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Tuesday, February 25, 2025

When Vartan Mamikonian Was About to Balk - Simon Simonian (1/2)

In memory of DIKRAN GULLEKIAN. This blog was originally posted on Tuesday, August 3, 2021. I am reposting it in remembrance of Dikran Gullekian, whom I had befriended on Facebook. I had asked him to send me a picture of the painting of Vartan Mamikonian, I had seen on a wall in his room, in Beijing, China. Dikran Gullekian passed away on December 30, 2023 in Montreal (see below). I am reposting the blog in his Dikran’s memory. Vaհe H Apelian

Courtesy Dikran Gullekian

«Geh khntrvi Khatchatsevel – Կը Խնդրուի Խաչաձեւել» is the title of an unusual book by the late Simon Simonian. He fictionalized an event that allegedly took place in Beirut’s UNESCO Hall filled to capacity, where some of the Armenian historic figures, such as: Gregory the Illuminator, Catholicos Sahag Bartev, the legendary patriarch of the nation Haig, Dikran the Great, King Drtad and many others, came onto stage and said what they did and what would have happened had it been their way.

The slogan of the event, in classical Armenian, was the following: “There has not been a dusk that was not followed by a dawn”. The theme of the dignitaries’ discourses was tri fold: 1.What did we do for the Armenian people. 2. How is that the Armenian people survive and did not die off? 3. Why is it that the Armenian people will not die off?

This fictitious event was supervised by the current Armenian political parties, each having assigned a specific task. The Hnchagians were to ring the bell alerting the attendees to the succession of the appearances of these Armenian historical dignitaries on stage. The Tashnags were tasked to oversee the security of the event. The Ramgavars were tasked to maintain silence as the event progressed. The Communists were tasked to create commotion. The event supposedly took place on January 1, 1965, the year the 50^th anniversary of the Armenian genocide was to be commemorated

From the get-go, the readers are alerted that this unusual event is a satirical Armenian history review. Customarily when organizers announced an upcoming event, they alerted the community not to hold another event that would overlap theirs. But this time around, the organizers were imploring to have this event overlapped, which made the title of the book "Please Overlap". After the appearance of the dignitaries on stage was concluded a dinner dance was held.

The book is 152 pages long and was published by Simon Simonian’s Sevan Publishing House in Beirut in 1965. The book retailed for 2.5 Lebanese Lira, or 3 Syrian pounds. For those who live abroad (aradasahman) the book retailed for a dollar.

It should be noted that ardasahman is a term Armenians in Armenia use for those who live outside Armenia. It also should be noted that Simon Simonian was a persona-non-grata in Soviet Armenia and his literary works and the bi-weekly “Spuyrk” he published were banned in Soviet Armenia. Consequently, Simon Simonian must have known that his book will not see the light of day in Soviet Armenia and the Armenian Diaspora outside Lebanon was abroad for him. Simon Simonian was a fiercely independent person and the only organization he belonged was the compatriotic union of the Sassountsi Armenians. His parental lineage was from Sassoun.

A quote in the book pertaining to Vartan Mamigonian prior to the famous Battle of Avarayr, bewildered me. It reads as follows: “On the Greek-Persian border, shortly before the Battle of Avarayr, Zoravar Vardan Mamikonian was stopped by Armenian border guards as he tried to cross to the Greek side with his entire family, his wife, his two brothers, Hmayak and Hamazasp, and their wives, sons and grad children and with all his blood relatives (nobles) and servants. Vartan Mamikonian declared at the border that he is crossing to the Greek section for the freedom of worship, and that his brother Hmayak was even willing to do begging (pp. 176-7). The border guards returned Vardan Mamikonian and his blood relatives to the Ayraradian plain and showed them the way to Avarayr. It is evident that Vartan was forcibly led to Avarayr, against his free will. They were ordered to rest all winter.” GHAZAR PARBETSI, a relative and friend of the Mamikonians. (Venice Press, pp. 174-185).”

