Category: 2023

Book Review
Forbidden Homeland: Story of a Diasporan
By Katia Tavitian Karageuzian
384 pages

Forbidden Homeland, Story of a Diasporan is the passion project of Katia Tavitian Karageuzian. It is a delicately woven tapestry of a self-discovery journey transcending three generations of a family experiencing the Armenian Genocide, displacement and war.

Karageuzian was born in Lebanon and emigrated to the United States at the age of 16. Her maternal side is from Adana, and her paternal side is from Malatya. She has a Doctor of Pharmacy from the University of Southern California. A practicing pharmacist, she is also a member of Homenetmen and the ANCA community.

Karageuzian has always loved politics and history. In college, she reconnected with her roots when she discovered new relatives, descendants of her paternal grandmother’s siblings who had stayed in Turkey after the Genocide. It was a life-changing event that made the Armenian Genocide personal to her. Karageuzian realized that the Genocide never stopped. “In the aftermath, less violent ways of ethnic cleansing were employed,” Karageuzian said. The denial phase is ongoing, as the culprits are actively covering up and falsifying the crime. 

Katia Tavitian Karageuzian at Barnes and Noble

In her quest to get answers, Karageuzian employed a scientific approach, delving deep to find the root cause of the crime, how it was executed and why it continues with impunity. She recognized gaps in her knowledge of the Genocide. “The Diaspora Armenians went through a long recovery phase. It took a few generations to grasp how organized and far-reaching the perpetrated crime against their families was. The communities they formed in foreign lands had no national resources to rely on,” Karageuzian said. “Their community leaders and intellectuals were the first victims of the Armenian Genocide, and without the main pillar of awareness of identity, history was made to be forgotten.”

Forbidden Homeland is Karageuzian’s personal experience as a Diaspora Armenian and her quest to form a better understanding of the Armenian cause. The book is highly engaging and weaves Armenian history with current affairs and personal accounts. When she met her newfound relatives, they filled in the gaps and completed the family’s story. She learned from them about the many tribulations those who stayed behind in Turkey were subjected to. In her turn, Karageuzian added the trials and tribulations experienced in Lebanon by family members who had fled there as refugees, and later by her own family during the Lebanese Civil War. The puzzle pieces finally fit together. 

“Our people have been intentionally fractured, demographically and ethnically reengineered. If you don’t know your history, you don’t know how things evolved, you will not know your rights. Turkey and Russia committed ethnocide against us. Turkey wanted to Turkify us, and Russia wanted to Sovietize us. Geopolitics subjected us to national amnesia, because that suited the agendas of higher powers. There is always an economic and political reason behind every world event,” stated Karageuzian. “Knowledge of one’s own history is essential to a people’s survival.”

The book does a great job of detailing history as well as connecting it to present day events.

“History and truth are on our side. We have the backing of facts and documents,” Karageuzian said. She conducted her own research, drawing on the work of many Armenian scholars and writers such as Richard Hovannisian and Vahakn Dadrian, as well as more recent publications such as The Inconvenient Genocide by barrister Geoffrey Robertson and The Thirty Year Genocide by Jewish university professors Benny Morris and Dror Ze’evi. Books by Turkish historian Taner Akcam opened Karageuzian’s eyes and gave her an understanding of the Turkish perspective and the political and economic reasons behind the Genocide.

Book signing For Forbidden Homeland, Story of a Diasporan

It took Karageuzian 12 years to complete her book. The book is thoroughly done, and the documentation is highly detailed, yet easily comprehensible. “The Armenian Genocide didn’t begin in 1915, but rather with the Hamidian Massacres in 1894. Unfortunately it continues today in Artsakh and Armenia itself,” she said.

Karageuzian puts her knowledge to paper and makes her family’s story and Armenian history personal, her main reason for writing the book. It discusses the 44-day war in Artsakh, U.S. President Joe Biden’s acknowledgment of the Armenian Genocide, an updated definition of Genocide and the pan-Turkic ambition that drives it. It includes 20 pages of research documentation.

“I wanted it to be a book that anyone could pick up, especially non-Armenians, and be able to relate to the human aspects of the story. We need to rebuild our story. The Diaspora came about because of the crime. Maybe one day, we will have leadership unafraid to value Armenian life everywhere. It was upsetting when the pogroms happened in Azerbaijan in the late 1980s and no one took the culprits to the international courts. We have failed to value Armenian rights. We have allowed the other party to concoct untruths. I published, because all of us in our own ways need to up the game in pushing back on the falsehoods coming from the other side,” she said.

Karageuzian, who is on Instagram, has done book readings at Barnes and Noble, Fresno State University and Armenian private schools. Her book is available on Amazon, Abril Books and Sardarabad. Forbidden Homeland has won a Literary Titan Gold Book award and has placed third in World Politics at the Spring 2023 BookFest awards. You will feel so empowered and enlightened after reading Forbidden Homeland, Story of a Diasporan.

