freedom and democracy to the Middle East.

According to Krespin, Turkey has written human rights into its
constitution providing for the rights of minorities and prisoners in
preparation for its admission as a full member of the European Union.

She cautioned, though, that reforms should not “constitute an all-costs
national goal.”

Asked about the Turkish government’s stance on the Armenian genocide,
she said that a massacre of Armenians took place between 1915 and 1917,
but denied that it had been planned by the Turkish government.

Krespin, who is the executive director and founder of the American
Council on Jewish Turkish, insisted that the Armenians had massacred
as many Turks as Turks had massacred Armenians, a supposition that
many historians dispute.

It is estimated that between 600,000 and 1 million Armenians were
killed by Turks between 1915 and 1917, and that hundreds of thousands
more were forced into exile.

The panelists had no comment in response to a question about Seymour
Hersh’s New Yorker magazine article last June, which said that Israel
was providing military and intelligence support to the Kurds to offset
the influence of Iran, a serious point of contention between Israel
and Turkey.

Asked about the point after the conference, David Siegel, press attache
at the Israeli embassy, denied Israeli involvement with the Kurds.

From: Emil Lazarian | Ararat NewsPress

Turkish History Institution President: Armenians Committed Genocide

Zaman, Turkey
Dec 24 2004

The so-called Armenian Genocide allegation backed by France seems to
be the issue which will trouble Turkey most during the negotiation
process for full membership to the European Union (EU).

Turkey has stayed on the defensive against these allegations until
now, but Turkish History Foundation President Professor Yusuf
Halacoglu proposes to take action instead of remaining silent.
“Turkey should not avoid an open discussion on Armenian claims of
genocide.” said Halacoglu. He emphasized that many studies had been
conducted in the archives of several countries, and mostly in that of
the Ottoman Empire, but they have not turned up a single document or
record mentioning genocide. Halacoglu asked Turkish Prime Minister
Recep Tayyip Erdogan to found a commission which includes social
scientists in order to conduct research regarding the so-called
genocide claims. Halacoglu says that if Turkey undertakes this study,
the opposition will retreat. Halacoglu argues that contrary to the
claims of genocide, in fact Armenians killed 519,000 Ottomans and
said that names, birthplaces, and the fathers’ names of those
murdered by Armenians were kept on record in one of the archives.

Professor Halacoglu wants Turkey to take precautionary measures
without any anxiety. As this issue will be repeatedly raised in the
EU membership negotiations, Turkey should deal with it now. Halacoglu
stresses: “Our state should tell the EU that we should handle this
issue on a level on which our historians and social scientists can
discuss it. We should also establish a commission to report on what
we find.”

The professor signified that the claims that 1.2 million were killed
are inconsistent as according to official documents and records the
Armenian population in the Ottoman Empire was only 1.5 million.
Halacoglu notes that the Western sources also show the same number
and says, “The US archives give the numbers for Armenian migrants who
fled to other countries after the Lousanne Treaty in 1925 as
1,299,000 for those who migrated to countries other than Turkey,
Greece and Armenia. According to Turkish population censuses, there
were 281,000 Armenians living in Turkey. If we add these we already
have 1,681,000 Armenians. If we include 60,000 in Greek camps and
25,000 who emigrated to the US, we have a total of 1,760,000. Taking
into account population increase this corresponds to the Ottoman
Empire’s figures. So how, then, can it be claimed that 1,200,000
Armenians were killed.”

Professor Halacoglu calculates the loss of life by Armenian emigrants
in 1915 as 80,000, who died mostly of diseases and attacks from
bandit groups. Pointing out that diseases were spread all around the
world at that time, Halacoglu says: “The Ottoman army’s lost 400,000
through diseases in the World War I while the US lost 500,000, and
Italy 278,000 in 1918. Similarly many European countries lost
hundreds of thousands during the World War I.” He refers to records
in Ottoman archives including warnings to travel in groups for
security, and the spending of large amount of money for drugs and
food despite the war conditions as clear indicators of Ottoman good
will.

‘We will open 7 mass graves in 2005’

Professor Halacoglu announced that the Turkish History Institution
will open mass graves in spots they have identified based on archive
documents to prove that the Armenians committed massacres in
Anatolia. He noted that they have already begun excavation studies
and reminded that they most recently opened a mass grave of 336 dead
in the village Derecik near Kars in northeastern Anatolia. Saying
that they have identified about 100 mass graves in 20 different
places, Halacoglu says, “We have, for example, identified that
Armenians committed genocides in 21 villages in the Igdir region
alone. There are also regions of Cukurova, Erzurum, Ardahan, Kars,
Bitlis, and Mus. We will conduct excavation studies in 6 or 7 regions
because Armenians will make some important claims because of their
so-called 90th anniversary. That’s why we are trying to unearth what
really happened.”

