HIDDEN ARMENIANS OF TURKEY SEEK TO RECLAIM THEIR ERASED IDENTITIES
16:09 * 23.04.15
For the first 25 years of his life, Armen Demirjian thought he was
Kurdish. Then the elders in his village told him his family’s secret:
His grandfather was Armenian, a survivor of the genocide carried out
by the Ottoman Turks a century ago.
“I was completely confused,” said Mr. Demirjian, who is now 54. “I was
very sad as well. I was raised with the Kurdish culture and history.”
White House Acknowledges Armenian Genocide, but Avoids the Term
President Obama’s continued resistance to the word stood in contrast
to Pope Francis, who recently called the massacres “the first genocide
of the 20th century” and equated it to mass killings by the Nazis
and Soviets.APRIL 21, 2015.
Turkish Premier Says European Stance on Armenian Genocide Reflects
Racism
Prime Minister Ahmet Davutoglu urged Europe to look in its own
backyard after the European Parliament asked Turkey to recognize mass
killings of Armenians as genocide.APRIL 17, 2015 Mr Demirjian, whose
grandfather was sheltered by a Kurdish family as a child, held on to
his secret. In recent years, though,as Turkey has allowed minorities
to identify themselves more freely, he embraced in full his family’s
truth. He changed his name to his family’s Armenian one, participated
in the restoration of a church in this city, took Armenian language
lessons and started delivering Agos, an Armenian newspaper published
in Istanbul, to others in this area with a similar past. When his
cellphone rings, it blares a song by the Armenian-Syrian singer and
songwriter Lena Chamamyan.
“From now on,” he said, “I want to carry on with my Armenian heritage
and culture.”
The genocide and expulsion of Armenians from eastern Anatolia in World
War I, an atrocity whose centennial will be commemorated this week with
ceremonies around the world, is largely a story of the dead: Historians
estimate that nearly 1.5 million Armenians were killed. But there
are also the stories of the tens of thousands of survivors, mostly
women and children, who were taken in by local Turkish families. They
converted to Islam and took on Kurdish or Turkish identities.
Now, a growing number of their descendants are identifying as Armenian,
and their personal experiences contrast with the perennial denial by
the Turks and the lasting pain and anger of the Armenians.
The
Turkish government has long denied that the massacres amounted to
genocide — they say the killings were a tragic consequence of war,
not a planned annihilation. Armenians, both in a vast international
diaspora as well as inArmenia itself, have long demanded an apology
and recognition from Turkey.
The Armenians in southeast Turkey, whom historians have called
“hidden Armenians” or “Islamized Armenians,” want those things, too,
but for the most part they are less beholden to the painful past.
“If you compare our anger to the anger in the diaspora and in Armenia,
ours would be like 1 percent of their anger,” said Aram Acikyan, who
works as a caretaker here in Diyarbakir at the Surp Giragos Church,
the largest Armenian church in Turkey and the Middle East. The church
was restored in recent years with the help of the local Kurdish
authorities, and now symbolizes efforts at reconciliation.
Those efforts have largely been possible because the Kurds were willing
to acknowledge their role, as agents for the Ottoman Turks, in the
genocide a century ago. That the Kurds themselves suffered under
the Turks, who have long denied the existence of a separate Kurdish
identity, made reconciliation between Kurds and Armenians easier.”The
freedom we have here to say, ‘I am Armenian,’ is all thanks to the
Kurdish movement,” said Mr. Acikyan, 48, whose grandfather survived
the genocide and was taken in by a Kurdish shepherd and his wife.
Many of the hidden Armenians here who are rediscovering their roots
have found it easier to discard their Kurdish or Turkish identities,
and to embrace an Armenian one, than to relinquish their religion.
Most have remained Muslim rather than converting to Christianity,
the religion of their ancestors, and so the restored church here in
Diyarbakir feels more like a cultural center than a house of worship.
Easter at the Surp Giragos Church this year was a splendid affair, with
the sun shining brightly and plenty of colored eggs and traditional
braided breads. A priest flew in from Istanbul to celebrate Mass.
Yet when the service began, many of the few hundred people who had
gathered preferred to stay outside, under the sun in the courtyard,
chatting and smoking, or eating a breakfast of cheese and olives and
eggs at the cafe. And when holy communion was administered, roughly
a dozen people, maybe fewer, lined up.
“I love coming to the church,” said Ozlem Dikici, who was sitting in
the courtyard. “But I am Muslim. I pray five times a day.”
Ms. Dikici’s husband, who recently took an Armenian name, Armenak
Mihsi, sat next to her and repeated the story he was told by his
grandfather: The family was wealthy and had connections with the
Ottoman elite, and so was warned about killings and deportations.
“Only five years ago did I really accept this,” Mr. Mihsi said. “For 20
years, it was confusing. It’s not just being Armenian, but there is the
Christian side of it, too. It’s very difficult to change religions.”
Many of the Armenians who converted to Islam became even more religious
than their fellow countrymen, as if to prove that they were good
Muslims and to overcome prejudice and suspicion.
Mr Mihsi, for example, has made the Muslim pilgrimage to Mecca,
in Saudi Arabia, 10 times.
Through the generations, even while living as Muslims, many were aware
of their Armenian heritage. “It was all anyone talked about in this
region,” said Aziz Yaman, 58, but only within the family, in private.
Even today, he added, his family keeps to one old Armenian custom —
making wine, and drinking it.
“Everyone has their own story,” he said.
Mr Demirjian, a man of good cheer, smiled broadly when speaking
recently about coming to terms with his Armenian identity. Sitting
at a cafe here, he arrayed in front of him some of the relics of
his family’s past. A government document listed his grandfather as a
Christian. He showed his father’s passport, stamped by Saudi Arabia
from a long-ago pilgrimage to Mecca. There was also a magazine article
about a relative who became an antiques dealer in New York.
Each item represents a chapter of his family’s story: a Christian
identity erased, conversion to Islam, flight and exile, and, more
recently a rediscovery.
Turkish officials say that there are most likely several hundred
thousand people in eastern Turkey with some Armenian blood, but that
few have traveled the path that Mr. Demirjian and others at the church
here have. One local official said there were only 200 to 300 Armenians
in Diyarbakir.
Many are still hiding their heritage, Mr. Demirjian said, because
they are frightened. The word Armenian is used as an insult in Turkey,
as a suggestion that someone is a traitor.
“There are many other stories like mine, in all the cities and towns
around here,” he said. “In this region, when you pick up a stone,
under it is a story of an Armenian.”