Growing up, whenever my attention would move to the causes of other peoples, my family and Armenian community would turn my attention back to our Armenian struggle, as if their hands were permanently embedded on my cheek, turning it the other way. Yet do we want to patent our victimhood and struggle? Is the Armenian struggle different or more important than other struggles?

In these past eight weeks, we have seen the death of over 20,000 Palestinians, many of them women and children. Families have been torn apart and entire lineages obliterated. We have seen the state of Israel perpetuate genocide. This is nothing new, but also begs us to ask our Jewish friends—is this the best you can do? Do you really believe you are the victims in this war? No civilian life should be taken, be it Palestinian or Israeli; however, there is something wrong in having to justify our support for an occupied people. Each day I come across a social media post and shake my head in disbelief at the delusions of many Zionists, the delusions of a people who justify their actions with their victimhood. 

Our Armenian people also have delusions. Few Armenians are standing by the Palestinians, and I question the silence of our community. Some justify their stance by saying that Hamas congratulated Azerbaijan on taking Artsakh. This is true, and Al-Jazeera often sides with the Muslim side, but are we forgetting that Israel is a strong ally of Azerbaijan and armed them to commit genocide in Artsakh?

Recently, my husband Haig, my sister Taline and I climbed Mount Ararat. It was magical and one of the hardest things we have done. The highlight for me was the unity of all people, of Armenian and Kurdish guides, on our ancestral lands. Many Armenians do not want to step foot in historic Armenia because it is present day Turkey. Yet this land calls to us, recognizes us and knows us deeply.

It took us three days to climb the mountain amongst friends who quickly became best friends. When undergoing an arduous adventure, our vulnerabilities emerge, creating space for true humanity. On our first night at base camp one, we met a group of Israelis who were preparing for their climb. Born in Lebanon and having lived through war in my early years, I am a bit wary of Israelis when I first meet them and where their politics and feelings lie. The eldest of the group, Daniel, was 80 years old at the time and very friendly. He had been a runner all his life, having completed numerous marathons. Daniel was also an environmentalist. He opposed Israeli PM Benjamin Netanyahu with passion, and as a progressive Jew, took part in many protests prior to coming on the trip.

On our first night, we partied under the full moon. We danced and sang, collecting our strength for the next day. Some of us felt a bit woozy from the elevation, but it was bearable. The Israeli group stood to the side watching us dance. Two of them joined, then retreated to their tent.

The next day was grueling, as we climbed and descended from Ararat in 14 hours. When we returned to base camp one, I noticed a Palestinian flag flying high. I ventured toward it and was excited to find a group of Palestinians preparing for their upcoming climb. We spoke a bit, and I told them that a group of Israelis was up on the mountain now. “They are progressives,” I said. Their eyebrows turned up. “Progressives. Let them show us how progressive they are. I would like to see that,” one of them said.

That evening, my body needed rest, and I had no choice but to lay in my sleeping bag. I heard the Palestinian group partying all night and fell asleep muttering about how much I wanted to join them. I still think of them often. 

For me, this was the highlight of our climb—people joined together in one place behaving like the humans that we are. 

I ask myself why we cannot take this approach with us everywhere. As Armenians, we need to stand with the Palestinians. As survivors of genocide, we need to build alliances with other communities to take our cause further. We need to fight for our existence, side by side with people who fight for their existence. We need to incorporate Indigenous voices in our narrative and support Indigenous struggles. Ours is an Indigenous struggle, so why do we hesitate to support others? Why is it that we look at our struggle as us-against-them? 

I believe our country has a bright future if we stand together. I pray that the narrative changes to allow for unity and the betterment of Armenia. As Hrant Dink wrote in one of his articles: “Come, let us first understand each other…Come, let us first respect each other’s pain…Come, let us first let one another live…”

The world has not been a safe place for Armenians, just as it has not been for the Jews. The victim mentality of seeing threats in many places is still present in the Armenian mindset. This approach perpetuates fear and promotes the intergenerational trauma within us. 

How about a different narrative? How about not seeing ourselves as victims? How about not fearing the people around us? How about embracing our strengths and not defining ourselves just by 1915? How about making our ancestors proud by becoming stronger in unity?

AYF Camp Haiastan, a cherished institution fostering memorable experiences for campers, is excited to announce a job opening for the position of Executive Assistant. As we continue to grow and enhance our operations, we are seeking an individual who is proactive, organized and adept at multitasking to join our dynamic team.

The Executive Assistant will play a pivotal role in supporting the Executive Director in day-to-day operations, with responsibilities spanning from maintaining a professional line of communication with parents, service suppliers and camp personnel to handling administrative tasks. The position offers flexibility, allowing for a work-from-home/hybrid setup during the offseason and requiring onsite presence during the bustling summer camping season.

Requirements:

• Proactive and problem-solving oriented personality.
• Advanced computer skills, including proficiency in Google Suite and Microsoft Office.
• Demonstrated expertise in utilizing social media and marketing platforms, such as Facebook, Instagram, Twitter and Constant Contact.
• Proficient website development skills, particularly with Wix websites (experience with other platforms will be considered).
• Must hold a valid driver’s license.

