Armenianow.com
Sept 22, 2004
Coming of Age: Comments on change, as independent Armenia enters the teenage
years

By Aris Ghazinyan
ArmeniaNow correspondent

Thirteen years ago this week (September 21), more than 95 percent of the
electorate voted in favor of Armenia becoming an independent republic.
It was an easy decision, made in difficult times. The soul of society still
mourned the death of 30,000 earthquake victims. The heart of society was at
war over Karabakh. And the psyche of society was challenged by the reality
of “freedom”, after 70 years of reliance on Soviet care-giving.
“The proclamation of the independence of Armenia took place in extremely
hard political and economic conditions,” reminds the head of the Museum of
History and Archeology in Avan Ara Demirkhanyan. “During the process of
acquiring sovereignty none of the former republics of USSR was facing such
hard and urgent problems, which were present in great numbers in Armenia.”

The will to build a nation faced odds created by energy crisis (a result of
losing USSR power supplies), by transport blockade (by Azerbaijan since 1989
and Turkey since 1991), and by the influx of 350,000 refugees fleeing
Azerbaijan.
”Of course, the simultaneous coincidence of such serious problems occurring
on such a small and weak country left an influential psychological impact on
the public consciousness of the population, who were not ready for such a
situation,” says Hayk Manaseryan, of the Academy of Sciences of Armenia.
“We should not forget that, for instance, unlike the Baltic States, Armenia
had never stood for secession from the USSR so zealously, but, first of all
it had always been aiming at the reunification with Karabakh even within the
framework of Soviet Union.”
Statehood, independence, reunification have been idealistic struggles for
nearly as long as there has been a modern Armenia.
“Over thousands of years the Armenian nation has developed a natural
characteristic of its development, which is statehood,” says Doctor of
Geographic Sciences Hovanes Sahadyan. “By force of historical circumstances
it lost its political independence at least 10 times but every time it was
strong enough to find strength and abilities to revive statehood. There are
few analogous examples in the history of the world. I think this example
demonstrates something.”
Karabakh war veteran Hamik Sahadyan believes it was that history of
political struggle that made the transition to independence less traumatic
for Armenia than for its neighbors. Some face common difficulties, but none
have faced the considerable obstacles unique to Armenia.
”In the beginning of 1990s each Caucasus republic of USSR was up against
precisely such strategic missions and it seemed that the positions of
Tbilisi and Baku looked more preferable,” Hamik Sahadyan says. “Georgia had
all-powerful water resources and Azerbaijan had fuel. Besides, both
republics took incomparably more advantageous geopolitical positions than
Armenia and had bigger populations. It is important to underline that at the
moment of the collapse of the USSR, the Kremlin was supporting Georgia and
Azerbaijan both in territorial disputes and in politico-military aspects.
However, the question of territorial integrity has never become a unifying
factor neither in Tbilisi nor in Baku.”
History proves that Armenia can survive struggle, war, hardship. But can it
grow to a future of peace and prosperity?
”During the process of historical development, Armenian socio-political
thought has collected sufficiently rich and useful material concerning
national behavior in war and extreme conditions,” says Vardan Mkhitaryan, a
cartographer. “However, it hasn’t developed an agenda for peacetime, when it
has already become an independent state.”
For just that reason, Mkhitaryan is among citizens who believe that
high-ranking officials and the oligarchs who underwrite them – whose only
understanding of governing is conditioned by a communist past – is no less a
threat to Armenia’s growth than the ill intentions of its neighbors. The
Parliament assassinations of 1999 were evidence of that condition, he says.
“Since 1995 the use of rough and rude force for the purpose of achieving
political goals became an integral attribute of the election campaigns,”
says Hayk Manaseryan. “Today a majority of deputies of the National Assembly
of RA are from criminal entities.
“All of this demonstrates a regression of statehood in Armenia and a sharp
weakening of positions of precisely political structures. For this reason,
since the mid-1990s the idea that the Armenian people cannot build a country
for themselves has been prevalent in Armenia. Nostalgia for the ‘Soviet Past’
has appeared in Armenian society and is why some have suggested the
necessity for an Armenian membership in the Russia-Byelorussia Union.”
The past 13 years (like preceding centuries for Armenia) have proven that
independence may be more a goal than a destination.
Nothing seems to be as hoped. But hope is enhanced by significant signs of
progress.
Against considerable odds not found in most Commonwealth of Independent
States, Armenia has survived, and might even thrive. The well being of the
average Armenian doesn’t differ greatly from the livelihood of those in
other post-Soviet countries, whose transition has been less challenged.
“The only factor which can level the wide difference between, for instance,
the biggest country of Europe, the Ukraine with population of 50 million
people, and small Armenia is its socialist inheritance,” says geographer
Hovanes Sahadyan.
And that inheritance, he reminds, was spread over 70 years. It will take
more than 13 years for that part of Armenia’s heritage to pass.
And while that recent past lingers, reflection on Armenia’s entry into the
teenage years of independence comes with a question:
If a referendum were held today, would 95 percent of the population vote in
favor of independence?

The Messenger
Sept 22, 2004

Protesters plan to block Tbilisi-Baku railway
Inhabitants of the Gardabani region are going to block the Tbilisi-Baku
railway on Wednesday to demand the creation of a state commission studying
the corruptibility of local officials. Representatives of the Labor Party
told Prime News that they are also going to go on hunger strike.
According to the party, on August 18 the protestors addressed President
Mikheil Saakashvili, Labor leader Shalva Natelashvili and Minister of
Justice Giorgi Papuashvili with the request that corrupt local officials be
punished. They complain that the president’s representative in Kvemo Kartli,
Soso Mazmishvili, the majority MP of Rustavi Gogi Salakia and also the
Chairmen of the Board of Gardabani region conducted illegal personnel
changes.
Pipes from the gas pipeline Russia-Armenia are stolen and sold as scrap
metal, they allege, and bread prices were deliberately raised. GEL 3,8
million, which was allocated for carrying out repair works of the
Rustavi-Vakhtangisi highway, disappeared, the inhabitants declare.

