Krikor Zohrab (Memories and Impressions) Part 1/5

By Matheos Eblghatian

Translated by Vahe H. Apelian
Edited by Jack Chelebian, M.D.

June 26 (1861) marks the birthday of one of the most colorful personalities in modern Armenian history, Krikor Zohrab. He was an enigneer who studied and became a prominent lawyer, politician and writer. He was endearingly called the “Prince of the Armenian (short) Novel”  (Նորապէպի իշխան). Matheos Eblighatian,  a lawyer himself, had remained from his youth fascinated by the larger than life Krikor Zohrab, and devoted  a whole section of his memoir (A Life in the Life of My Nation – Կեանք մը Ազգիս Կեանքին Մէջ) to  Krikor Zohrab  claiming to write “ what I know, have seen or been told I have been able to verify”. Matheos Eblgihatians memories of Krikor Zohrab make for a fascinating reading about the man. I have attached in five parts my translation of the segment, which was edited by Jack Chelebian M.D.  Krikor Zohrab was martyred in 1915.

 

"I wanted to study law at the university. Therefore, I had to go to Istanbul because, at that time, the branch in Konia had not opened.

In those days, the Turkish Armenians were living their darkest days. Hamid’s government had forbidden the Armenians to travel from one province to another without permission. Going to Istanbul was almost impossible. I had attempted twice and in both instances, I had permission from Izmir’s all-powerful governor Kamil Pasha. However, in both instances, I was sent back. I succeeded in my third attempt, in 1903.

Even after arriving in Istanbul, remaining there had become exceedingly difficult, especially during the celebrations of Hamid’s birthday and enthronement. The Red Sultan’s secret police were checking all the hotels and all the houses that rented out rooms, looking for Armenian migrants from the interior of the country and were sending them back.

As an Armenian law student, naturally I was interested in the lives of Armenian judges and lawyers. Goes without saying, Krikor Zohrab was the most brilliant representative of the latter. Since my course load consisted of two or three periods per day, I had the afternoons free to look for a job to get by financially and at the same time to gain experience by working in a law office. Naturally, I tried my luck first with Krikor Zohrab’s office.

A high-ranking judge, who was my sponsor and also an old family friend, gave me a reference. When I presented myself to Krikor Zohrab’s office I saw two young men, Arshag and Armenag, working in the reception area. I waited there until Krikor Zohrab became available to see me, I entered his office and presented my reference to him.

At that time Krikor Zohrab was a handsome mature man in his 40’s with round face, mid-height, and had piercing eyes. In this harmonious whole, the only exception was his voice, which was cracked and unpleasant.

He took my reference and read it carefully and asked me a few questions and said – “give my regards to the Effendi. I will see him later”.

In fact, the next day, he had explained to my sponsor that being a student, I would be distracted with my studies in the office and naturally would not be able to concentrate on my office work to be of much assistance to him. Likewise, he would not want me to leave my studies, as many students would do, to make a living. Naturally, his response saddened me and I got sadder as I started getting used to life in Istanbul. I devoted my free time dabbling in literature and started writing under the pen names Norayr Bared or simply Bared.  In time my adulation of Krikor Zohrab bordered on reverence.

During that time Zohrab was at the pinnacle of his career. He did not have time anymore to continue writing. He had long ceased publishing “Massis” with his literary friend H. Asadour. I, on the other hand, while contributing to Z. Yousefian’s “Arevelk” and Dikran Arpiarian’s “Massis” literary journals, had come to appreciate Zohrab the core, both as an author and as a lawyer and jurist. He was a lighthouse for me. Emulating the status he had attained, both socially and professionally, became my greatest wish. My interest in him knew no bound.

On all occasions, with whoever I might be in contact, be it a lawyer, a judge, or an author, I would direct the course of my conversation in such a way that it would include Krikor Zohrab’s life, whether personal or public. The person told me the most about Krikor Zohrab was my sponsor who was the general prosecutor of Pera. The next person was H. Asadour, whom I often met in M. Asasian’s law office.  Editors, officials in the Patriarchate, casual conversations in the court hallways, all became avenues for me to gather information about Krikor Zohrab.