If you are passionate about contributing to the success of Camp Haiastan and possess the required skills and attributes, we invite you to apply for this exciting opportunity. Join us in creating unforgettable experiences for campers and being a vital part of our dedicated team.

To apply, please submit your resume and cover letter to [email protected]. 

Applications will be accepted until January 2, 2024. 

Thank you for your interest in joining the AYF Camp Haiastan family!

For the third consecutive year, I have been blessed with the opportunity to host Thanksgiving dinner in the Syunik province of Armenia. This year I gathered the villagers of Meghri’s Dashdoon, the neighboring village to Lijk where I currently stay. While I had originally intended to host Thanksgiving in the same village every year, to build a custom for the locals in hopes that they would organize the gathering themselves one day, this year I prioritized celebrating Thanksgiving in a village hosting Artsakhtsis, given the mass exodus from Artsakh. 

The village of Dashdoon

In September, the villagers of Dashdoon took it upon themselves to open their doors to those displaced from Artsakh, fixing up abandoned homes and offering them rent free in perpetuity to those willing to resettle in Armenia’s south. Dashdoon, which has less than 100 permanent residents, initially took in 10 families who the locals had met in Goris or had contacted in response to their Facebook posts looking for housing. Eight families totalling over 30 people remain today in Dashdoon and are set on staying in their new homes. The village now plans to reopen their school for the new children and hopes to accept more families in the coming months.

Three years ago, when I first decided to host Thanksgiving dinners in Syunik, my hope was to replicate the Armenian Relief Society Thanksgiving luncheons that I attended for years in Chicago. My first attempt was far from it, as the dinner in Davit Bek was entirely comprised of men, with the exception of one grandmother who washed dishes and her grandson who had come to help. Last year, I held two dinners, one in Ghapan’s southern Dzav village on the border with Artsakh, and one in Artsakh’s Marduni village of Ashan. Both dinners were an improvement, with a significant turnout of women and a handful of children, but it was still far from the family luncheons we enjoy in our community in the United States. 

This year’s Thanksgiving gathering

This year was by far the closest in resemblance to our diasporan Armenian community life and the most fun of all the dinners I have hosted. There were over 80 people in attendance, with all but a handful joining to feast on the local shepherds’ lambs, including all of the children of the village and many of the women and elderly. 

“It’s just jermuk, genats!”

My day began with the slaughtering of the lambs with some of the local men, a mix of Artsakhtsis and locals who had already become close friends over the last two months. For lunch we fried the organs and some of the tmag, or sheep tail, with a few toasts of local vodka before setting up the hall in preparation for dinner. Once everyone had gathered, our local Der Hayr, Der Rafael, led a prayer to start our evening. The hall was soon filled with sounds of joy and laughter as we dined together, only to be interrupted by the occasional genats (toast) to our land, families and soldiers. 

We sang and danced all night

As with every Thanksgiving I have hosted in Syunik, it was raised that this was the first time in many years that the village had gathered for a happy reason rather than for mourning. It did not take much of the local oghi for the villagers to start singing and dancing, creating a beautiful moment of peace and happiness despite the hardships and dark days we are living in. 

A week prior, my friend Shant Charchaf had toured an Artsakhtsi puppet show in Syunik. We hosted one in Dashdoon, where I learned that a few of the children from Artsakh knew how to play the shvi and dhol, but had left their instruments behind. I immediately reached out to my good friend Alek Surenian from Chicago to see if we could raise some funds to purchase instruments and lessons. We succeeded in doing so in one day, and those very instruments were put to good use at our Thanksgiving dinner. 

I want to give a special thank you to Shant and to Alek for investing in the Armenian culture of Dashdoon and to all my friends who contributed to my dinner and gave residents new and old an opportunity to spend a wonderful evening together over a delicious lamb dinner.

After only a week of searching for an apartment in Yerevan and dealing with local real estate brokers who thought that an apartment’s value lay in how close it was to a Thai massage parlor, Setrag decided to heed his parents’ advice and give their family home in Ashtarak a try. Months prior to his move, his parents bought a worn-out house outside Yerevan to renovate. The renovation was still incomplete, but there was a bed, and his father assured him with utmost confidence that all Setrag needed was to witness a single sunrise and to let the beauty of the stunning balcony view consume him in order to firmly want to stay in the family home. 

Setrag’s mom looking across the Ashtarak gorge from their balcony.

I, however, was skeptical. In his 20 years, Setrag had seen much of the most splendid corners of this world. He had seen magnificent sunsets on the shores of Portugal and the crystal beauty of Lake Como in Italy. He had sipped red wine on top of one of the thousands of islands of Greece. He had seen the breathtaking New York skyline, the mountains of Switzerland, the luxury of Dubai, the ceiling of the Sistine chapel and the ancient walls of Jerusalem. As much as I am in love with every inch of Armenia, I believed that this view in Ashtarak that we had never heard of was going to be a hard sell for someone like Setrag, who was surprisingly modest and unpretentious despite his many journeys across the globe. 