Simon Simonian attributed the quote to the Armenian chronicler Ghazar Parbetsi and “authenticated” it by citing not only the author but also the pages of the book and its source. When I inquired about the authenticity of the quote, some friends claimed its completely ficticious. Sassoun, Simon Simonian’s claimed it is an authentic quote. Fortunately, two friends came to my rescue forwarding me a copy of the chronicle and Harout Topjian, who is educated in Cilician See, shared the following by putting it in context and noted that Vartan Mamigonian, angered by the disunity and discord among the Armenian wanted to pass to Armenia under the Hellenic rule. The Armenian nobles having heard from Vasak Sunni, who was the marzban (Persian appointed governor) of Armenia, Vartan Mamigonian’s intention and preparation to cross to Armenia under the Greek side sent a delegation headed by the priest Ghevont Yerets who assured him the Armenian nobles stood by the secret vow they took, while they pretended yielding to the Persian King Yezkert’s demands and accepting the Persian religion so that they could return to Armenia for the sake of their homes and families. The delegation implored him to return for they knew without Vartan Mamigonian’s leadership they will not be able to counter the eminent attack by the angered Persian king.

Vartan Mamigonian relented and returned noting to them he feared neither the enemy, nor the dreaded war. It is only because of the divided loyalties and disorderly deeds that he decided to move to Armenia on the Byzantine side with his family, brothers, their families and his courtiers and that he would return as long as the nobles promised to act in an orderly manner and remain united.

Thus began the preparation of the famous battle waged on the plains of Avarayr. The disunity and the discord among the Armenians appeared to have posed to doom the most famous Armenian battle, its contemporary chronicler Eghishé described in detail.

As to the Simonian’s quote, there is a kernel of truth in it, but surely he has changed the wording as the actual text by Ghazar Parbetsi indicates (next).

Note: Simon Simonian’s posted quote: “Յոյն-պարսկական սահմանին վրայ, Աւարարայրի ճակատամարտէն քիչ առաջ, Հայ սահմանապահերու կողմէ վար դրուեցաւ Ծօրավար Վարդան Մամիկոնեան, երբ կը փորձէր պարսկական բաժնէն յունական կողմը անցնիլ՝ իր ամբողջ ընտանիքին եւ տոհմին – կնկան, երկու եղաբայրներուն՝ Հմայակին եւ Համազասպի, անոնց կիներուն, զաւակներուն ու թռռներուն, իր բոլոր արիւնակից ազգականերուն (ազնուական) եւ ծառաներուն հետ։ Վարդան Մամիկոնեան սահմանին վրայ յայտարարեց թէ ոգիի ազատութեան համար կ՚անցի յոունական բաժինը, իսկ իր եղբայր Հմայեակ՝ նոյիսկ մուրացկանութիւն ընելու համար ( էջ 176-7)։ Սահմանապահերը Այրարատեան դաշտ վերադարձուձին Վարդան Մամիկոնեանն որ իր արիւնակիցները եւ անոնց ցոյց տուին Աւարարայրի ճամբան։ Յայտի է որ Վարդան բռ նութեամբ կ՚առաջնորդուի Աւարայր, իր ազատ կամքէն հակառակ։ Հրամայուեցաւ անոնց՝ ամբողջ ձմեռը հանտիստ ըմել։ՂԱԶԱՐ ՓԱՐՊԵՑԻ, Մամիկոնեաններու ազգական եւ բարեկամ պատմիչ։ (Տպ. Վենետիկ, էջ 174-185 ).

***

Dikran Gullekian

Hamprtsoum Antourian broke the news of the death of Dikran Gullekian noting: “With great regret I announce the death of a great friend DIKRAN GULLEKIAN (KELEKIAN), a the of 70 after a long illness. He left us quietly in the evening of December 30, 2023."

I befriended Dikran on Facebook. He was born and raised in Lebanon. The whirlwinds of life had taken him to Beijing, China where he made a living catering middle-eastern food and had become a good ambassador to all things in Armenian. He was divorced after having married locally. He often posted about food and about pets. He appeared to be an animal lover.

ON December 10, 2019, Suzanne Ajamian, on behalf the Armenian community in China (CHINA-HAY) posted that “Dikran Gullekian, an Armenian residing in Beijing and fighting for his December 9, our friend Dikran Gullekian – much loved for his kind heart and delicious hummus – suffered a stroke requiring immediate heart surgery to save his life. Together the Beijing community raised a miraculous Y250,000 for doctors to successfully operate on Monday night. Dikran is now stable in the ICU and faces a long road for recovery.

It was around that time that I befriended him on Facebook. He seemed to get by doing what he did, middle eastern cuisine and attended to pets. He had posted a picture of Vartan Mamikonian he had someone draw for him. I had asked him to have a picture of the painting forward to me. He did and I posted it in my blog and reposted it here next to a picture of his. He left the painting behind in Beijing, China, when he moved to Montreal, Canada where he had relatives and friends. He passed away, on December 30, 2023, as posted.