A different life, different atmosphere, and different perspectives took over in 1908, at the dawn of the Constitution. The cowed, silenced life of the Hamidian’s regime era ended. Everyone’s life became much like an open book. Our ideas and aspirations crystallized were transparent while our eternal enemy stealthily penetrated our core – our thoughts and instincts waiting for the opportune time to strike. Years went by and Krikor Zohrab was martyred.  

One day, during 1919-1920, when I was the general director of the National Relief organization, in a steamship going from Boyukada to Istanbul, I was reading philologist A. Alboyajian book about Krikor Zohrab.  That book, along with the rest of my library remained behind in Istanbul. Others also wrote their memories and impressions of him. All these publications will one day serve as a primary source for anyone who might be interested in studying the life and contribution of Krikor Zohrab and the rest of our luminaries who shared his fate. I believe that there will be writers who will write about them and will offer the fruits of their research as a monument in the pantheon, which as yet does not exist in a material sense.

It is to this end that I pen my memories and impressions. I do not have in mind Krikor Zohrab solely as a writer, nor as a lawyer or as a politician. I will write only what I know, have seen or been told I have been able to verify."

THE 1913 WINTER IN VAN

Matheos Eblighatian

Translated: Vahe H. Apelian
Edited: Jack Chelebian, M.D.

In 1913 Matheos Eblighatian was appointed as the prosecutor general in Van. No Armenian in the Ottoman Empire had occupied such a high judicial position before, at least not in Van. Interestingly he regarded his assignment as a service in the fatherland, that to say Armenia. After a long journey starting on May 15 through Constantinople Batumi, Tiflisi Yerevan, Igdir, he arrived to Van on July 12. In his memoir (A Life in the Life of My Nation – Կեանք մը Ազգիս Կեանքին Մէջ) he narrated his first winter in Van, alluding to them as “long nights in Armenia”. Attached is my translation of that segment.

"The winter that year was harsher than usual. The snow, I was told, was more abundant that winter. Sometime in early November, I woke up to a blanket of snow. The snowflakes were piling on each other.

From our house in Aykestan, which was close to Khach Street, to my office in the center of the city, took three-quarter of an hour to cross on foot. It was impossible to travel by cart because of the snow. The snow sleighs were not ready yet. Consequently, with 8 to 10 Armenian lawyers and employees, we set foot walking. By the time we arrived to the court some nine centimeters of snow had piled on our shoulders. Fortunately, although the building was old, the floors were carpeted and the furnaces were red hot. I was accustomed to snow. I had experienced snow blizzard in the outskirt of Istanbul, where I lived. But the situation in Van was completely different.

As the days went by, the snow fell with abundance and settled. Until the beginning of spring, we had between one to one and a half meter snow accumulations. On both sides of the streets, a narrow passage would always be formed and on the larger avenues, the sleighs did the same. The greatest unease was the realization that we were besieged and imprisoned of sorts. There was an overwhelming whiteness all over. For short travels, it did not affect adversely, but after traveling for hours, the never ending snow white pierced the eye and people would end up suffering from pain for long periods of time. Of course, the snow had also its appeal. The city would look marvelous in the moonlight.

The nights were long. There were no occasions left for murder to have me bothered at any moment of the day. Therefore we spent every evening visiting colleagues. Most of them were not from Van. At times we also visited few local colleagues. In these situations, the women would stay in a separate room leaving the males alone. The people were used visiting each other during these long nights in Armenia. Telling stories and jokes were the orders of the day. My colleagues respected my abstinence (from alcohol) and they would not drink.  Usually, after dinner, we would take a walk outside.

The situation was altogether different when the governor and high placed officials got together. After drinking all night long, they would eat close to midnight. The governor had initiated these invitations. The rest took a turn to do the same.