From: Emil Lazarian | Ararat NewsPress

Newstimes.ru
22 Sept 2004
Armenia
THE EURASIAN PROBLEM
By Vadim Dubnov

Armenia’s shortest route to Europe is through Turkey

“You were rooting for the French team, weren’t you?” the proprietor of the
bar in downtown Yerevan where I was watching the quarterfinals of the Euro
2004 Championship asked me. I noticed right away that he was ordering his
barmaids about in Russian. True, he spoke with an unfamiliar accent. I was
rooting for the French but I had no pity for them as they wandered around
the field like shadows of their great ancestors. The proprietor sighed. “No,
I don’t feel sorry for them at all. That’s why I rooted for the Greeks from
the very beginning though I don’t like them.” And he explained: they are my
neighbours. “And you are.” “I’m Bulgarian.” My brows must have shot up, and
he smiled: “Everybody is surprised. Somehow nobody is surprised that
Bulgarians live, for instance, in Spain or Denmark. So why not in Armenia?”
“And how do you like it here?” “It’s all right. Armenians are almost like
Bulgarians, but just a bit higher in the mountains.” He smiled again. “A lot
alike. Again, take the Turks whom many people believe we don’t like either.”

Northern Avenue

Armenians residing in Moscow do not believe that back in their homeland
apricots cost 1,500 drams, almost three dollars. Everybody knows that in
July not even a bloodsucker would charge more than 200 or 300 drams for
apricots, like for cherries. My friends do not believe me when I tell them
that, but I am not joking.

Yerevan is no longer a city of comfortably low prices. The central avenue is
no longer a natural extension of the friendly outskirts where everyone is
everyone’s neighbour. The downtown capital is flooded with neon that is
reflected from the tinted shop fronts of boutiques, beauty salons, and every
barber’s shop boasts a European style store window. Quite close a new avenue
is being laid through from the Opera House to the city’s main square. It is
called Northern Avenue, and the apartments in its elite buildings are being
advertised on radio channels in Moscow. They will be the homes of those who
in times past emigrated to Russia, the USA and Europe, made their fortune
there and now realized every emigre’s dream of having two homes. The new
avenue is in the construction phase as yet, but the new city developers have
already ousted the shanty town without which Yerevan is not Yerevan. But
that is the point: this is a different Yerevan, one without its shanty town
and with a downtown area which, it seems, all the eternal elderly people
have left and gone somewhere else and where to rent a flat costs almost as
much as in Europe. Armenians living in Moscow do not believe that you no
longer can rent a flat in Abovyan Street for less than 300 or 400 dollars.

Apricots and cherries cost 6 to 7 times more than they used to there: this
year rains alternated with hailstorms, but everybody realizes that these
fruits will never be cheaper even with the most ideal weather. Housewives
complain that meat, too, has gone up two times, though hailstorms do not
seem to have anything to do with it. The dollar is falling in value,
however, nobody on TV can explain intelligibly why. Wages in drams are
remaining on the same level but jobs are becoming harder and harder to land.

But the city seems to have more money, God alone knows where it has come
from. Cafes and restaurants are full, in the evenings, young couples with
middleclass faces stroll in the streets pushing baby carriages. They would
not believe that a short while ago the city did not have electricity. To
earn 100 dollars a month is considered good luck.

How presidents do not get deposed

“Anyway we will overthrow HIM.” The peaceful course of our conversation in
the small roadside cafeteria was interrupted by its owner. We were in Goris,
a tiny town hidden in a gorge in the backwoods of Armenia. We had been
discussing a different matter: why his potato cakes cost 50 drams and why
35,000 drams of I.O.U.s were recorded in his thick ledger. All the debtors
were neighbours and friends, it meant nobody was in a hurry to pay up and it
would be indecent to refuse more credit and that was the way all Armenia
lived. Yet, it was better than it used to be a few years back when there was
no money at all in Goris. Nowadays money has come from somewhere. Yet, the
ledgers with debtors’ names are piling up. “We will depose him anyway.” The
landlord breathed the words out as if wondering why I was not asking him
this question. “It did not work out in April, so it will take place in the
autumn.”

Actually, in April there were no plans to depose President Kocharyan. At
least the students had none when they came to the president’s palace in
Bagramyan Avenue as if to an ordinary party carrying guitars and tape
recorders and, of course, with the respective slogans. Nobody expected
clubs, water jets and electric shock devices. Plainclothes men, when it
became suddenly clear were not students, had been lurking in the mob. They
supervised the carnage professionally and mercilessly. Those students who
were fortunate enough took refuge with strangers in neighbouring courtyards.
The unlucky ones met sunset in police stations and hospitals.

“We will depose him anyhow.” “And who will take his place?” The owner of the
bar in Goris changed the subject with disarming resolve. “Had there been
someone to take his place we would have already deposed him, to be sure.”

The leader of the Armenian opposition is Stepan Demirchyan, the son of the
First Secretary of Armenia’s Central Committee of the Communist Party, who
had been shot to death in the parliament massacre in 1999. In Armenia the
right to ask the question “Why would you want a president like Stepan
Demirchyan?” belongs exclusively to visitors. Armenians themselves have not
asked it since Demirchyan’s first TV appearance. While there was, at least,
nostalgia for his father along with the memory of Soviet Armenia’s
breakthrough he had masterminded, his son, it is commonly recognized, has
inherited only his stature and voice. He has come out for raising the
working people’s wellbeing, creating a socio-market nation and restoring
government orders.

Armenian liberals back Demirchyan not fearing the ambiguousness of the
situation. “The main thing is to depose Robert,” is the liberals’
explanation. “Afterwards we’ll get rid of Stepan.” Meanwhile Vasgen
Manukyan, a political veteran who eight years ago ran against Ter-Petrosyan
as an equal and in last year’s election campaign was one of the most active
members of the opposition coalition headed by Demirchyan, was not overly
embarrassed by lending his name to such a non-convincing favourite. Today
Manukyan describes the nuances of the overall opposition with literary
accuracy: “Everybody wants to depose the president, so we march along with
Demirchyan because there is nobody else to go with. But because you are
marching along with Demirchyan, you realize that nothing will come out of
it. Forget him. Anyhow Demirchyan is no better than Kocharyan.”