12.23.2004
Erdal ªen
Ankara

–Boundary_(ID_Mu3J6FoUBN4dqPOUCYwvEw)–

KOCHARIAN CONCERNED OVER INCREASING NUMBER OF GAS INCIDENTS

ArmenPress
Dec 23 2004

YEREVAN, DECEMBER 23, ARMENPRESS: Concerned with the growing number
of fatal incidents caused by natural gas leaks president Robert
Kocharian called today a working meeting with senior officials of
bodies authorized to supervise the safety of gas use.

Kocharian’s press office said the president has instructed relevant
government agencies to combine efforts to prevent use of poorly
installed homemade gas heaters and illegal connection to municipal
gas pipes.

A man, his wife and 7-year-old child were asphyxiated by a natural gas
leak in a rural Armenian village, emergency officials said Wednesday –
the third such incident of gas poisoning in Armenia this month.

Officials were investigating the incident, which took place in
the southern village of Brnakot in Syunik, but said preliminary
information showed that a poorly installed homemade gas heater and
an illegal connection to municipal gas pipes were to blame.

Last week, a family of five died in the town of Etchmiadzin. Two days
later, a gas leak killed two people in the town of Gyumri.

i-newswire Press Release
Dec 24 2004

Dr. Kassabian announced the three finalists in the “Most Armenian
Nose Contest”, the contest was called “The Biggest Nose” or “The Most
Crooked Nose.

i-Newswire, 2004-12-24 – There is a new wrinkle in the world’s
growing fascination with youth and beauty. Garo Kassabian, MD
acclaimed board-certified plastic surgeon of Beverly Hills, headed up
the judging and surgical team in the Armenian version of Extreme
Makeover (WCVB, Ch. 5).

Just returning from Yerevan, Armenia’s capital city; Kassabian
announced the three finalists in the “Most Armenian Nose Contest”,
won free cosmetic surgery donated by him and his team as the top
prize. Staged as a publicity campaign and fundraiser for a new
surgery wing at Saint Nerses the Great Hospital, Kassabian sat on a
panel of renowned artists and show business personalities and judged
what was believed to be the most outstanding female and male nose in
the country. Dr. Kassabian also volunteered to perform substantial
reductions to the three unseemly proboscises.

“It’s human nature to want to improve on what Mother Nature has given
you,” states Kassabian. Garo subscribes to a credo that in cosmetic
surgery “less is more” with less invasive, mini procedures performed
at a younger age. The philosophy “looking good, feels goods” has been
the cornerstone of his successful practice established in 2000.
Kassabian’s comprehensive health and beauty center features water
fountains and a bamboo stand on a penthouse terrace, a dermatological
day spa and an on premise surgery theater in the heart of Beverly
Hill’s Golden Triangle.

The three contestants were chosen from photos that were submitted
through a massive outreach in newspapers, magazines, word-of-mouth
and onsite visitations to Saint Nerses Hospital. Within a week after
the competition was announced 200 contestants had nosed their way in
with thirty new applicants daily.

At its inception the contest was called “The Biggest Nose” or “The
Most Crooked Nose”. The organizers soon realized the pejorative tone
of those titles and decided to adopt the practically patriotic
slogan, “the Most Armenian Nose”. “About 80 percent of the
contestants were women,” states Narineh Aslanyan, the Hospital’s
spokesperson. “It was a new and fresh idea. There had never been a
contest like this in the region and, as far as we knew, there had
never been a similar contest anywhere in the world.” The question
most frequently asked by the applicants was “Whether their ‘most
Armenian nose’ would be made public.” Aslanyan replied, “While he
would take the winning contestant’s privacy into account, in order to
bolster contributions for the cause there were plans to show the
‘before’ and ‘after’ photos on television. Photos available on
Request.

One of the primary criteria in the selection process of the “Most
Armenian Nose” was choosing a nose that had little or no
compatibility with the face it graced,” commented Kassabian. In the
case of the three finalists, the size and stature of their noses had
become a hindrance, some even would call hideous. The winning male
contestant’s nose had in fact been broken in five places. The average
cost of rhinoplastey surgery in Yerevan is about $350-400 compared to
$8,000 in the United States, making such procedures a luxury beyond
average means.