Among the Armenians, Terzibashian initiated inviting us, followed by Tutunjian. The Party (i.e. ARF) invited the governor and his entourage in Ishkhan’s house. The second invitation was in honor of the Armenian lawyers. In the preliminary court, there were two Armenian judges and an assistant judge. With me, there were four lawyers. There were two other Armenian judges in the investigation tribunal. Thus, there were six Armenian lawyers in Van in those days. Along with the host, Aram (Manougian) was also present, who enlivened the evening. Along with us, there was a senior guest who was a Russian Armenian architect. He was a quiet man who spoke seldom and looked more studying us.

Needless to say Ishkhan and Aram did their best to entertain as well. Since it was a purely Armenian gathering, the Armenian issue and the everlasting call for the sanctity of life, honor, and property would follow after each salutation speech. Finally, the Russian Armenian guest spoke and said that he was very pleased to see that the present Armenian government officials did not resemble the ones Raffi had described in his novels. It was true. Not only us, as newly appointed government officials in the era of the constitution, but most of the Armenian government officials preceding us, thought and acted as an Armenian as much as each could.

Among the Armenian government officials, there were those who pursued their national aspiration had thus left their offices. Unfortunately, the period of the constitution did not last long and the people did not get to know the state of the Armenian government officials and hence being “Turk’s official”, generally elicited contempt. I elaborated on this point when I was given the concluding speech and I explained at length to the Russian Armenian guest the current relationship between the Armenian officials and the government.

Imagine my astonishment when years later on my way to America on an ocean liner, while passing through Istanbul, I visited Hovhannes Katchaznouni. I found out that the Russian Armenian architect we had as a guest that day, was he. He was accused in a lawsuit in Petersburg against the Tashnagtsoutiun. He had come to Istanbul evading the trial and had found refuge in Ishkhan’s house. Later on, I met him again in Istanbul and in Roumania and later in Athens the day before his departure to Armenia."

Memorial Day: Camp Lutherlyn, Camp Haiastan, and “Pumpkin Suni”

Remembering David on Memorial Day

Vahe H. Apelian

Reproduced from Armenian Weekly (2001 ?).

BUTTLER, PA:  Driving our children to the annual AYF Junior Seminar in Camp Lutherlyn became an annual ritual in our family since we moved to Cincinnati in 1995. Camp Lutherlyn is located in Prospect, Pennsylvania, 325 miles or so from us. There is no AYF chapter in Cincinnati, which is why we took upon ourselves to drive our sons to the camp.

This was the last time that David, our youngest son would attend the seminar as a junior participant. He was placed in the grown-ups cabin, a situation that made us realize that a phase in our lives has now come to its end.  Butler, the town next to Prospect, had become our Memorial Day weekend gateway. My wife and I rummaged the local antique shops and the flea markets or fairs and enjoyed Pennsylvania outdoors as our children attended the seminar these past six years.

Most parents have not visited Camp Lutherlyn and for good reason. The AYF chapters bus the children there, covering a distance which is not meant for the faint-hearted or for those who have not set their minds for making the long journey a memorable experience. Ours was no different. During the past years, we accumulated our share of experiences of missed exits, wrong routes, memorable lunch stops and familiar landmarks.

But none of these will ever come close to the way I related to the camp and to our son's experience there. It was on our way there, on the highlands of Pennsylvania, some five seminars back. It was to be David’s second attendance. I asked him if he remembers anything from the educational from the previous seminar. He said he remembered well what “Pumpkin” Suni and his friends did for the Armenian cause. David’s slip of toque was agonizingly evident and yet conspicuously innocent and it took me to my youthful days. Born in America and now growing up in the Mid-West, toque twists of Armenian names or wrong connotation, is the least I would have been concerned.  I was sure that in time, he would learn the correct pronunciation of the name that had fired the imagination of countless children and youth, including mine.

My father enrolled me in the Papken Suni Badanegan (Youth) Mioutyun (Association) when I was David’s age. We held our meeting on Saturday afternoons in the old building of the Beirut Gomideh. At least once a year we held the same debate over whether Papken Suni and his friends served the Armenian cause by their deed, or whether it was a reckless act. We knew the outcome of the debate and few us ever volunteered to be in the team that negated the act. But at times we did since someone had to.