Setrag was also the definition of an extrovert. He could not stand being alone for very long. He was so extroverted that, as one of his closest friends, I felt annoyed by how he was not selective with the people he chose to hang out with. Though he had his set of close friends, he was remarkably open about who he spent time with. Whether they were materialists, nerds, aristocrats, ex-convicts, broken people or people so old that they could hardly hear anything, Setrag could, with incredible ease, spend an entire day with anyone. He was funny, witty, smart and knew six languages well. He could hold a conversation with peasants and presidents alike. He loved people, and people loved him. 

His gregariousness also caused many of his closest friends like myself a lot of irritability. He would never answer text messages, and he was always late. We all know someone who always runs late, but Setrag was on another level. He would arrive hours late to events he himself planned. In fact, when my friends and I organized our weekly intervention to deal with this problem, he would, as per tradition, light up a cigarette and calmly tell us to stop inviting him. It was Setrag after all—the life of every party. Thus, as per tradition, we would surrender to his whims. However, truth be told, this was another reason nobody wanted him to live in Ashtarak, a town outside Yerevan. Nobody wanted to see this tardiness issue further worsen. 

But, again, he was an extrovert, and I found it difficult to believe that he could live in the little town of Ashtarak. I think he himself had difficulty believing it. We assumed, like many diasporan Armenians with a touch of arrogance may assume, that Ashtarak was too far, too primitive and maybe a bit dangerous. Like many, Setrag and I steadfastly carried the dreams of the nation in our hearts—of a bigger Armenia, a more spacious Armenia, an Armenia whose borders extend from sea to shining sea. But, we knew nothing about Ashtarak—a town only 20 minutes from Yerevan’s city center. Was the water supply going to be an issue there? How often did the municipality shut the power off for repair and maintenance? Was there a stable internet connection? Setrag had already moved to Armenia—was that not enough adventure? Why did he need to live in the unfamiliar town of Ashtarak?

But Setrag, despite his scrawny build, was bestowed by God with a dauntless spirit that did not shy away from the unknown. He knew that the house was still under renovation, but since all the essentials were already installed and his parents had already spent two nights there, he believed the house was livable. He was also a good son to good parents, and thus, he decided to go see his family home to evaluate whether living there full time was a possibility. He asked me to join him, and so we went. 

I’ll admit, we went at a time that was hardly ideal. Setrag could spare a few hours out of his busy social life to finally visit his family home in the evening, at around 9 p.m., under the drizzling rain. We took a cab and left. Five minutes in, I could already see Setrag overwhelmed by every stimulus while driving on the poorly lit road surrounded by old Soviet cars and neon signs of worn out strip clubs. Since we did not know the way there, naturally, five minutes felt like an eternity—but the cab driver, with impressive consistency and without flinching, told us every few minutes that we were almost there. It was only after the sixth time he said it, that it bore any truth. When we asked him how he knew this time around, he responded that we just passed the Ashtarak town square. We thought it must have been one hell of a grand square if we did not even notice passing through it. Soon after, we started driving on a dirt road squeezed between the oldest houses in the neighborhood. The mud puddles created by the rain almost caused the car to get stuck. It was not exactly the type of reassurance that Setrag was looking for. 

With a bit of luck, however, we eventually got to our destination. We were greeted by a pile of construction sand, a single light bulb and a person who would change our lives forever—Shavarsh, the 50-year-old construction manager. We were yet to emerge from the cab, when Shavarsh greeted us with a wide smile and incredible warmth. Since I was skeptical and a bit nervous, I gave him a good firm handshake in hopes of setting the tone of this first encounter. To say that the firm handshake changed anything would be a lie. After a brief comment expressing fatherly disappointment about Setrag’s long hair, Shavarsh told him he was honored to welcome him home. 

Setrag and Shavarsh having their morning coffee.

When we stepped in the house, we were confronted with a bunch of furniture tucked away in the corner covered with bed sheets. They were placed there by Setrag’s parents to be unpacked once the renovation was completed. Shavarsh proceeded to give us the grand tour and told us about what we assumed were all the things he had finished building in the house. I say assumed, because we could hardly understand him at the time. He was loud, loquacious and spoke with the beautiful Javakhk dialect. He used a lot of construction terminology in Russian that we would not have understood even if he had said them in  English or Armenian. Whatever we understood, we understood not because of the words he used, but because he spoke with his heart and soul. He spoke to us like we were family. Even if we did not understand him, we knew he meant well. Every time Setrag asked him when a certain aspect of the construction would be completed, Shavarsh gave us a confused look, insulted that we had asked such a stupid question. He’d respond, “Tomorrow, of course. We aren’t playing around here.” They had already been working for five months, but with sheer luck, Setrag had arrived only a day before everything was to be completed. 