It appears reasonable that the nose, a symbol of dignity and respect
in many societies throughout antiquity, should be among the first and
a recurring subject in the history of plastic and reconstructive
surgery. Kassabian commented that reshaping the “Most Armenian Nose”
involved complementing characteristics normally associated with
Armenian beauty – the broad forehead, big almond eyes, and expressive
eyebrows. Kassabian not only volunteered all of his travel expenses
but also performed the three surgeries as a contribution to bettering
the winning candidates’ lives and raising funds for the Hospital. In
fact the contest garnered sufficient capital to begin construction on
the wing with completion projected in 2005.

The top finalist was an aspiring performer who claimed the new look
gave him confidence to seek out a dream job as a TV spokesperson. He
edged out his competition by a nose. So to answer the question “would
their “new nose” be made public? In the case of the winner, it was a
resounding “Yes!” and by choice. Kassabian’s mastery of the technique
“Not only radically improved their overall appearance, but it helped
them breathe better. His benevolent cosmetic surgery was the key to
their better looks, self-confidence and health. Dr. Kassabian can be
found at

Submitted by: Cristiane Roget and Andrea

–Boundary_(ID_Vg2UxcQI72yvrQL+r7t/QQ)–

Israel Hasbara Committee
Dec 24 2004

JNF Gives Free Xmas Trees to Israel’s Christian Population
Christman Celebrations Begin

By Mayaan Jaffe

In Jerusalem Thursday morning (23 December 2004), the municipality
distributed free Xmas trees to members of the Christian community.
The trees were provided by the forestry department of the Jewish
National Fund. They were cut as part of seasonal thinning of new
growth forest.

Christmas Eve celebrations by Roman Catholic, Anglican and Protestant
communities will begin Friday. The Greek-Orthodox and Eastern
churches that still use the old Julian calendar will celebrate the
holiday on 7 January. The Armenian Orthodox community will observe
the holiday on 19 January.

The date of 25 December as Christmas is the result of attempts among
the earliest Christians to figure out the date of Jesus’ birth.

The Julian calendar was created in 45 B.C.E. under Julius Caesar. 25
December on the Julian calendar is 7 January on the Western calendar.

Armenians believe Jesus’ birthday should be celebrated on the same
day as his baptism, which is 6 January. By the Julian calendar this
date would fall on the Western calendar’s 19 January.

‘Vodka’s’ not quite pink lemonade
By Gary Arnold

Washington Times
Dec 24 2004

“Vodka Lemon,” opening exclusively at the Landmark E Street Cinema
tomorrow, looms as a marginal outreach project for novelty-seeking
art-house patrons. Absorbed in the texture of life in a snowbound,
impoverished and essentially disheartening village somewhere in
Kurdish Armenia, the movie is deficient in dramatic incident and
variety, stimulating social observation or lively character
interplay.
The work of a Kurdish Iraqi exile named Hineer Saleem, who left
his homeland 20 years ago and now resides in Paris, the movie
attempts to generate whimsical and even hopeful notes of humor
despite a setting that favors the static and morose. The title
alludes to a roadside tavern that seems to deal exclusively in
bottles of Vodka Lemon, presumably a fortifier along trackless
wastes. Actually, it’s more in the nature of an open-air counter,
similar to a roadside produce stand.