I attached some of the comments on his Facebook page.

“He is one friend I miss a lot, he was my 5th friend on FB. Humorous, kind, respectful & very considerate. I pray for the Holy Spirit to comfort us all.... in Jesus Name. (Nora Matossian)

“RIP my friend. will miss our talk around food and Spice”. (Bedros Bedros)

“Just learnt the passing of Dikran, RIP “Laogu. (Zhen Gupo)

“Rest in Eternal Peace dear Dikran my Facebook friend, although I never met you but you were a part of my daily visit to Facebook” (Armineh Արմինէ Khachadourian)

“老友老顧Dikran Gullekian於加拿大時間2023/12/30過世

享壽70歲 RIP” Leo Liu

When Vartan Mamikonian Was About to Balk - Simon Simonian (1/2)

This blog was originally posted on Tuesday, August 3, 2021. I am reposting it in memory of DIKRAN GULLEKIAN, whom I had befriended on Facebook. I had asked him to send me a picture of the painting of Vartan Mamikonian, I had seen on a wall in his room, in Beijing, China. Dikran Gullekian passed away on December 30, 2023 in Montreal (see below). I am reposting the blog in his Dikran’s memory. Vaհe H Apelian

A painting of Vartan Mamikonian courtesy Dikran Gullekian

As to the Simonian’s quote, there is a kernel of truth in it, but surely he has changed the wording as the actual text by Ghazar Parbetsi indicates (next).

***

Dikran Gullekian

I attached some of the comments on his Facebook page.

“He is one friend I miss a lot, he was my 5th friend on FB. Humorous, kind, respectful & very considerate. I pray for the Holy Spirit to comfort us all.... in Jesus Name. (Nora Matossian)

“RIP my friend. will miss our talk around food and Spice”. (Bedros Bedros)

“Just learnt the passing of Dikran, RIP “Laogu. (Zhen Gupo)

“Rest in Eternal Peace dear Dikran my Facebook friend, although I never met you but you were a part of my daily visit to Facebook” (Armineh Արմինէ Khachadourian)

“老友老顧Dikran Gullekian於加拿大時間2023/12/30過世

享壽70歲 RIP” Leo Liu

Friday, January 3, 2025

He Was Different - Ան Ուրիշ էր

Բնագիրը կցուաց է Attached is my translation of Simon Simonian’s poignant story about his mother. The story is titled "He Was Different" - "An Ourish Er - Ան Ուրիշ Էր. It was the first story in Simon Simonian's book titled "The Mountaineers' Twilight” - “Լեռնականներու Վերջալոյսը”, published in Beirut in 1968. Vahe H. Apelian

Bédo was my mother’s first husband and my father’s bosom friend. My father and Bédo had worked together in the same mill. After Bedo’s death my father married his wife, my mother.

After his death, Bédo has continued living in our house and continues to live as a husband, as a father and as a friend, but as a foe of a friend. My father, who had loved him as a brother, is the only one who is discontented with Bédo coming back to life. His animosity started after Bédo’s interment. I remember well, during my childhood, every time there was bad feeling between my mother and my father, the person responsible for the trouble was Bédo who worked in mysterious ways after his death much like all the great souls, saints and heroes do after their deaths.

Bédo was not a saint or a hero. He was a mere Sassountsi from the Dalvorig village. He was the son of an ironsmith. His father had worked in the Dalvorig mines extracting iron from the rock veins and melting it to make plows, hatchets, shovels, pickaxes, and rifles. The guns were muzzle type with which he, his brothers and the villagers had defended themselves against attacks by Kurds and Turks. The leaders of the Armenians were Mourad (Hampartsoum Boyandjian), Mihran Damadian, “Baron” Vahan, Kevork Chavoush and other luminaries of the time. It is in honor of Bédo’s father and his comrades that the once popular patriotic song, “I am a Brave Son of Dalvorig”, was sung.

At twenty Bédo had left Sassoun and after working in mills, had settled in Aintab much like many Sassountsis. At twenty-five, he had married my mother Ménnoush who was barely eighteen then. Bédo, a handsome, brave young man, had captivated my mother’s heart.

“Mother, was Bédo handsome?” I used to ask my mother in my childhood as she recounted stories about him.

“There was no other like him,” my mother would say and continue: “He had dark eyebrows and moustache; a handsome posture, a proportioned face. He dressed like a bég. All the girls in our town noted his manly handsomeness. Lucky you, the women would tell me…..”