And now Papken Suni’s name had acquired a new twist with my American born son who was growing up trick or treating the neighbors on Halloween day with their overgrown pumpkins. But the spirit of the act had now caught his imagination too. The passage of the legacy of sorts had indeed taken place.

For three days, during the long Memorial Day Weekend, Camp Lutherlyn becomes the microcosm of the best the Armenian community offers to its children. Arriving from different states of the East Coast, the kids get together to renew their friendship and relate to the past year’s camp experiences as if it had happened only yesterday. Soon they realize what was meant to be only yesterday is in fact 365 days old now. Nature has taken its course and they are now a year older. For all those parents who are not there to see, we bear witness of the joy of their children seeing each other and for being together for one more time and the all too evident sadness at the departure time after three memorable days. And yes, sadly, we will miss that too. Come next year we will not be there anymore.

For the past six years, we witnessed the dedicated work of the AYFers who organize the annual Junior Seminar. It’s a huge undertaking and is well organized by the AYF Seniors or Alumni who are now shouldering their own personal responsibilities. These dedicated young men and women devoted countless hours to make the Junior Seminar a memorable event for the few hundred kids who attend.

David is an AYF member-at-large and attends the seminar independently. However, right upon our arrival, he fits with the crowd. By now we know what to do. After we pull our car on the campground and see David saluting and hugging his fellow campers of past years, we head towards the main station and give David’s name. The attendant pulls a file bearing his name. In that file, we find the program, the layout of the camp, his assigned cabin and the names of the kids who will be with him in the cabin. A similar file is prepared for each and every camper.

Each cabin is given the name of a memorable ARFer. This year David’s cabin was called Mikaelian. The next cabin was named after Palabegh Garabed, the next one over, the inevitable Papken Suni. Along with the names, a brief biography of the person with a picture is also posted on the door of the cabin. On this Memorial Days weekend, past ARFers who also sacrificed, at times with their lives, are also remembered.  Each cabin has one or two councilors. Along with the educational, the dances, the three evenings in the cabins, the long drive to and from the camp, constitute the bulk of the experience for that year.

In August David will attend Camp Haiastan for the last time as a camper. Daniel, our elder son, is now a former camper, counselor, and lifeguard at Camp Haisastan. David may follow in his footsteps and may opt to become a councilor too in the future. However, their time as an impressionable youth has now come to pass.

On behalf of our family, I would like to thank all those who organized these seminars and the experiences both at Camp Lutherlyn and at Camp Haiastan. Unknowingly maybe, they opened a window for our children in ways that we, as parents, would not have been able to do by ourselves. And for all those who made these experiences possible and memorable for our sons, we remain ever grateful.

In Armenia

Matheos Eblighatian

Translated by Vahe H. Apelian

In 1913 Matheos Eblighatian was appointed as the prosecutor general in Van. No Armenian had occupied such a high judicial position before, at least not in Van. Interestingly he regarded his assignment as a service in the fatherland, that to say Armenia. After a long journey starting on May 15 through Constantinople Batumi, Tiflisi Yerevan, Igdir, he arrived to Van on July 12. In his memoir (A Life in the Life of My Nation – Կեանք մը Ազգիս Կեանքին Մէջ) he narrated his first impressions under a header he titled “In Armenia”. Attached is my translation of that segment.

 In Armenia

From my young age, as a student and as an employee, I was accustomed to changing my place of residence and my environment but this was something altogether different. I was in Armenia and Van was one of the more significant places of the fatherland. Much effort was being vested to safeguard the fatherland and the Armenians. Tashnag, Ramgavar and Hnchag party members and their followers worked freely in Van.