Setrag was never the type of person who looked for comfort or luxury, even though he could have easily obtained both wherever he wanted. In fact, he often would be happy with the bare necessities. Regardless, though, I repeatedly reminded Setrag that he could stay at my place until his family home was ready. At that stage of the renovation, even renting out a small apartment in Yerevan made more financial sense. But, my comments had the opposite effect of testing his ego. The more I insisted, the more he doubled down on wanting to spend at least a night there. Eventually, after 30 minutes of deliberations, he decided to stay the night to see whether the view his father had spoken of so highly of had any merit. 

The next day, Setrag woke up and walked out onto the balcony for the very first time. He was awestruck and mesmerized by what he saw—a view that would forever change his life and the meaningful future that it now held. The balcony faced the unparalleled crevice of the Ashtarak gorge and the dark rocky cliffs it was forged out of. On the other side was a school and a small church. At the bottom of the valley, the river Kasagh endlessly flowed, and the sound of the running water brought him a sense of tranquility like never before. In the near distance, an old, captivating pedestrian bridge stood firm and tall, extending across the gorge. It was a beautiful day. It was bright, and a graceful blue color was brushed across the edgeless sky. The soil seemed to shine, and the plants radiated fresh air after a calm night of rain. Setrag was lost for words. With a warm embrace, the land of Armenia had welcomed home one of her many wandering children.

The view Setrag woke up to on his first morning in Ashtarak.

His father, like all fathers, was right. That was all the convincing Setrag needed. Henceforth, the cosmopolitan, extroverted young Armenian, born and raised in the Holy City of Jerusalem, suddenly became one of the 5,000 residents of the town of Ashtarak. Of course, during the first few months, Setrag had to spend a lot of time making this building with four walls a home. Every day, he’d pay a visit to the local market and with a smile, dramatic gesticulations and immense patience, would explain to the store clerk what he needed. When, inevitably, they did not understand, they’d ask some other employee to come and help make sense of what Setrag was asking for. However, gradually, the house was furnished with pots, pans, towels, hangers, toothbrushes, couches, chairs, carpets, brooms, trash bins, curtains, clothes and dark coffee. Of course, it required time. One could not inorganically force a house to become a home. Plants needed years to grow. Items collected from lived experiences needed to make their way to the many corners and shelves of the house. Wine bottles needed to age and collect dust. Books needed to pile up. The picture of Ararat needed to be hung. A jar full of useless coins needed to be filled. His mom needed to bring Middle Eastern food spices. It took years, but before I knew it, in front of my eyes, the house Setrag had to take care of grew to become a house that took care of him. It had finally become home. 

The eminent dream of more than one hundred years had finally come true. Setrag and his family had a home in the homeland.

Head of the EU Delegation Ambassador Vassilis Maragos (seated left) and Deputy Foreign Minister of Armenia Paruyr Hovhannisyan (seated right) at the signing of the agreement between the Republic of Armenia and the EU on the Status of EUMA (SOMA), Nov. 20, 2023 (EUMA, X, formerly Twitter)

From November 27-29, 2023, a delegation of the European External Action Service (EEAS) and the European Commission visited Yerevan. The EU Delegation to Armenia said the purpose of the trip was to “explore possibilities to deepen and strengthen EU-Armenia relations.” Ideas were exchanged on “how to best leverage investments to address the immediate needs and enable integration of displaced Karabakh Armenians.” They agreed to “explore areas to strengthen cooperation between the EU’s Border and Coast Guard Agency (Frontex) and Armenia” and continue dialogue on matters of security and defense, such as the EU’s promise to explore non-lethal support to the Armenian military via the European Peace Facility. The EU representatives announced their support for the “normalization of relations between Armenia and Azerbaijan based on the principles of mutual recognition of territorial integrity and inviolability of borders based on the 1991 Almaty Declaration.”

Despite the outreach of the EU to Yerevan, it is still unclear whether the EU has a clear and unified strategy or vision for the future of the South Caucasus. Do the three states in the region have any future in the EU? Is the EU aiming to replace Russia in the region? Do the Europeans have an agenda when it comes to the Armenia-Azerbaijan peace agreement? These are important questions that need to be addressed when assessing the EU’s political and economic role in the region. Despite Russia’s efforts to sideline the West following the November 10, 2020 trilateral ceasefire statement, Azerbaijani incursions in Armenia and Russia’s inability to address Armenia’s security needs pushed the latter to seek the help of new partners. It is within this context that the EU deployed a monitoring mission on the Armenia-Azerbaijan border after the September 2022 escalation, thus becoming a peace facilitator in the Armenia-Azerbaijan conflict and a proactive player in the region. European think tanks started addressing some of these questions and proposing certain recommendations. In this article, I will highlight two important publications and summarize their recommendations related to Armenia and the region.