But no other opposition is in sight in Armenia. The pyramid of power here is
such that even major neighbouring countries would envy it.

High technologies Armenian style

There is more to the power pyramid than just closing the opposition TV
channels. The authorities deal with this matter at the initial phase either
out of nervousness or after laying the groundwork for it when there are no
real dangers. The essence of building the pyramid and its total
inclusiveness is that the authorities fill all possible political niches.
This is all there is to it.

“What can the authorities be reproached with from the point of view of
liberal economic theory?” I would ask Armenian economists this and get this
reply: “Nothing. Armenia is in such a situation that even the most
inveterate Marxist would have to carry out reforms.” True, though, the
Armenians smiled when I mentioned the phenomenal 12 percent economic growth.
The trickiness of this figure would suit anyone’s taste. Take the
construction that is almost fully financed by a 200-million dollar grant
from the Lindsey Foundation of US billionaire Kirk Kirkoryan. The building
industry is a special form of economy where no statistician would be able to
assess the percentage of misappropriated funds. But some people may see
something exotic in the main trick with the economic growth: it is rooted
not in construction or even agriculture but jewellery.

Cutting diamonds is a traditional occupation of Armenians. Weighty positions
in this business belong to Armenians of the Diaspora, particularly in
Antwerp, Belgium, which is the principal diamond market in Europe. Being an
extremely capital-intensive industry, cutting diamonds bought on the Belgian
market is the principal component of both the economic growth and Armenia’s
exports and imports. This is the tricky thing: Armenian cutters work on
customer-furnished raw materials which are never counted in calculations of
the GDP or economic growth. The share of diamonds is almost 350 million
dollars out of the 800 million dollars in exports.

Meanwhile the real growth that is there and estimated by unbiased experts as
3 to 4 percent is stable. The Soviet industry has fully died out while quite
modern and export-oriented industries have grown in their place: light
industries, farm produce processing and Armenia’s special hope — high
technologies. Armenian programmers, I mean, those who have not left for
Russia or the West, have followed India’s method — they work at home
filling Western orders. Armenians’ indigenous self-name sounds like “hi”. So
the suggestion to translate “high-tech” as Armenian technologies gets a most
favourable response.

Asked what approaches to the economy should be changed if Kocharyan is not
re-elected, none of the aspirants gave a clearcut answer. But this did not
cool the general indignation.

Human, all too human

The old acquaintance of mine who was showing me the sights on Northern
Avenue was no supporter of the president. Not at all. Trying to be
objective, he remarks that the laying of this avenue brought Kocharyan no
particular dividends though they seemed to be there. “Can you imagine, what
there would have been if Stepan had started it?”

Armenian politics is a triumph of the human factor. The common practice
there is not to call politicians by their family names. They do not speak of
Kocharyan, Demirchyan, Sarkisyan. First names suffice: Robert, Stepan,
Vazgen, or Serge. Armenia is a land of neighbours. One does not choose one’s
neighbours, they are either liked or disliked, and a neighbour may help you
or may complain to police about your dog. In a word, the neighbour is an
artefact in the life of every Armenian and even the worst of neighbours,
like it or not, follows certain common rules. Consequently, in the
neighbourhood gossip even the worst neighbour is one of your own.

Levon (Ter-Petrosyan) was a neighbour. His former associate and now an
implacable foe Vazgen (Manukyan) was a neighbour. Robert Kocharyan whom
Ter-Petrosyan extracted from Karabakh to be a premier, remains an alien.
Last year he won the presidential race. Familiar as Armenians are with
falsifications, they did not forgive Robert one: he is alien.

Kocharyan did not resort to pretences or try to make some people change
their minds if they wanted to see him as an alien. He began relying on those
whom he was sure of, that is on the Karabakh natives. That affected people’s
attitude to the Karabakh problem. On Karabakh fell the shadow of the
attitude to Robert and to the Karabakhis who had followed him and were
getting the best contracts and ousting Armenian Armenians from the economic
heights.

The human factor is at work here, too. Armenians note in Robert, even with a
shade of some respect, the famous stubbornness of the Karabakhis. He does
not deviate and forgets nothing. He does not forget the hours he wasted in
ministers’ anterooms while he was still the president of Karabakh: not one
of those ministers managed to retain his position. A colleague compares
Kocharyan to a boxer who takes blows till his opponent gets sure of his
victory and relaxes: then Kocharyan strikes with all his might. The rallies
in April were dispersed with demonstrative cruelty as if to show to Yerevan
that ‘neighbours’ do not act in such a way. Yerevan was enraged and it is
said that had the people rallied again the following night and in a
different mood, the regime might have wavered and, possibly, his men would
have fled.

But the people did not rally. No one followed Demirchyan. The power pyramid
being what it is, there can be no other leaders.

A shadow for the president

The skilfully built power pyramid should not give cause for formal
suspicions, from the viewpoint either of democracy or of economic
experiments. The claims that international economic institutions have on
Armenia are purely technical in nature. Nothing is heard of the European
bodies’ complaints concerning the legitimacy of Robert Kocharyan’s authority
that were uttered after his election.

Nobody has made any complaints about the natural and logical consequences
that arise from building that kind of model. This is what makes the model so
convenient. There is a parliament and the required parliamentary procedures
have been followed. So it is not at all important that with this kind of
model the authorities are forced to make the parliament fully controllable.
In such cases the parliament is always comical in its own way, particularly
when the controlling block had to be entrusted not to one party but to three
as in Armenia. The fight to be the top dog among the monopolists of power
turns out fiercer than any ideological polemics with the opposition.
Particularly so in a land of neighbours. Because it is customary with
neighbours to use nickname along with names. It seems nobody remembers the
family name of apparently the best known deputy any longer but everybody
knows who owns the castle built midway between Yerevan and Abovyan: Dodi
Gago. The nickname means literally “dumb-faced Gago”. There is also a deputy
nicknamed German Rubo moonlighting as the chief of the Armenian Soccer
Federation: nobody remembers now why he is called “German”. He should not be
confused with Flower Rubo, now an ex-deputy who had launched his career in
the Soviet era, before he first did time. Yerevan natives recall that one
could always buy a bouquet from him when there was not a flower in the whole
city. When there is neighbourhood democracy everybody is somebody’s
neighbour though they may not have met personally. So Dodi Gago would help
keep somebody’s son from being drafted, and Flower Rubo would always lend
money. Under this regime with its power pyramid they have all put on decent
coats and know perfectly who is the guarantor of their wellbeing and peace
of mind.