After losing the Balkans, the Ittihadis had clung firmly to the remaining. Much like during the Hamidian regime, now also they worked to entice some Kurdish tribes and control other Kurdish tribes like puppets. I was interested in the governor of Van since my days in the European Turkey and in Constantinople. I knew that he was a young man who had gained experience during the Macedonian Revolution and was a pragmatist and industrious as well. Right after meeting with my director and the rest of my colleagues, I visited the Governor Tahsin Bey. My first impression confirmed what I had envisioned. He was not much educated but undoubtedly he was an intelligent man. There was an emphasis for friendship and sincerity with which he masked his cunningness. After our customary polite conversation, he immediately brought to my attention the following:

::

“At night, should you hear gunshots, do not be alarmed. This city has a reputation as a less than a civilized place. Everyone fires his pistol from his house’s courtyard. Do not think that something has happened and that they will be coming to you as the general prosecutor and ask you to investigate. People simply fire to have fun. I ordered the police to be vigilant and capture those who do not heed my command to cease firing. You also lend a helping towards this goal.”

I replied:

“Of course, within the law, I am ready to bring my unreserved assistance to the efforts the administration has taken and will undertake.”

I left him wondering why is he putting such an undue attention to a routine police matter. It did not take long for me to find out that the cunning person he was with his simple request he, in fact, was addressing the most vital issue of the government.  Truly, that very evening, not long after dusk, gunshots were heard from different places when a young Armenian judge was with me. Both of us were to reside in the Hussian’s house. The landlord had also arrived to welcome us. Both of them explained to me at length the reason for the gunshots.

After the announcement of the Constitution, the people had not stopped arming themselves. They were also learning to be good shots. Most of the people were busy working during the day consequently did not have the time nor the resources for being trained. Consequently, they were learning how to shoot in the orchards at night. That is why the Governor was feeling uneasy hearing these gunshots. They did not only disturb the tranquility for resting at night, but also were vivid reminders that the Armenians were buying guns and were learning how to use them.

The next day there came to the unending visits for welcoming me.

I already had a few years of experience for such visits. What was new for me here was the Armenian life and especially the characteristics of the visitors themselves. There were some among them who presented themselves as the agha (upper) class of the community and felt that they should establish amicable relations with the authorities. There were a few who wanted to establish an avenue for keeping abreast of the day’s events. There were some who were genuinely happy. They regarded my appointment as the general prosecutor as a sign for better relations between the governement and the Armenian community. There were some neigh-sayers (like patriarch Arsharouni) who regarded this arrangement as an act of deceit. 

In any event, during my first 8-10 days, I realized that I was in a very difficult situation. First and foremost I was a man of the law and was in a position to interpret the laws according to my mental and moral disposition.  It was not possible always to harmonize the legal dimension with moral disposition. Most of the Ottoman laws were translated from French.  A lot of lapses would happen in their interpretation and implimentation. With regard to political issues, it was well understood that their legal interpretations were subject to the judge’s race. However just would have been an ethnic judge’s interpretation, he could not convince the Turkish judge of the defendant’s just cause when he resisted the government’s unjustifable treatment of him or of his ethnic compatriots. Therefore when someone acted against the law, the judge (ethnic) felt that he should impose a penalty without taking into consideration the mitigating circumstances. There was also the impossible issue of passing an unrestrainted judgement without taking into consideration the defendant’s religion or race. Consequently, the penalties coming forth from the implementation of the same laws could vary greatly from person to person. I emphasized unrestrained because in general in all countries more or less, and especially in Turkey, one of the greatest impedement for the judges, especially with issues pertaining to politics, was the interference of the state, at times amounting to intimidation. But what could I do? Should I resign? Or should I face these challenges until let go?

It had always been my dream to work in Armenian land and within the Armenian world. I did not want to lose the opportunity and become a deserter. But I decided to be cautious and resort to a larger array of means to live up to my dreams.

The more interesting visitors I had were the Turkish notables. It was more than a curiosity for them to have an Armenian prosecutor general. How were they to sue Armenians henceforth? There were talks that the reformations promised to give Armenians some rights they did not have before. An Armenian prosecutor general was the very evidence of such talks. Some of these Turkish notables wanted to abide by the realities of the day and live and let live. Many of them were very curteous to me, or they may have been faking. There were some, however, who could not restrain their intolerance. There remained for me to be cordial towards all and be cautious in my own conduct, to study and understand each and in time understand all the elements that constituted my surrounding.