To validate her description, she would open her old chest, the dowry chest, which along with her and much like her, was becoming a worn down witness of old and happy days. From underneath the moth laden, malodorous, dark blue, apricot and pearl-colored worn out clothes, she would pull out her photo bundle, unwrap its silky shroud and hand to me her wedding picture so that I would look at Bédo, her Bédo.

My mother’s recollection would fill my soul with fascination towards the man who had once been my mother’s husband. To further stress so that I would not waver from the impression I harbored of the dead man, my mother would add: “In this picture he does not look as handsome as he was. Hey, bygone days. We took this picture in haste. He had just returned from the mill and was covered with flour all over. The neighbors were having their pictures taken. In our days, women did not go to the photographer’s shop. We had this picture taken on the spur of that very moment because he refused to change his clothes”

At times, during these mysterious viewing sessions, my father would happen to suddenly step in the house. My mother, with tears still in her eyes, would wrap the picture and place it back. My father, silent and sad, would sit at a corner and inhale the smoke from his cigarette more deeply than usual. My father’s sad silence would last for days, sometimes for even weeks during which time he would not speak with my mother. That absent person beyond the grave thus caused a lot of heartache between my father and my mother. My father’s sadness, my mother’s tears and the omnipresence of the departed would fill my childhood soul with an unexplainable mystery.

During winter, whenever my father would be absent for months on end working in the mills, my mother would sit around the oven area during the evenings and tell us about Bédo who had told her father “let your ‘yes’ not be a ‘no’”. After long deliberation, her father had consented to give his daughter away in marriage to Bédo. After their engagement, during which they had seen each other only once, seven years of blissful marriage followed.

“He was an out of the ordinary man”, my mother would tell us; “whenever he missed home, whether there was snow or blizzard, he would walk for four hours in the cold of the night just to come home.”

Of course my mother was the repository of his joy. They thus lived happily but without a child. My mother had believed that on the seventh year of their marriage, she would conceive and carry his child. The seventh year brought with it the unexpected, Bédo’s sudden death in the mill during work. There is no need to visualize my mother’s torment and agony. My mother would recount his elaborate funeral procession and the overwhelming sadness among the Sassountsis and would particularly emphasize my father’s inconsolable lament over the loss of his bosom friend. Time did not heal my mother’s wounds. There had remained only one thing for my mother, visiting her husband’s gravesite even in the dead of the winter.

“I remember well,” my mother would say. “It was Vartanants Day and I needed to visit his grave at any cost. Our cemetery did not have walls or guards. There was the fear of wolves. My mother was with me. As I was walking among the graves, suddenly Bédo appeared in front of me in the same dress we had him dressed for his interment. I froze. He looked at me and said, ‘return home and do not come here anymore’. My mother arrived and saw me standing still. I told her nothing about the occurrence. I grabbed her arm and we returned home. We had not reached Bédo’s grave yet. My mother remained perplexed.”.

That day became a turning point for my mother. From there on she found refuge in her needlework. From a whole year’s labor she raised enough funds to place a tombstone on Bedo’s grave, on which she had inscribed:

However, the thick tombstone with all its weight has not been able to contain Bédo’s heart that continues to live on this earth, that is to say, in my mother’s bosom.

A year passed. My father proposed to marry her. They got married. They started having children. My mother devoted herself to raising her children. But she never forgot her Bédo. The passing years and responsibilities crystallized Bédo’s love like a diamond that my mother keeps in her heart. In fact, it’s the only crystal she carries in her heart. She raised her children in memory of Bédo. My mother is convinced that we are Bedo’s children for, as a matter of fact, Bédo had appeared to her the day before her conception. Without the apparition of Bédo, she claimed, she had never conceived. Bédo had become our Holy Ghost

My mother had willed that when she died, she should be buried next to Bédo. However, her exile put an end to that vow. But my mother had taken another solemn vow that neither exile nor war or anything earthly would deter her from that solemn vow. In her after life she would be with her Bédo. My father knew about my mother’s alarming preference. That is why he remained melancholic the rest of his life. He knew that there was a fateful separation in store for him in afterlife.

My mother’s preference had me ponder. I have thought that her first love, Bédo’s handsomeness and bravery, the loss of her youthful happiness influenced her decision to make her preference known to us. But there was something different with my mother. Whenever I quizzed her, she would only say: "He was different.”