Thus a system has developed, that is, ossified. All liberal economic
initiatives work for the monopoly of power that sponsors these initiatives
exactly within its limits. Investments fall under the umbrella of the
authorities – with the proper kickback. The larger share of the GDP gets
distributed within the businesses and jobs that were fortunate enough to
fall under that umbrella. So nobody in Goris expects miracles and
cancellation of the debt ledgers because the money flow dries up before it
reaches Goris.

This is what is habitually called stability in Armenia: the authorities are
busy with what they must be busy, that is, staying in power. As a rule, the
authorities face little danger. Though many in Yerevan thought, nursing some
hope, that after the April rallies Kocharyan had gone to Moscow to get
backing. But that time the effect produced was unexpected: for the first
time the shadow of dislike for Kocharyan darkened the image of his
counterpart a bit.

A decade of no wars

An acquaintance of mine, a businessman, went to the place where the borders
of Armenia, Georgia and Azerbaijan intersect. Armenian mobile phones don’t
work there and the Azerbaijan network does not link up with the Armenian
one. In short, he went to arrange the delivery of grapes by local farmers,
and invited me to come along. After discussing the purchase price the
conversation turned to politics. A hundred metres behind us an Azeri sniper
was watching our repast from the Azerbaijanian checkpoint. “You should not
expect Russians to come here and defend you,” my acquaintance was explaining
to the farmers. The farmers did not argue, but they were surprised that the
comrade from Moscow did not contest that statement. The farmers remember
something else. “If the men from Yerevan had not come here during the war
with Azerbaijan, we could have come to an arrangement with the Azeris on our
own, without a war.”

There was no and, apparently, had never been hatred for the Azeri neighbours
who lived just across the road, while Armenia was beyond a mountain range
with impassable roads. “It’s not their fault. They had to fight just like we
did.” Whose fault was it? Gorbachev’s surely.

Later, in Karabakh I encountered a man who had fled from Sumgait. He had
seen it all with his own eyes and had been miraculously saved. His family
and himself were taken out and hidden by an Azeri, his father’s friend. But
when that friend visited his home to take a TV set, his Azeri neighbours
nearly beat the friend to death: they mistook him for a robber. What did
that acquaintance of mine remember? He remembered that it is to Azeris that
a majority of people like himself owe their lives. “We from Sumgait, are
more tolerant towards Azeris than the Karabakh people. And the Karabakhis
are more tolerant than the Armenians from Armenia who see the Azeris as an
abstract enemy.”

Ten years have passed since that war. Nobody believes it will flare up
again. Not because they think that Russia will come to help. On the
contrary, they know already that Russia will not come. Or, if it does, it
will be only to buy up a powerplant or an aluminium smelter. “Why does
Russia buy electricity from us?” Asked by Yerevan intellectuals or farmers
living near Armenia’s borders, the question rings with equal suspicion. The
source of this suspicion is clear. The starting point is Russia’s passivity
in the conflict with Azerbaijan. But the conflict is of no interest even to
the Armenians themselves. That signifies that the reason for it is gradually
going away. Then why should they buy all the electric power, as well as the
Mars defence factory that nobody needs? Russia is so unwilling to let
Armenia go that is ready to waste money on the purchase of useless defence
rubbish just to keep Armenia dependent on it for energy.
Now that Russia’s help in the confrontation with Azerbaijan is no longer an
issue, the question arises: Why should Armenia want all this?
Especially now that alternatives are emerging.

The ball is thrown abroad

Mrs. K., a native of Yerevan, and her daughter Mrs. M. were detained when
they attempted to bring in undeclared gold articles worth several thousand
dollars. This quite common case was reported in the crime section of a
Yerevan newspaper, just a few lines lost in the kaleidoscope of other
happenings. What seemed unusual about the report was the fact that the
unlucky smugglers had attempted to bring in the gold from no other place
than Turkey. Actually, for some time now this, too, has not been much of a
surprise.

In the first two years of its independence Armenia had only two windows to
the outside world: the ports of Georgia and the border with Iran. Whether
one went East or West, one’s route was round about and costly, while the
average income was just enough for the blockade not to be absolute.

Armenia’s two other borders, both traditional and the longest, with
Azerbaijan and Turkey were sealed tightly. Curious things happen when a
border is closed for many years. The border trade between Armenia and
Azerbaijan is conservatively estimated at 40 million dollars.

During all these years Ankara has been staunchly backing Baku’s official
line to blockade Armenia. But things were much more sophisticated and
interesting in the day-to-day foreign policy practice in the early and
mid-1990s. Ter-Petrosyan, who was at that time president of Armenia and not
of Karabakh, realized that the choice was harsh and that in order to survive
Armenia would have to give up some of its Karabakh gains. Armenia did not
forgive him this stand then nor does Karabakh. People in Armenian diplomacy
at the time recall that Tansu Ciller, the then Turkish premier, was willing
to open the border for a tiny compromise, just a couple of villages on the
territories occupied by Karabakhis. Just a token.

Tokenism is much spoken of today again. For instance, Armenia’s refusal to
give up lobbying for the world community’s recognition of the 1915 genocide
of the Armenians. The case was reaching the usual dead-end when suddenly
discussions arose about opening the Turkey-Armenia border soon. Armenian
diplomats note with surprise that for all its Islamist reputation, Turkey’s
current government is much more constructive than its secular predecessors
were. Armenia’s Premier, Andranik Margaryan, has said that the border will
be opened by the start of the next year.