The Agony of an Abduction

Vahe H. Apelian

Next to prematurely losing a family member, the worst possible thing is not knowing if the person is still alive or dead. If alive, where is or is being held? If dead, how did he die? Was it a peaceful death or a tortured one? Where are his remains buried?  I do not think that a day could possibly go by without the surviving family members not contemplating the fate of their lost family member/s. The late Kevork George Apelian likened the anguished state akin to being “Martyred For Life” and so titled his book about survivors of the genocide who lost a family member during the ordeal and lived the remainder of their lives wondering what happened to them.

It is not far-fetched to imagine that Sarkis Zeitlian’s family lives the agony of his abduction and obscure fate every God's given day.

Recently I came across a book in my library I had already read, titled “THE SARKIS ZEITLIAN CASE”, in Armenian «ՍԱՐԳԻՍ ԶԷՅԹԼԵԱՆԻ ԴԱՏԸ». “Hraztan Sarkis Zeitlian Publications” published the bilingual book in 1994. My copy was the book’s second and expanded edition. “The publication was sponsored by the Strategic Research Initiative of the GALIAN FOUNCATION, Inc., a non-profit Public Benefit Corporations for the study of Armenian and Multicultural Issues.”

I do not think there is any need to introduce Sarkis Zeitlian other than glimpsing over his personal life. He was born in 1930 in the village of Khader-Beg on the slopes of the famed Moussa Dagh. In 1957 he married the noted author Sona Simonian who was his colleague in Kaloustian School in Cairo. They are blessed with four children. Their son Hraztan is an acclaimed architect. Their daughter Heghnar Zeitlian Watenpaugh is an art professor at University of California and is an award winning author.

Sarkis Zeitlian was abducted on Thursday, March 28, 1985, in broad daylight, at 9:30 am.  The abduction took place “on the street adjacent of Nshan Palanjian Jemaran in West Beirut. Accompanying Sarkis Zeitlian was a member of the ARF Youth Organization, Garo Kolanjian. As he did every Thursday, Sarkis Zeitlian was on his way to the office of Hamazkayin Vahe Setian Publicatishing House located at the corner to the Jemaran to supervise the layout of Aztag Shaptoriag-Troshag (note: ARF Organ) and to have the weekly ready for production by Yervant Nonofarian, the manager of the printing operations”.

I spent most of my teen years in the very neighborhood where the abduction took place. It was heavily populated by Armenians at one time. The Armenian inhabitants started leaving the neighborhood and moving away to the mostly Christian inhabited East Beirut because of the raging Lebanese Civil war. Sourp Nshan Cathedral, Nshan Palanjian Jemaran, Souren Khanamirian and Hovagimian-Manougian High Schools, the Demirjian Middle School, along with HMEM sports center, Hamazkayin Vahe Setian Publishing House, Aztag daily, Ara Yerevanian Community Center,  were all there within an easy walking distance to each other in the  greater Zokak-El-Blat - the one time famed neighborhood of Beirut. In spite of the dwindling Armenian population ARF for a long haul continued to retain its centers there as a testament of its support for an undivided Beirut as an invisible border was splintering the capital city into a West and an East Beirut. Presently not much has left of the thriving Armenian community that resided there once.

“THE SARKIS ZEITLIAN CASE”, is a 130 pages long book. The first part is in Armenian, the second in English. The book is a meticulous study of Sarkis Zeitlians abduction. It consists of six chapters and each chapter contains a number of subsections and each sub-section, in turn, contains, at times, a number of headers. Listing the chapters gives a glimpse of the scope of the study the family has undertaken to come to grips with his abduction. The six chapters are:

I.   THE POLITICAL ASSESSMENT OF SARKIS ZEITLIAN’S ABDUCTION.

II.             THE ABDUCTION OF SARKIS ZEITLIAN

III.            THE INVESTIGATION OF THE SARKIS ZEITLIAN CASE

IV.  THE DISINFORMATION CAMPAIGN AND THE EVIDENCE REFUTING THE DISINFORMATION.

V.            CURRENT STATE OF SAKIS ZEITLIAN’S CASE

VI.          CONCLUSION.

The book is a serious study of Sarkis Zeitlian’s abduction. It also is a reflection of the agony the family experienced loosing the patriarch of the family in such a way. The copy I have is personalized by Mrs. Sona Zeitlian and is dated 1997.  Over three decades have elapsed since his abduction. Had nature been kind to him, Sarkis Zeitlian would have been in the twilight of his later years. During my days as a member of the ARF Zavarian Student Association, Sarkis Zeitlian was a favorite ideologue of the ARF and a much liked orator we did not want to miss hearing him speak on stage.

Kevork George Apelian’s, in his book “Martyred For Life”, wrote that  in spite of the passing years, when wrinkled covered the faces and gray hair    took over the surviving family members but they continued to retain in their memories the image of their loved ones as they saw him or her last. Sarkis Zeitlian was abducted and disappeared in the murky realities of realpolitik at the age of fifty-five. I imagine that it would be impossible for the family members to erase from their memories the image of the robust and dynamic man he was when he was taken away from their midst years ago.

The book ends quoting Jean-Paul Kaufman, who was a former hostage in Lebanon who was released in 1988. Jean-Paul Kaufman has said: “until we have unequivocal evidence that a hostage is dead, we shall conclude that he might still be alive”. I am not sure if passing years will alleviate Zeitlian Family from the pain of losing their patriarch whose fate continues to remain unknown.

We have a saying in Armenian, “May God spare even our enemies from such pain”.

The Events that Changed the Course of the Armenian Diaspora

Vahe H. Apelian

If I were to point to the date and the event that fundamentally altered the course of the Armenian Diaspora, it would be April 13, 1975.  This past April Friday thirteen brought back memories of  that event that also ended up changing the course of my life. As to the event, it is the deadly encounter on that Sunday, April 13, 1975, between the armed members of the Lebanese Phalange (Katael) party and Palestinians.

 On that fateful gorgeous Sunday afternoon, I was returning from Anjar, the Armenian inhabited village of former Moussa Daghtsis. I was held in traffic as I approached Beirut. I asked an armed civilian who was directing the traffic what was the problem? He said that there was a military clash between the armed members of the Phalange (Kataeb) Party and Palestinians. The details of that deadly encounter appear to remain murky to this day. That day and that that incident is generally accepted as the beginning of the Lebanese Civil war as a result of which, a year later, on July 9, 1976, I set foot in the NY Kennedy Airport as another immigrant.

In a few weeks, the Lebanese will elect the members of their parliament. The first and the only election I participated in Lebanon was the one that took place in the latter part of April 1972. The Lebanese Parliament then was carefully crafted and comprised of 55 Christian and 44 Muslim members with each of the two religious denominations having its share based on its demographic constituency. The Armenian Orthodox community was allocated four seats, the Armenian Catholic Community one seat and the Evangelical community one seat. Traditionally the candidate for the Armenian Catholic and Evangelical seats was reserved to the Phalange Party. During that election, the dominant Armenian political party (A.R.F.) was able to secure the candidacy of the first Armenian Evangelical, Antranig Manougian, M.D.

The A.R.F. had adopted a cherished tradition of appointing only one party member and reserving the other three seats to prominent individuals who reprepresent the other segments of the greater Lebanese Armenian Community. Melkon Eblighatian. M.D. represented the A.R.F. and acted as the representative of the Armenian Parliamentarian bloc. The other three were Souren Khanamirian, the prominent philanthropist who represented the Armenian business community; Khachig Babigian, the prominent lawyer who represented the Catholicoate of Cilicia and Ara Yerevanian, the consul of Gabon, businessman, and philanthropist, represented the non-A.R.F. fraction.

 

Standing LtoR: Tsolag Tutelian, Hovsep Seferian, Antranig Manougian, MD, Souren Khanamirian, Melkon Eblighatian MD, Sako Karkodorian, Arpi (Baghdassarian) Shahinina, Garo Sassouni, Mary (Bakalian) Arevian, Khatchig Babigian.  LtoR: ? Hovsepian 9/), ?, Yetvart Eloyan, ?, Hourig Panian, Vahe H. Apelian, ?, Zvart Sarhadian.