My mother admits that my father, her second husband, has been virtuous, God-fearing, good natured, just and has always treated her kindly. But all my father’s virtues have given way to the appeal of the deceased. My mother, in her essence, remains the spouse of the deceased. My father carries a wound that never healed because of my mother’s total devotion to Bédo. That is why his once bosom friend Bédo, has become his foe after his death for whom he can do no harm with his living self. The other, on the other hand, from the beyond, continues to aggravate my father on Earth.

We, the children, presented alternating stands towards our two fathers. In our childhood, through my mother’s tales, we deeply loved Bédo. When we grew older and realized our father’s pain, we sided with him and pounded Bédo, who through his interference from the world beyond, caused so much grief to our father. Our assault for a while bore fruits. Bédo’s downfall started. But we could never dethrone him for my mother continued to open her wooden chest, unwrap the bundle and with her fingers caress the pictures while murmuring softly “He was different.”

We ended our teens, rounded our twenties and became more mature. We ceased to side with either of my parents. It was the period of our neutrality. We let our mother receive her extraterrestrial visitor in our home and continue her affair with him. But we did not let her verbalize her preference to us.

There remains the last chapter for us that will start in the afterlife. We are sure that a separation will take place, our mother will re-join with her Bédo who is surely waiting impatiently for her. We will remain with our father. Separated from us, our mother will miss us. She will vacillate between her Bédo and us. She will want to join us with Bédo in a threesome arrangement of sorts. My father who despised the francophone triangle and the ghostly presence of Bédo will not want to have his erstwhile friend turn his foe in our midst. We, who were not accustomed to such things on Earth, will reject our mother’s proposition. With each passing day, our mother will miss us more and more. She will eventually concede, leave her Bédo behind and join us, and we will have our family anew.

***

I wrote this piece after a long delay and reader be mindful that my mother is an old woman as I write about her Bédo. She has heard from my brothers that I write about Sassountsis. She confronted me once and said: “Son, let it not be that you write about Bédo. He was not like Mano or Magar. He was different…..”

Forgive me mother, for I wrote about your Bédo.”

Բնագիրը՝

Tuesday, December 31, 2024

How my generation was thought Armenian History

Simon Simonian’s history textbook was the standard history textbook for my generation, those of us who came of age in 1965, at the 50 the anniversary commemoration of the Armenian Genocide. I copied Levon Sharoyan’s recollection of Simonian's history textbook from his book about Simon Simonian I translated. Vahe H Apelian

“Many in the Diaspora remembers these textbooks that became the standard history textbooks in the Armenian schools not only in Lebanon and Syria but also in Cyprus, Greece, the United States, Argentina, Jerusalem, and Ethiopia.

Who knows how many generations made their connections to their illustrious history through these textbooks? How many generations molded their identity as Arenians throught these textbooks? Countless are those who came to know of David of Sassoun, Lion Mher, Dragon fighting Vahankn, our legendary partriarch Haig, Ara the Beautiful, the pagann gods that brought the dead to life by licking their wounds. King Baruyr, Dikran the Great, Ardashes the Conqueror, the imprisoned King Arshag, Moshegh Mamigonian on his white horse, King Vramshabouh, Viartan who was killed in the battle of Avararyr and the Pakradouni Kings who built Ani. Roupen, Levon who established sovereignty on the Taurus Mountains, and all the other heroes of our history.

I was an elementar school student when my mother gifted me this sequel of Simonian’s Armenian history textbooks that were bound in a single volume. From the ifrst page, I remained attached to the large volume. I could read the sequel page by page and would be moved looking at those mysterious pictures. I would remain fascinated by the bravery of the Armenian kings.

Simonian’s writing style was captivating. It was not a cut and dry history that Simonian narrated. He inspired and reinforced his adolescent readers’ Armenian identity.

Simon Simonian, "Armenian History" textbook
fifth grade.

At the very beginning of the first volume, Simon Simonian had placed a paragraph titled “The Reflection of the Armenian Student”, like a covenant of faith, it reads:

“I am an Armenian. My fatherland,

Where my forefathers have lived and died

Is called Armenia. But I do not live in

Armenia. I am away from it in exile.

Above all, I will love my fatherland

and I will not forget its name. I firmly

believe that I will return there one day. To

hasten that day, I will always read about the

history of my brave ancestors. I will love

my church and my fatherland and I will

feel proud to be called ARMENIAN.

I have vowed to remain worthy to see

Massis and Davros, Sipan and Nemrut;

Puragan and Davros, Arax and Sevan;

Etchmiadzin and Saint Garabed’

Gars and Garin; Van and Mush.”