In June President Kocharyan went to Strasbourg where he spoke in Russian and
said to Ankara with unexpected bellicosity: the ball is on your court, and
don’t think that we won’t be able to develop without you.
His speech was liked in Armenia.

The dilettante’s last bluff

In principle, with the way Armenia has been developing these last few years,
it can, indeed, develop without Turkey. Particularly with Turkey
unofficially having an impressive place on the list of Armenia’s trade
partners. Three weekly charter flights from Yerevan to Istanbul, and much
commerce across the border crossing in Sarpi, Adzharia: some estimates have
the trade turnover with Turkey at close to 200 million dollars a year, while
the figure for Iran, the erstwhile saviour, dropped to 60 million.

But it is not just a matter of legalizing what has long been done. Opening
the border with Turkey means Yerevan’s consent to a principally new
political map in these parts. Because if the miracle is to happen it will be
due mostly to the pressure of the West. The Americans realize what Iran
means to Armenia, and they have never made it a secret that their strategy
in these parts would be better served if Armenia re-oriented itself to
Turkey. So Washington is working actively to achieve this in both hostile
capitals. On the other hand, the European Union, which Turkey is striving
hard to join, has also set a condition for Ankara: no problems with
neighbouring countries. For Turkey a concession on this point is not so much
a matter of principle as champions of historic myths think. A corridor
through Armenia would open to Turkey the Eastern markets which it is now
reaching in round about and sometimes shady ways.

For Armenia the political and economic effect of having the border opened
could be just stunning. Transportation accounts for around 15 percent of the
cost of Armenia’s exports. With the exports being none too competitive, the
cost of transport is almost disastrous. But one does not have to cross
mountain ranges to reach the Turkish border: there is a railway going to any
point — the Mediterranean ports or even straight to Europe’s transportation
network which is not that far away. How this would effect trade turnover and
the ties with Russia is evident: try as the latter may it cannot get the
railway via Georgia and Abkhazia opened.

Such a revolution in Armenia would be a major decision, so Kocharyan is
manoeuvring. One of the props of his authority and, generally, of Armenia’s
stability are the Dashnaks whose ideas boil down to starting a war against
Turkey. Naturally, with Russia as an century-old ally. Meanwhile, the
authorities and the farmers on the borders with Azerbaijan and Georgia have
long noticed that no salvation is yet coming from the East, and in answer to
the eternal Eurasian question they recall with much pleasure that Armenia
plays in Europe’s soccer championship and with much bitterness that the
Eurovision bosses do not allow Armenia take part in its competitions because
their concepts of geography are somewhat different.

Yerevan has watched with longing the developments in neighbouring countries,
both the “velvet revolutions” and the dynastic versions of operation
“Successor”. They realize that the laws of genetics being what they are,
Aliyev Jr. is politically closer to Saakashvili’s generation than to the
older Aliyev.

And that Armenia is the only country that runs the risk of being left
outside the emerging dynamics.

But this precisely is the drama of the choice. Hard as Armenia may be
learning English and, naturally, forgetting Russian, the technology of power
with its stability and its logical consequences has nothing to do with the
world that can be accessed through Turkey. The presidential palace in
Bagramyan Avenue will never forget that, compared to the very sceptical
European observers of the elections, the cheerful team of CIS observers
headed by Yuri Yarov were a relief: they liked everything that happened in
the elections.

It is clear that the Armenian authorities do not intend to replace this
model much as the country considers them ever more alien. When the
opposition rallies were at their height and polemics on opening the Turkish
borders at their peak, Kocharyan rushed to Moscow. For salvation, it is
believed. But why did the range of subjects for discussion include one
unexpected for a cry for help: wouldn’t Gazprom take part in the
construction of a gas pipeline from Iran to Armenia? Actually, Gazprom does
not seem to have any reason to share Armenia with Iran, especially as the
project might be extended to include a pipe reaching Europe across the Black
Sea bottom. It would be the end of the monopoly not only in Armenia but in
all of Europe and even in Asia because to link the Iranian gasline to
Turkmenia would be just a matter of technology.

As it is, Gazprom looks on the idea favourably. It is an experienced gambler
that does not trust a dilettante’s bluff. And, besides, with well-founded
scepticism: Yerevan and Teheran have held talks on such a gas pipeline for
almost ten years and gotten nowhere. So one would think that strategically
Moscow made no mistake — what better response could have been made to the
Americans and their Turkish project — or that Kocharyan’s going to Moscow
was also correct.

Provided, of course, that the idea was not addressed to another party, the
Americans, who are very sensitive to any initiative with the word “Iran” in
its heading. It’ll be too bad if they relax and grow cool about their
Turkish idea.

St Albans observer
22 Sept 2004
Christmas charity appeal for Eastern Europe
A CHARITY is appealing for people in the St Albans area to donate toys send
to disadvantaged children in Eastern Europe this Christmas.
Christian relief project Operation Christmas Child delivered more than one
million shoeboxes filled with toys to the children last year, over 4,000 of
which came from the St Albans and WelwynGarden City and Hatfield areas.
The shoeboxes are distributed to underprivileged children in countries
including Armenia, Poland, Romania and Kyrgysztan. This year the charity
will also deliver the toys to children in Mozambique.
Area organiser Sheila Heaton said: “Many people in this area did a fantastic
job contributing last year, and our aim is to do better if we possibly can.
The tremendous impact that a shoebox containing some simple gifts has upon a
child with nothing – and their family – cannot be over-emphasised.”
The charity running the project, Samaritan’s Purse, issues guidelines on
what gifts to send, and asks for a £2 donation with each box to assist with
the cost of transport and distribution. To find out how to participate in
Operation Christmas Child telephone 0870 0112002 or visit

Spaceflight Now, FL
Sept 22 2004

High energy mystery lurks at the galactic centre
PARTICLE PHYSICS AND ASTRONOMY RESEARCH COUNCIL

A mystery lurking at the centre of our own Milky Way galaxy – an
object radiating high-energy gamma rays – has been detected by a team
of UK astronomers working with international partners. Their
research, published today (September 22nd) in the Journal Astronomy
and Astrophysics, was carried out using the High Energy Stereoscopic
System (H.E.S.S.), an array of four telescopes, in Namibia,
South-West Africa.