Objectives the EU should pursue in the South Caucasus

In March 2023, the Netherlands Institute for International Relations published a report titled, “The EU in the South Caucasus: Navigating a geopolitical labyrinth in turmoil.” The report argued that the EU should “develop and implement a more holistic strategic vision, both for the region and for its relations with the individual countries.” To fulfill this strategic vision, the report proposes that the EU adopt four parallel objectives that it should pursue in the South Caucasus: (1) exporting European values on good governance, democracy and human rights; (2) promoting regional stability and security; (3) expanding security, energy and trade interests; and (4) containing or even pushing back Russian influence. 

The report mentions that certain obstacles may arise in fulfilling these objectives. First, Moscow, although its “credibility as a security provider and its popularity in Armenia have shriveled,” tries to push the EU and the West out of any peace settlement process. Second, the issue of the establishment of a transport connection between Azerbaijan and its exclave Nakhichevan raises security concerns for Armenia, as Baku demands an extraterritorial corridor. A third obstacle is the demarcation and delimitation of the Armenian-Azerbaijani border and the withdrawal of Azerbaijani troops from Armenia’s sovereign territory. Finally, there is the issue of the rights and the future of the Armenians of Artsakh, which is no longer a priority for Yerevan, Moscow and the West after Azerbaijan engaged in a military operation that forced the Artsakh leadership to capitulate and the population to flee to Armenia, fearing massacre.

On the geopolitical role of the EU, the report mentions several recommendations:

• The EU should have a clear focus on the security dimension as well as the (geo)political, economic and normative dimensions of the region and strengthen its presence in the three countries.
• The EU should continue to “invest in both the construction and security of transport and energy connection.” Within this context, the “Middle Corridor” is mentioned as an important transit route connecting the Caspian Sea via Azerbaijani and Georgia to Turkey and Europe, increasing trade between China, Central Asia and Europe. Certain concerns were raised that Russia would engage in sabotage activities against this route. 
• The EU should avoid “both-sideism,” deter Azerbaijani efforts to impose a peace treaty on Armenia under military pressure and demand the withdrawal of Azerbaijani troops from Armenian territory. 
• The EU should ensure that “Armenia duly implements the commitments it has undertaken regarding the transport connection from Azerbaijan proper to Nakhichevan.” The report mentions that the EU has an interest in its realization, not only because it unlocks the communication transport channels between Yerevan and Baku, but also because it would strengthen the Middle Corridor trade and lead to a normalization process between Ankara and Yerevan, thus opening their shared border.
• The EU Mission in Armenia (EUMA) should be “endowed with sufficient resources and flexibility to fulfill its mandate.” The EU should make clear to Baku that the EUMA is an essential part of the peace process and encourage Baku to not only accept but also cooperate with the Mission, ideally “by allowing it to have access to the Azerbaijani side of the border.”
• When it comes to Artsakh, the paper recommended that the EU should press Baku to offer a credible and internationally monitored arrangement to the Armenians of the region, aiming to guarantee their rights and security within the context of “minority rights.” (The paper was published months before the September 2023 escalation and depopulation of the Armenians of Artsakh.)
• Finally, the report recommends that the EU should make a long-term investment in Armenia and engage in structural reforms to strengthen its democratic institutions and resilience. The report recognizes that in the short-term, Yerevan’s political and economic dependence will not decrease, and the EU must “manage Armenian expectations in this regard,” but it “can and should play a long game here (in the region).”

Three ways the EU can strengthen Armenia’s resilience

In November 2023, the European Council on Foreign Relations published “After Nagorno-Karabakh: How Europeans can strengthen Armenia’s resilience.” Marie Dumoulin and Gustav Gressel argue that even though Azerbaijan has captured Artsakh, security concerns in the South Caucasus are far from over, as Azerbaijan continues to push irredentist claims over Armenia. The authors say that the establishment of a land corridor through Armenia’s Syunik province, whether under the control of Russia or Azerbaijan, poses significant risks for Europe, as Ankara and Baku, with the support of Moscow, would control all the transit routes connecting Europe to Central Asia and China. To mitigate this threat, they suggest three ways that the EU can strengthen Armenia’s resilience. 

The first suggestion is that the EU should prevent further military escalations between Armenia and Azerbaijan. For this purpose, the EU should engage in high-level political engagement with Yerevan to show that it cares about Armenia. At the same time, it should engage with Ankara and Baku to minimize tensions and warn the Azerbaijani government that any possible attack would have consequences. To consolidate its active role in the region, the EUMA should extend its mandate and be equipped with the tools to better detect ceasefire violations. The authors welcomed the decision of the EU Foreign Affairs Council in November 2023 to increase the number of monitors.  

The second suggestion is to strengthen Armenia’s defense capabilities. The authors suggest that the EU should be open to using the European Peace Facility (an off-budget instrument to enhance the EU’s ability to prevent conflicts and build peace and security) to equip the Armenian army. It is important to engage with Georgia to facilitate the arms flow to Armenia. EU member states can also assist Yerevan in engaging in military reforms in the sectors of military logistics, training and education. Finally, engagement in strategic consultation with India and other partners is important to provide heavy arms to Armenia so that the latter can withstand future Azerbaijani attacks. 