What a structure for students to be prepared for and introduced to Armenian history.

In writing his history textbooks, Simonian had adopted a very practical and helpful method. He narrated a historical event with a pleasant and in an easy-to-read language. He then listed key words, which might be unfamiliar to the students by listing them under a header called “Explanatory Words”, with an explanation for each. He listed eight to ten questions related to the narration under “Questionnaire”. Header. He then listed “Points for Elaboration” for the teacher to provide more details. At the end, he listed under “Sources”, references that could help teachers and anyone else interested to expand his or her knowledge about Armenian history. For example, when he narrated the period of the Arab invasion of Armenia, he listed the following sources at the end of the chapter: Sepeos, historian Ghevont, Tovma Ardzrouni, as ancient Armenian historians as well as books published in Venice and Vienna, including a source in French.

Let us be mindful that Simon Simonian was barely 25 to 26 years old when he prepared his series of history textbooks. "

Monday, December 30, 2024

Googling history

Vahe H Apelian

First and foremost, let me quote the following to justify my use of the verb google. According to Wikipedia, I quote, “the word "google" became a verb in 1998, when Google co-founder Larry Page used it in a mailing list message. The verb was popularized in 2002 when it was used on the TV show Buffy the Vampire Slayer. The term was officially added to the Oxford English Dictionary in 2006 and the Merriam-Webster Collegiate Dictionary in the same year.”

Googling history is surely an acceptable way of searching the history of a nation, especially that this year, 2024, is marked by the controversy over the designation of the Armenian history whether to call it “History of Armenia, Hayastani Badmoutyun” or “Armenian History – Hayots Badmoutyun”. The PM Nikol Pashinyan’s preference is the former, not the latter.

The issue was not a passing one. Prof. Ara Sanjian entertained it. He is an Associate Professor of History and the Director of the Armenian Research Center at the University of Michigan-Dearborn. So did Dikran Jinbashian, who several years ago retired as the principal of the famed Nshan Palanjian Djemaran whose principal's seat has been occupied by luminaries such as Levon Shant, Simon Vratsian, Hratch Dasnabedian. Dikran Jinbashian acted as the principal after an active life-long dedication to Armenian causes.

Google is the primary internet search engine I use as well. Driven by the controversy, I wondered whether it is American History or History of the United States of America. Thus I googled American History and to my surprise I was directed to the “History of United States” with the following notation: “American History” redirects here (i.e. “History of the United States”). For the history of the continents, see History of Americas.)

I wondered, how about searching the history of other nations.

When I googled for French history, I was directed to "History of France". When I googled for German history, I was directed to the “History of Germany”. Similarly googling Syrian history led me to “History of Syria”, Lebanese history led me to “History of Lebanon”, Russian history led me to “History of Russia". Googling for European history led me to "History of Europe". But when I googled for Kurdish history, Google directed me to the “History of Kurds.” I imagine because the Kurds, unlike Armenians, do not have a state of their won.

The message the global search behemoth sent is unambiguous. The history of a nation is the history of its state, unless that nation is stateless, such as the Kurds.

But it seems vocabulary has also evolved. When I googled Hayots Badmoutyun in Armenian letters, there came History of Armenia - see the posting above - that “covers the topics related to history of the Republic of Armenia, as well as the Armenian people, the Armenian language, and the regions of Eurasia historically and geograhically considered Armenian. Wikipedia”. Googling Armenian history directed me as well to "History of Armenia".

Let me state that I was brought up with Hayots Badmoutyoun – Հայոց Պատմութիւն - Armenian History. Well beyond having Simon Simonian’s Hayots Badmoutyun as a textbook, I was fascinated by it during my childhood years as a source, not only of mere history, but a source of pride. In fact Simon Simonian’s Hayots Badmoutyun is geared to instill in the formative minds of the young Armenian students, a pride in the Armenian experience.

To each its own. I believe teaching the history of Armenia is very appropriate as a subject for the students in Armenia and as well as its citizens. Diaspora naturally is outside the State of Armenia. The term Armenian history may serve Diaspora better.

In any event whether Armenian history should be taught as Hayots Badmoutyun, or it should be thought as History of Armenia is an academic matter. But and regrettably, it becomes ever so more evident to me that no matter what, the Armenian divisive political undertone, if not the entrenched mindset, will creep in brandishing a “holier than thou” attitude, advocating a term over the other for political expendiency .

Simon Simonian Hayots Badmoutyoun textbook
Fifth Grade

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