The Galactic Centre harbours a number of potential gamma-ray sources,
including a supermassive black hole, remnants of supernova explosions
and possibly an accumulation of exotic ‘dark matter’ particles, each
of which should emit the radiation slightly differently. The
radiation observed by the H.E.S.S. team comes from a region very near
Sagittarius A*, the black hole at the centre of the galaxy. According
to most theories of dark matter, it is too energetic to have been
created by the annihilation of dark matter particles. The observed
energy spectrum best fits theories of the source being a giant
supernova explosion, which should produce a constant stream of
radiation.

Dr. Paula Chadwick of the University of Durham said, “We know that a
giant supernova exploded in this region 10,000 years ago. Such an
explosion could accelerate cosmic gamma rays to the high energies we
have seen – a billion times more energy than the radiation used for
X-rays in hospitals. But further observations will be needed to
determine the exact source.”

Professor Ian Halliday, Chief Executive of the Particle Physics and
Astronomy Research Council (PPARC) which funds UK involvement in
H.E.S.S. said; “Science continues to throw out the unexpected as we
push back the frontiers of knowledge.” Halliday added “The centre of
our Galaxy is a mysterious place, home to exotic phenomena such as a
black hole and dark matter. Finding out which of these sources
produced the gamma-rays will tell us a lot about the processes taking
place in the very heart of the Milky Way.”

However, the team’s theory doesn’t fit with earlier results obtained
by the Japanese /Australian CANGAROO instrument or the US Whipple
instrument. Both of these have detected high-energy gamma rays from
the Galactic Centre in the past (observations from 1995-2002), though
not with the same precision as H.E.S.S, and they were unable to
pinpoint the exact location as H.E.S.S. has now done, making it
harder to deduce the source. These previous results have different
characteristics to the H.E.S.S. observations. It is possible that the
gamma-ray source at the Galactic Centre varies over the timescale of
a year, suggesting that the source is in fact a variable object, such
as the central black hole.

The H.E.S.S. team hopes to unravel the mystery with further
observations of the Galactic Centre over the next year or two. The
full array of four telescopes will be inaugurated on September 29th
2004, see

The H.E.S.S. collaboration

The High Energy Stereoscopic System (H.E.S.S.) team consists of
scientists from Germany, France, the UK, the Czech Republic, Ireland,
Armenia, South Africa and Namibia.

The H.E.S.S. array

Over the last few years, the H.E.S.S. collaboration have been
building a system of four telescopes in the Khomas Highland region of
Namibia, to study very-high-energy gamma rays from cosmic particle
accelerators. The telescopes, known as Cherenkov telescopes, image
the light created when high-energy cosmic gamma rays are absorbed in
the atmosphere, and have opened a new energy domain for astronomy.
The H.E.S.S. telescopes each feature mirrors of area 107 square
metres, and are equipped with highly sensitive and very fast
960-pixel light detectors in the focal planes. Construction of the
telescope system started in 2001; the fourth telescope was
commissioned in December 2003. Observations were being made even
while the system was being built, first using a single telescope,
then with two and three telescopes. While only the complete
four-telescope system provides the full performance, the first
H.E.S.S. telescope alone was already superior to any of the
instruments operated previously in the southern hemisphere. Among the
first targets to be observed with a two-telescope instrument was the
Galactic Centre.

FEATURE

Los Angeles Times | Glendale News-Press | 2004 September 18

Time does not heal all wounds

This is the first of two parts

I did not live in Glendale in 1991, but I was a frequent visitor. I
was about to run out of gas when I pulled my dark blue Saab 900 into a
gas station on Colorado Street. It was 1:30 a.m. An ethnically
ambiguous station attendant approached me and offered his assistance:
“Hi, I am Mike. May I fill it up?”

“Yes, super unleaded please.”

It was a time when oil companies were offering incentives to improve
their sales. I was at a Mobil gas station; full serve was available at
the price of self. It was not long ago, but times were drastically
different. Full serve was an option, and Saab was still a Swedish
company.

As the attendant began to pump my distinctly Swedish tank, I decided
to check the oil level. I was apprehensive; my beloved car had not
gotten a lube job for more than 12,000 miles. I opened the unusual
hood it opened from the back end and grabbed a hold of the oil
stick. From the corner of my eye, I noticed a noisy little motorcycle
speeding on Colorado; the two men were barely holding onto the tiny
seat. Suddenly, the exhaust backfired and filled the night air with
what sounded like a small explosion. The men burst into
laughter. “Ay!!! Oww!!!”

In contrast to the nightriders’ lighthearted reaction, the gas station
attendant dropped the gas pump, and hit the concrete floor on his
back. I left the oil gauge halfway in the engine, and stepped aside to
see why Mike was on the floor.

The unleaded gas was darkening the light gray concrete while it went
wild on the ground. The vaporous liquid was gradually approaching
Mike’s light blue corporate shirt. The inevitable invasion of his
garment was fast approaching.

I positioned myself over him, leaned forward slightly and placed my
hands on my knees for support. His glazed eyes were fixated on the
sky. “Are you OK?” I asked.

He looked at me in despair. By now, his shirt was a few shades darker;
it had been taken over by the precious petroleum.

I picked up the pump, placed it in its compartment and offered Mike my
hand. He stood up and apologized: “I am sorry, I don’t know what
happened to me.”

My response was instinctive: “You are from Beirut, aren’t you?”

“Yes! How did you know?”

—

Greg was in civilian clothes. On his off days, he visited Van Bakery
in downtown Baghdad.

“Good morning. Greg. Same thing today?”

“Yes, ma’am. Sourj (coffee, in Armenian) and pagharj (a pastry from
the Van province in Eastern Turkey/Western Armenian), please.”

“Coming up.”

“Mrs. Carmella, I never asked how you learned to speak such good
English.”

“Let me get your order first, and then I will tell you a story.”