Finally, the EU must support a peace settlement between Armenia and Azerbaijan. The authors argue that since Artsakh is no longer a part of the negotiations, “mediation should aim for an agreement on the delimitation and opening of borders,” including the Armenia-Turkey border. Regarding a transit route connecting Azerbaijan and Nakhichevan, the report concludes that as part of the future peace plan, the EU should offer investment opportunities and technical support to facilitate transit and connectivity. The authors say that the issue of Artsakh is “lost but suggest that the EU provide humanitarian aid to the Armenian refugees and help their “integration” into the Armenian society, to “ensure future domestic political stability in the medium and long term,” thus closing the issue of the right of return of Armenians of Artsakh. 

Importantly, the article says that the EU needs to convince the “Armenians not to have too many expectations, and Europe must refrain from making unachievable promises,” adding that the EU cannot “make Iran, Russia, Turkey and Azerbaijan go away—nor will it completely replace them.” Yet the EU can support Armenia to balance its interests without making painful compromises and prevent it from being fully dependent on a single regional power. 

To sum up, the recent publications and academic debates show that the EU is an active player in the South Caucasus. While the EU aims to minimize Russia’s influence in the region, the EU will not be able to replace Russia in the near future by exercising soft power (such as economic incentives or mediation), as long as it does not deploy leverage to push Baku to sign a peace treaty with Yerevan. For the EU, the issue of Artsakh, which was seen as one of the main obstacles to signing a peace treaty, is resolved. Following the loss of Artsakh, the EU is pressuring Baku to fulfill its obligations and accept the EU’s role in the region as a key mediating player. The question is to what extent the EU’s strategy will work, amid the exclusion of other key regional actors such as Turkey and Iran. The geography and cultures of the South Caucasus are unique compared to other conflicts in Europe’s neighborhood, such as in Eastern Europe. Policymakers must be aware that the South Caucasus is bordered by Iran, Turkey and Russia, and extra-regional actors such as China and India also have a share in this competition and in shaping the regional dynamics. Hence, for a stable and secure region, any peace process must be holistic, realistic and proportionally acceptable to the key actors.

It is a topic that consumes many of our church leaders globally, nationally and locally. Many of us lie awake some nights searching for the answer—how do we stop the obvious decline of many of our parishes? Each region of the Armenian nation has a different experience. The challenges in Armenia are generally associated with the impact of 70 years of Soviet rule, when the church was marginally tolerated but unable to provide public leadership. In the diaspora, we tend to attribute the decline of our parishes to the external impact of secularism and assimilation. The former has created a material society, at its worst obsessed with progress in a Godless state. Our children are separated from God in their daily lives, except in their family life. It is a struggle between two distinct worlds on this earth. Assimilation is associated with a separation from one’s Armenian roots, either by choice or due to the environment. These are real challenges and one of the reasons I advocate for a decentralized administration of our church hierarchy. Specific dioceses should be empowered to make adjustments to address the impact of these problems in a given locale. Unfortunately, our church remains a one-size-fits-all institution, and we suffer the consequences. 

Many Armenians blame intermarriage as a contributor to our decline. My perspective is that intermarriage, in and of itself, is not a direct contributor, because identity in the diaspora is a choice. Certainly, it adds complexity to the challenge, but a welcoming church that understands the implications of intermarriage can function with success. We have yet to address this matter in a meaningful way, other than encouraging the Armenian spouse to bring their non-Armenian partner to church. This reflects a lack of understanding of how to fulfill needs and build identity. Intermarriage is a sociological reflection of ethnic cultures two-three generations removed and should be embraced, not ignored.

Our parishes were built as a result of migration patterns. The first wave that built most of the churches in America was a direct reflection of the early 20th century immigration to these shores. Large communities such as the New York metro, Philadelphia, Boston, Detroit, Los Angeles and Fresno were established by the survivor generation from the Armenian Genocide. Other communities were built in places such as Indian Orchard, St. Louis, Chicago, Worcester, Syracuse and Niagara Falls by the same generation, reflecting employment patterns. It’s how Armenians built a presence in tiny Whitinsville, Massachusetts. The second wave of church construction reflected migration from within the U.S. and other countries to places such as Texas, Florida, Minnesota and other states not traditionally associated with Armenian communities. Many of these communities started as mission parishes and evolved into permanent faith communities. As a direct result of the church division, a duplication of parishes occurred in many legacy communities. Prior to the tangible impact of assimilation, these redundancies were tolerated, and a dedicated core of parishioners supported these churches. 

