UCLA Daily Bruin
Tuesday, July 6, 2004

Freedom rings for Armenia
By Garin Hovannisian
DAILY BRUIN COLUMNIST
ghovannisian@media.ucla.edu

YEREVAN, Armenia – On July 4th Americans celebrate the signing of the
original document that sparked and symbolizes the fight for
U.S. independence. It is the celebration of a people’s independence
from the oppressive rule of a foreign government.

But on the opposite side of the globe, in a land-locked country called
Armenia and in its immediate and distant neighboring countries, there
is a different type of independence that cannot yet be celebrated. It
is the individual’s independence from the oppressive rule of his own
government.

The fall of the Soviet Union gave the various countries of Eastern
Europe the national independence that is necessary for a strong
society, but that did not guarantee the individual independence
necessary for the strong citizen.

This is the unfortunate reality that I have come to accept (but not
agree with) during the course of my stay in Armenia where facts of
family and heritage bring me every summer. Armenia, a small country
between the Black and Caspian seas, is the historic homeland of
Mt. Ararat, where Noah’s Ark is said to have landed. Its people have
survived genocide at the hands of the Ottoman Turkish government and
oppression in Soviet gulags. But it often appears that the Armenian
people might not survive the corruption and thuggery of its government
– a government run by a terrible president, adjudicated by a crooked
justice system and sponsored by the mafia.

I believe strongly however, that a sense of, or want for freedom is
fundamental to human nature. So on the 4th of July, at 6 “o’clock”, I
set out on my mission to find freedom in Armenia.

My younger sister and I picked up my friend Ruben, a tall, dry-humored
law student, and went to a play named “David of Sassoon Copperfield,”
which satirized the fact that Armenians like to believe, if only
jokingly, that all important people are Armenians.

The play revolved around the imagining that David Copperfield the
magician was in reality David of Sassoon, an Armenian folk hero. There
was a bit of freedom there, but surely there was more to be found. So
we took a 20-minute drive to Ararat golfing range where a prominent
Armenian American family was hosting an Independence Day
celebration. The gathering was complete with hamburgers, hotdogs,
jazz, U.N. and U.S. ambassadors and late-night fireworks. Freedom
could be felt here too. But was it a bit forced?

After dropping my sister back at home, Ruben and I met up with some
friends at Armenia’s striking Opera House, which is surrounded on all
sides with booming cafes and outdoor restaurants. It is the heart of
Armenia’s nightlife.

At midnight, hundreds of people gathered around the projection TV of
one of those cafes to watch the European Cup soccer championships
between Portugal and Greece. The Armenian people are wholly different
from Americans in their approach to sports. Instead of rooting for the
underdog, Armenians cheer for the favored team. Though Greece and
Armenia share a common history and culture (which is why I was rooting
for them), the viewers at first cheered on the Portuguese. But time
would change that.

Almost an hour into the match, Greece scored the only goal of the
game. The reaction of the crowd was indescribable, but I’ll describe
it anyway. It was as if, for that moment, nothing else mattered or
existed. It was as if for that moment those Armenians were bound
neither to state nor shady laws. It was as if for that moment
everything was free in Armenia. In the victory of a foreign team, the
Armenians of the Opera House saw a reason to celebrate.

Even the Portuguese fans now put their glasses with ours and made
toasts. To Greece. To Armenia. To Independence. Ah, sweet
independence.

In the first hours of the new day, we walked the streets of Armenia
which at night seem like they come from a Disneyland ride.

We ended up at Republic Square, the cross-section of several major
streets and the site of government buildings, banks, water fountains
and the Armenia Marriott.

At the center of the square, dozens of people had gathered with Greek
and Armenian flags. The Syrian-Armenian Hovik, who was the big
Portugal guy at our viewing at the Opera, led the Greek fans in a
chant and run around the square.

Overhead, a full moon peaked at the Armenians through a clouded
sky. It saw scores of cars circling around the center strip and
honking horns, a group of winners and more winners singing anthems and
yelling in joy and a philosophical author who had found what he was
looking for.

I knew that the next day Armenia would be dismayed again. But in that
moment, I did not care. For while the United States celebrated
independence on one continent, Armenia experienced the exact same
thing on another.

It celebrated the most important meaning of Independence Day – the
independence of the individual.

What will happen to these lonely countries here on the other side of
the world, I do not pretend to know. But as long as there is hope and
a will to be free, freedom will be.

Hovannisian is a second-year history and philosophy student. E-mail
him at ghovannisian@media.ucla.edu. Send general comments to
viewpoint@media.ucla.edu.