Greg Hauser was 21. He had joined the Marines from Glendale
College. He had befriended the middle-aged couple who owned the
bakery, Sahak and Carmella. Greg was in his third month of assignment
in Baghdad and had mixed feelings about his mission. On the one hand,
he still believed he was there to bring democracy to the Iraqi people,
and on the other, he had a difficult time understanding the
anti-American sentiment among some locals.

“OK, Greg. Here is your usual breakfast. Your sourj with foam on top,
and your pagharj, on the sweet side.”

“Thank you, ma’am. So what’s the story, how come you speak English?”

Carmella remained standing up. She wiped her hands on her pink apron
and responded: “Greg, did I tell you I have a son named Grikor? Same
name as yours in Armenian. We call him Gogo.”

“That sounds funny! Gogo!?”

“He lives in Glendale. He is studying civil engineering at USC.”

“Maybe I can visit him some day when my assignment is finished here in
Iraq. And your story?”

“Oh, yes. My grandmother is from the city of Van just north of Iraq,
in what’s now Turkey. When she fled the killings of 1915, she came
down south with her only surviving daughter. A Muslim Arab nomadic
family first sheltered them. Eventually, my grandmother and mom found
their way to Kirkuk, where they were cared for at a British military
camp. Since then, my grandmother has had high regards for Western
military personnel and the importance of knowing the English
language. When I was 5, she made my parents hire an English tutor for
me.”

“Your tutor must have been British. You have a slight British accent.”

“Actually, she was a Hindi lady from Bombay.”

“I see. The coffee was very good, Miss Carmella. May I have another
one?”

“Of course, dghas (my son), I will be right back,”

As Carmella passed the gray tape-covered glass door and stepped
inside, an explosion shook the ground. The pieces of shattered glass
barely remained in place, as intended by the thick gray tape. Carmella
rushed outside to learn about the fate of the young man.

She spotted him. His face was covered in dirt, and his lower body was
indistinguishable.

Carmella approached Greg and knelt down hesitantly: “Stay with me,
dghas. Stay with me.”

Patrick Azadian lives and works in Glendale. He is an identity and
branding consultant for the retail industry.
Reach him at [email protected]
Reach the Glendale News-Press at [email protected]

Agence France Presse
21 septembre 2004 mardi 12:58 PM GMT

La Turquie divise les Français, au plus haut niveau (PAPIER D’ANGLE)

PARIS

Le débat sur l’entrée de la Turquie dans l’Union européenne est
particulièrement vif en France, rare pays en Europe où le parti au
pouvoir et le gouvernement s’opposent sur cette question sensible.

Plusieurs Etats membres ont des réticences à l’égard de l’adhésion
d’Ankara à l’UE, comme l’Autriche ou les Pays-Bas, mais rares sont
ceux où le débat est à ce point passionnel et où il oppose
gouvernement et majorité.

Le président français Jacques Chirac s’est à plusieurs reprises
prononcé en faveur de l’entrée de la Turquie dans l’Europe, même s’il
souligne que cette perspective est encore lointaine. Aussi lointaine
soit-elle, celle-ci est encore trop menaçante pour son propre parti,
l’UMP, qui s’est prononcé en avril dernier contre l’entrée de la
Turquie dans l’Union.

Le président de l’UMP, Alain Juppé, avait alors expliqué que “les
pays proches” de l’Union européenne, y compris la Turquie, n’avaient
“pas vocation à y entrer sous peine de la dénaturer”.

L’autre parti de la majorité, l’UDF, partage ce point de vue en
estimant que la Turquie dans l’Union signerait l’arrêt de mort du
projet européen, comme l’a affirmé son fondateur, l’ancien président
français Valéry Giscard d’Estaing, il y a deux ans.

En rejetant ainsi la Turquie hors de l’Europe, l’ancien président
français a dit tout haut ce que beaucoup d’hommes politiques français
pensaient tout bas.

“Il fallait bien que quelqu’un mette un jour les pieds dans le plat.
Beaucoup de responsables, Français ou autres, disent en privé que la
Turquie ne rentrera jamais dans l’Union européenne”, relevait ainsi
le sénateur français Hubert Haenel, membre de la Convention sur
l’avenir de l’Europe que présidait M. Giscard d’Estaing.

Le pavé dans la mare jeté par l’ancien président français a libéré le
débat en France, note à ce propos Deniz Akagül, spécialiste des
relations entre la Turquie et l’UE auprès de l’Institut des relations
internationales et stratégiques (IRIS) à Paris.

Le débat est particulièrement vif en France en raison de la
popularité du concept d’Europe puissance dans les milieux politiques.
Or celle-ci, soutiennent les détracteurs d’Ankara, ne sera jamais
réalité si la Turquie rejoint l’UE.

Pierre Lequiller, député UMP et président de la délégation pour l’UE
de l’assemblée nationale française, est de cet avis, et son récent
séjour en Turquie à la tête d’une mission d’information parlementaire
ne l’a pas fait changer d’avis.

“La Turquie n’a pas vocation à entrer dans l’UE”, a-t-il affirmé à
l’AFP ce week-end à son retour d’Ankara.

Ces questions posées sur les conséquences d’une adhésion éventuelle
de la Turquie à l’UE sur le contenu du projet européen ne se posent
guère dans les autres pays européens, a expliqué M. Akagül à l’AFP.
Elles cachent aussi certains “soucis électoralistes”, a-t-il ajouté.

“Le débat est surtout motivé par l’opinion publique, car les sondages
montrent que celle-ci en France est majoritairement contre une
adhésion de la Turquie”, a expliqué ce chercheur.

La Turquie est ainsi devenu l’un des principauux sujets pendant la
campagne des élections européennes de juin et certains redoutent
qu’elle ne vienne perturber la campagne pour le référendum de
ratification de la Constitution de l’UE.

“Les Français ont peur. Il faut qu’on leur promette que ce sont eux,
et non l’Elysée, qui décideront de l’entrée de tout nouveau pays”,
estime ainsi le député européen Alain Lamassoure (UMP), hostile à
l’adhésion d’Ankara.