The impact of population shifts and assimilation, or at least estrangement from the church, has displayed a new reality in some areas. The small communities with a limited population base are most heavily impacted. Parishes in communities such as Niagara Falls, Syracuse (where the Prelacy church closed), Albany, Springfield and New Britain are experiencing visible evidence of decline, as the number of the faithful is limited relative to the number of parishes to support. This is a painful and difficult process for the hundreds of dedicated people who have devoted their lives to the Armenian church yet feel powerless as they witness this slow decline. We should feel compassion for the remarkable people of these communities who are trying to manage a situation out of their control. Yet the larger communities are not exempt from this decline. While the population base of Armenians serving many regions has increased, the number of children in Sunday School has declined, as well as church attendees. If you look at attendance relative to the population increases, the decline is even more significant. The difference?

Large communities can mask the problem better by sheer volume, as immigration from the Middle East and Armenia has replenished losses. In a small community of 75 families, the absence of 50-percent can be devastating and impact the services offered. In a large community of 700 families, 50-percent participation will still allow the critical mass to reasonably fill the church and have a functioning Sunday School and activities. This is not a criticism. We are all on this journey together.

The Consecration of Saint Stephen Armenian Apostolic Church (named after the first Christian martyr) Tremont Street, New Britain, Connecticut, May 1926 (Project SAVE Photo Archives)

It may be of value to discuss one example in more depth. St. Stephen’s parish in New Britain, CT is one of the oldest parishes in America, with its consecration in 1926. Prior to 1933, it was the only parish in New Britain. As a result of the schism, the Holy Resurrection parish was formed nearby and later built a beautiful facility on Stanley St. As is quite common in our complex relationships, you either went to the “Tremont St.” or “Stanley St.” St. Stephen’s was one of the unaffiliated parishes from 1933-56 and joined the Prelacy at its formation. Unfortunately, St. Stephen’s has experienced several communal challenges, resulting in a loss of parishioners. 

Facing the common issues of indifference and secularism, the parish today is held together by a few very dedicated servants of the church. Their story is not unusual, but if you live there it feels unique. I feel for the painful experiences of those remaining. They are all good people who have done what they believe is right. Some of the parishioners now attend Holy Resurrection, which is led by the dynamic young Rev. Fr. Haroutiun Sabounjian. I am thankful that they have chosen to continue in the Armenian church rather than join many in almost every community who simply drift away. This parish is more than an example of our challenge. It is also very personal. My grandfather Takvor Harotian was a charter founder of the church, and many of my relatives, particularly the Kevorkian family, served there for many decades. My mother was raised in that parish, and I remember many Sundays attending Badarak holding the hand of my dear grandfather. It will always be a special place. Ironically, after years of separation, relations between the Prelacy and Diocesan parishes in New Britain have never been better. At least, the faithful have a feeling of camaraderie that has been missing for so long in our churches. Intellectually, we may understand that two churches in a small community is not a natural state, but the decline of any parish is painful.

The current status of our churches begs the question—is it a lack of funding, or is it a lack of faithful? I am reminded of what a mentor of mine in the church told me many years ago. Our parish at that time was suffering from a financial deficit, and the board of trustees, the parish council, was debating options. This individual stated that if we are doing the work of God, we will never have a budget deficit. His point was, of course, that money is needed, but it comes more naturally when people are in a faith community and give from their heart. As we began to focus on the church’s work, our deficit disappeared. I learned something as a young man from that experience.

 It taught me that the most important area of focus in maintaining an Armenian Christian community is sustainable communal relationships. This is why our Lord created His church. We don’t go to a parish for the bazaar and picnics. They are instruments to sustain our parishes and vehicles for bonding. What we have in common is our belief in our savior Jesus Christ, according to the traditions of the Armenian church. If that is true, how we treat, greet and support each other will make the key difference. If our churches are focused only on fundraising rather than Christian outreach, we will fail. When a parish is symptomatically in decline, the causes can be traced to early on. Unresolved conflicts or drifting from the true mission of the church seem benign in the moment but erode the church foundation over time.

Everywhere in this country there are humble and dedicated faithful doing their utmost to carry out the mission of the church. We should pray for their wisdom and strength to keep the focus on Armenian Christian relationships. The Soorp Badarak is replenishing and nurturing for our souls, but too often we attend out of stressful obligation as we seek that nourishment. I don’t think St. Stephen’s has a financial problem, but rather is seeking the faithful. Many parishes can recover from decline if they focus on building a community of Armenian faith. Some will not. We don’t know what the future will bring but pray for the people of St. Stephen’s and all parishes struggling with sustainability. We have many wonderful stories of revitalization when parishes find the right leadership and attract new parishioners. It can happen anywhere. This is the power of prayer and understanding why we have parishes. We need not fear change but rather stagnation from a lack of change. It is my hope that we can apply this approach to wherever we call home. Encourage others to discover God in their lives and the joy of a Christian Armenian identity. Don’t focus on money. Share your passion of belonging to a Christian community. When their hearts are filled, the funding will appear. This is a lesson we can all learn from our ancestors. They built these communities with little education, limited funds but extraordinary faith. Today, as a result of their gifts, we are generally well educated, considered wealthy yet are challenged in faith as a community. Are our lives truly better? There is no need to eliminate what we have earned—simply apply it towards a deep and eternal foundation.