The boss of the watering hole arrives at one point to inform his
bundled-up waitress, a middle-aged widow named Nina (Lala
Sarkissian), that business is too slow to justify her employment.
This doesn’t come as a total surprise, bearing in mind the adage
“location, location, location.”
A lugubrious matchmaker, Mr. Saleem intends Nina as a potential
companion for a somewhat older widower named Hamo (Romen Avinian), a
white-haired former soldier who seems to be selling off all his
remaining possessions while awaiting financial assistance in vain
from a son who has migrated to France. Another son, evidently beyond
hope as a donor, is said to live in Samarkand. A sullen third
specimen called Dilovan (Ivan Franck) is in camera range; he still
lives in the village, nursing grievances about the fixer who has
promised to arrange a job somewhere in the vast reaches of the former
Soviet empire.
Hamo is wistful about the departure of the Russians, who at least
kept up the dole. We observe that he is a less-than-wily bargainer
when putting his own goods up for grabs: a wardrobe, a Soviet
television monitor and an old uniform go for about 20 percent of his
initial asking price. Hamo and Nina often share a bus ride during
daily trips to the cemetery, obviously a symbolic as well as a
picturesquely bleak landmark.
There are amusing deadpan details, particularly the local
fondness for posting chairs outside in order to share a nice cold
sit, smoke and, on rare occasions, chat. A drafty-looking community
center allows some shelter for socializing, but the liveliest
communal activity appears to be waiting for Hamo to get a call from
Paris. A small herd of sheep is linked metaphorically to the docile
populace, and an enigmatic horseman does four or five enigmatic
ride-throughs.
Ultimately, Mr. Saleem wraps up this tour of stagnating
small-town Armenia by playing the magic realism card. Nina, Hamo and
her piano share a wistful vigil on the side of the road before
hitting the road, in a physically impossible way. Still, the mobility
itself is encouraging. The resale value of their hometown looks nil.
A getaway could be just the ticket. Maybe Paris is in the market for
piano duets.
**
TITLE: “Vodka Lemon”
RATING: No MPAA Rating (adult subject matter, with fleeting
violence and sexual allusions)
CREDITS: Written and directed by Hiner Saleem. Cinematography by
Christophe Pollock. Production design by Albert Hamarash. Music by
Michel Korb. In Armenian, Kurdish, Russian and French with English
subtitles
RUNNING TIME: 88 minutes
WEB SITE:
MAXIMUM RATING: FOUR STARS

‘Vodka Lemon’: A Warm Glance at Life on the Rocks
By Ann Hornaday, Washington Post Staff Writer

Washington Post
Dec 24 2004

If “Vodka Lemon” conjures images of tonic cocktails served against a
sun-splashed backdrop, think again. This wry romantic comedy from
writer-director Hiner Saleem is set against a snowscape of such vast
desolation that it makes Monday’s cold snap seem like the doggiest
days of August.

Set in post-Soviet Armenia, “Vodka Lemon” dispenses with the usual
conventions of most holiday films at the multiplex. Indeed, it’s
amusing to imagine how this almost defiantly quirky film might be
pitched in the bowels of Culver City: “It’s a love story about people
who are poor, disenfranchised and almost completely without hope!
With a cast of complete unknowns! In Armenian!”

An old man has a strange way of going to a funeral in Hiner Saleem’s
quirky “Vodka Lemon.” (New Yorker Films)

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It also works, thanks in large part to those unknowns. Romen Avinian
plays a sixtyish widower named Hamo who lives in an impoverished
unnamed village with his alcoholic son and voluptuous granddaughter.
Playing a man whose haggard sense of defeat belies still robust
appetites, Avinian provides the ballast in an ensemble cast playing a
motley crew of characters, villagers whose chronic shifts between
hope and resignation have congealed into a permanent state of
suspended animation.

The good news is that they’re free of the Russian boot, which is
precisely the bad news: Without state subsidies, these scrappy
survivors must now carve a precarious existence out of anything at
hand — selling their own meager belongings on the gray market (“Does
it work or does it really work?” a buyer asks Hamo about a television
that really doesn’t), or providing the local aperitif of choice at
the open-air outpost from which the movie takes its title.

That rickety boite’s shy, shivering barkeep would be Nina (Lala
Sarkissian), a middle-aged beauty whom Hamo meets at the cemetery
where both come to visit their late spouses’ graves. Saleem takes his
time getting the two together; first he puts them in any number of
absurdist vignettes designed to convey both the bleakness of the
Armenians’ lot and the tough humor with which they confront it. These
scenes are sometimes orchestrated with a self-consciousness that’s a
bit too precious (Saleem, an exiled Iraqi Turk, started out as a
painter and poet, and it shows). But many of them have the
existential whimsy of Ionesco. (Indeed, one of the film’s visual
leitmotifs recalls Ionesco’s play “The Chairs”; this is a village
where nearly everyone carries his or her own, whether to plop down
for an impromptu drink or, more likely, wait for a bus that always
arrives, eventually.)

The sense of unrequited anticipation is finally resolved in an
improbably lush love scene set — where else? — on that very bus.
Saleem is too unsentimental to linger there for long; soon Hamo and
Nina are trudging through those same impenetrable snowdrifts. But
he’s just romantic enough to end “Vodka Lemon” on an impossibly
hopeful note — and on the cusp of what looks suspiciously like an
impending thaw.

Vodka Lemon (88 minutes, in Armenian, Russian and Kurdish with
English subtitles, at Landmark’s E Street Cinema) is not rated.