A gauche, le Parti socialiste est officiellement en faveur de cette
adhésion, mais il est en réalité divisée. Il a ajouté récemment une
condition supplémentaire à cette adhésion en réclamant des autorités
turques qu’elles reconnaissent le génocide arménien, sous la
pression, selon la presse française, de la communauté arménienne
particulièrement bien implantée dans plusieurs circonscriptions en
région parisienne et à Marseille (sud).

From: Emil Lazarian | Ararat NewsPress

Agence France Presse
21 septembre 2004 mardi 7:34 AM GMT

Rendez-vous européen: Dimitri Konstantinidis, l’art sans frontières
(PORTRAIT)

STRASBOURG (France)

“Je suis grec, français, alsacien mais je me sens bien aussi à Prague
ou ailleurs”: pour Dimitri Konstantinidis, installé depuis 25 ans à
Strasbourg où il a créé l’association européenne d’art contemporain
Apollonia, les frontières sont avant tout destinées à être dépassées.

“L’envie de partir, de voir ailleurs est presque devenue une
obsession au collège et le déclic s’est produit au lycée”, se
souvient cet homme de 44 ans, chaleureux, né à Kavala (nord-est de la
Grèce), sur les bords de la mer de Thrace.

“Je suis issu d’un milieu très modeste et pas du tout cosmopolite”,
dit-il, avant de se reprendre en évoquant ses ancêtres installés à
Trébizonde (Turquie), où “Grecs, Turcs et Arméniens cohabitaient sans
problèmes”, et qui ont dû fuir au début des années 1920, lors de
l’échange des populations grecques d’Asie mineure et turques de
Grèce.

Pour assouvir sa soif de découverte, le jeune homme d’alors, qui
souhaite passer un diplôme d’histoire de l’art, songe à poursuivre
ses études en URSS avant d’opter en 1979 pour Strasbourg, où une amie
grecque vit déjà.

Tout en préparant son doctorat sur “le concept spatial pictural des
icônes byzantines des 5e et 6e siècles”, il commence à travailler
pour une association culturelle lorraine basée à Saint-Avold
(Moselle), dans une région où vivent “beaucoup d’immigrés polonais,
italiens et portugais”.

A cette occasion, Dimitri s’immerge dans l’art contemporain en
organisant notamment des expositions avec des artistes des pays de
l’Est, alors que le mur de Berlin est toujours debout.

Un travail mis entre parenthèses en 1989, pendant deux ans, afin
d’effectuer son service militaire en Grèce, “pour ne pas me couper de
mon pays”, raconte-t-il. De retour en France, il prend rapidement la
direction du Fonds régional d’art contemporain (FRAC) d’Alsace.

Créés en 1983, ces fonds publics collectionnent les oeuvres d’art
contemporain, dans un but essentiellement pédagogique.

“Je me suis rendu compte que l’Alsace, Strasbourg avaient une
position particulière au niveau géographique et par la présence des
institutions européennes. Je me suis dit qu’il fallait faire quelque
chose”, poursuit-il.

Ce “quelque chose” prend la forme d'”un projet d’inventaire de la
culture contemporaine des pays de l’Est”, soutenu en 1995 par le
Conseil de l’Europe et qui aboutit, après la rencontre de plus de 250
artistes de 17 pays, à l’édition d’un guide puis à des expositions.

Cette volonté de “donner une dimension européenne” au FRAC d’Alsace,
ne séduit pas tous les élus locaux. En 1998, Dimitri préfère
“abandonner” son poste pour créer Apollonia, “une plate-forme
d’échanges artistiques européens” tournée notamment vers “l’Europe
centrale et orientale, les Balkans et le Caucase du sud”.

Depuis, il ne cesse de parcourir ces contrées pour dénicher les
artistes et leur permettre d’exposer à Strasbourg et ailleurs, à
l’image de l’exposition en cours dans les locaux d’Apollonia: des
créations polonaises autour de la “Quête d’identité” qui partiront
ensuite en Grèce et en Pologne.

Son dernier cheval de bataille: la mise en place d’un statut
associatif européen, avec des cadres juridique et administratif
identiques dans tous les pays de l’Union qui facilitent “le
pluralisme culturel en Europe”.

PanArmenian News
Sept 22 2004

ONE CANNOT INTIMIDATE ARMENIA BY SAYING REGIONAL PROJECTS PASS IT
ROUND, ARMENIAN FOREIGN MINISTER SAID

22.09.2004 18:00

/PanARMENIAN.Net/ “One cannot intimidate or disturb Armenia with
statements that it remains aside regional oil, gas and transport
projects,” head of the Foreign Ministry of Armenia Vardan Oskanian
stated in Yerevan today. “Nagorno Karabakh does not have a price and
is not subject to bargain, thus we do not accept the argument that by
protecting its interests the Armenian party loses the opportunity to
participate in regional projects,” the Minister noted. “We never
connected the Nagorno Karabakh problem with regional projects and we
are not going to do it in the future,” V. Oskanian noted.

PanArmenian News
Sept 22 2004

VARDAN OSKANYAN: TERRY DAVIS’ REPORT UNACCEPTABLE FOR ARMENIA

22.09.2004 17:25

/PanARMENIAN.Net/ The report prepared by PACE Rapporteur on Nagorno
Karabakh Terry Davis is unacceptable for Armenia, Armenian Foreign
Minister Vardan Oskanian stated at a press conference today. In his
words, the report contained subjective assessments and represents
“one person’s opinion.” “One cannot agree with it, and it presents an
incorrect notion,” noted the head of the foreign department of
Armenia. At the same time he pointed out that the report has no
status, especially that the newly appointed Rapporteur David Atkinson
is to prepare his own report as well. When answering a question
whether they may be concern over new Rapporteur also representing
Great Britain, which is known for its conservative approach to the
Karabakh problem, V. Oskanian pointed out that irrespective of
whether the report will be based on the previous one or not, it is
necessary to work with the new Rapporteur for his report not to
reflect one person’s point of view alone and not to affect the
Nagorno Karabakh settlement.