–Boundary_(ID_/N9DoYgDNlsGbHzTmDci+Q)–

Firebombing press freedom
By NIKOL PASHINYAN

Independent Bangladesh, Bangladesh
Dec 24 2004

Armenia

Late last month, while putting the finishing touches on the next
edition of our newspaper, Haykakan Zhamanak (The Armenian Times),
we heard an explosion outside our office. Staff members rushed to
find my car on fire. That explosion was not unanticipated – nor was
the announcement by Armenia’s police that the car had caught fire
due to technical problems. But the real problem is censorship, for
the explosion was but the latest offensive in Armenia’s hidden war
against the press. For us the battle for press freedom began in 1999,
soon after founding our newspaper, then named Oragir (Diary). It made
an instant impact, but not in the way we hoped. Throughout 1999 there
were more court cases against Oragir than against all other Armenian
media combined since independence in 1991.

In one case, the prosecutor’s office brought criminal charges against
me as editor-in-chief. I was accused of slandering an Armenian
political figure and of insulting a state official. As a result, the
court sentenced me to one year in prison. By a lucky twist, however,
on the day the court ruled, Lord Russell Johnston, Chairman of the
Parliamentary Assembly of the Council of Europe, was in Armenia. Lord
Johnston expressed his opinion about my case in his talks with the
authorities, which then decided not to send me to prison. I remained
free, only to be monitored by the police.

A second trial against our newspaper had worse consequences: a $25,000
fine (a huge sum here) based on allegations that we had damaged the
reputation of the Mika Armenia Company, controlled by the so-called
Karabakh clan that helps rule Armenia. The court’s verdict was based
on falsified documents. Following the verdict, bailiffs confiscated our
equipment, prohibited the publishing house from printing our newspaper,
and, most importantly, seized our business bank accounts, rendering
us unable to pay the fine. These events were initiated by a court
wrangle with Serzh Sargsyan, then the Minister of National Security
and Internal Affairs. We demanded an apology for his impugning our
paper’s reputation; he accused of us of libel. These manipulations
worked. Oragir was closed down, which forced us to appear under the
name Haykakan Zhamanak.

When my time under police supervision ended, the prosecutor’s office
quickly brought a new criminal case of slander against me. This time,
Armenia’s chief of civil aviation had sued me. Investigations lasted
several months, before pressure from international organisations and
public opinion forced the prosecutor to drop the charges. Later,
after his dismissal from his post, that same civil aviation chief
confessed that Armenian President Robert Kocharyan had advised
him to file his lawsuit. At a press conference just hours after my
car exploded, I announced my suspicion that the explosion had been
organised by Gagik Tsarukyan, an MP nicknamed “Dodi Gago” (“dod”
means stupid in Armenian) and one of the country’s richest men and a
close friend of the president’s family. Many Armenians believe that
Tsarukyan has carte blanche to do whatever he wants, when he wants.
Indeed, he even gets to write his own history. For although Gagik
Tsarukyan was convicted of a sexual crime in the Soviet era, two
years ago Armenia’s courts exonerated him by vacating the decision of
the Soviet court. Indeed, there is something of a taboo on writing
about Tsarukyan, and with good reason: not only is he rich, but
he also controls an army of obedient skinheads. Armenia frequently
sees skinheads attacking reporters covering opposition rallies and
once severely beating a leading opposition politician. Five years
ago, Tsarukyan himself led his thugs in a break-in at our office,
taking my staff hostage for several hours. Recently, after reading
some unflattering articles about him in our paper, Tsarukyan tried
to invite me to a meeting. I refused. Armenia’s paramount oligarch
fumed. He promised to punish me, and that he would act the next time
Haykakan Zhamanak criticised any well-known person. The car explosion
occurred the day after we rebuked Armenia’s Police Chief.

None of us are surprised that the police are unwilling to investigate
my car’s explosion. They began to do so only ten days later, when the
fire brigade stated that the fire was likely the result of an explosion
incited by “outside interference.” Such harassment is the everyday
stuff of journalism in what Vladimir Putin calls the “post-Soviet
space.” Armenia may have adopted in 1995 a new Constitution with fine
phrases about freedom of speech, but both the petty harassments and the
mortal threats of the Soviet era remain. Of course, we never believed
that press freedom would come easily. We understood from the start
that we would have to fight for it everyday. But we never imagined
the terrifying lengths to which the state – working hand-in-hand with
the new oligarchic rich – would go to defeat our cause.

We will not be defeated. An incinerated car is a small price to pay
in the battle for freedom.

The writer is Editor-in-chief of Haykakan Zhamanak, an independent
newspaper in Armenia.