Sometimes in the later part of 1974, Dr. Melkon Eblighatian presented to the A.R.F. Zavarian Student Association his experiences as a parliamentarian. He had succeeded Movses Der Kaloustian who was the longstanding member of Lebanese Parliament. Dr. Eblighatian gave much tribute to his predecessor noting that the greatest challenge he faced was being accepted as the one who will be filling Der Kaloustian’s vacant seat. Among the wheeling and dealing Lebanese descendants of the merchandizing Phoenicians, Movses Der Kaloustian had stood apart with his unblemished impeccable conduct through the many years he served as a parliamentarian.

The second part of Dr. Eblighatian’s lecture constituted analyzing the political situation in Lebanon. A heightened political mood prevailed in the country. He concluded his lecture saying, I quote verbatim, “hot days await us during the upcoming spring”. The ensuing turn of events, starting with the “bus incident” on April 14, 1975, proved that he was prophetic indeed.

Sometime in early 1980’s Dr Melkon Eblighatian visited New Jersey where his son Norayr lived with his family. I interviewed him and recorded it. Norayr and I then transcribed the interview. I wrote an introduction and presented it to “Hairenik” Daily where both my interview and introduction were presented on the front page.  My contention in my introductory remarks was that the Lebanese civil war had far more destructive ramifications to the Diaspora Armenians than to the rest.

March 2011 is usually regarded the time that sparked the current civil war in Syria. One year and a few months later, in November 2012, the Syrian Armenians in Aleppo convened under the auspices of Archbishop Shahan Sarkissian to prepare the community brave the ongoing civil war. See the following link: http://vhapelian.blogspot.com/2018/04/aleppo-armenians-convene.html

I cite these to two examples to make a point. Often times we, as Armenians, criticize ourselves that we historically lack political foresight. I do not believe it to be necessarily so. In both of these cases, the Armenian leadership anticipated the upcoming and alerted the community and undertook measures to face the upcoming turmoil. But I doubt that if anyone could have possibly anticipated the level of ensuing destruction.

The civil wars in Lebanon and in Syria fundamentally changed the course of the Armenian Diaspora. These two communities remain the best hopes for the preservation of the Western Armenian culture in spite of the fact that are debilitatingly wounded. My late father used to say “stallions fight and the grass gets trampled”. We were patches of Armenian Diaspora's green grass in these two countries and we were prepared to weather the storm. But forces far greater than could have been possibly foreseen overwhelmed us and continuous to linger perilously altering the course of the post-genocide Armenian Diaspora.

Haleb in its Hey Days: A Diaspora Treasure Chest.

Levon Sharoyan posted this article in segments on his Facebook page during June 2014 and titled it “Ո՞ւր Կը Կայանայ Հալէպահայ Գաղութին Արժէքը” (What Constitutes the Worth of Aleppo Armenian Community?) and wrote in the present tense. I had the article translated and posted in Keghart.com titling it “Glorious Armenian Aleppo”.  I changed the title to “Haleb in its Hey Days”, because I am reproducing the article in my blog. Much changed in the Aleppo Armenian community during the past four years. I retained the verb tense but opted to use the term Armenians use for Aleppo, Haleb. Abridged and translated by Vahe H. Apelian

 

Armenia and the Diaspora for decades perceived the post-genocide Armenian Aleppo as an isolated, self-contained and traditional community. It did not have the luster and the flamboyance of the Paris, Los Angeles and Beirut Armenian communities. The latter regarded Aleppo a backward village. For consolation, Aleppo had been crowned the “Mother Diaspora Community”. We were happy with the designation.

The unprecedented turn of events in the last three years due to the Syrian Civil War and especially the deliberate destruction of Kessab and of the Aleppo Armenian neighborhood of Nor Kyugh, focused the attention of the Diaspora on the “Mother Diaspora Community”, the “Dreamy Haleb”. Armenians began lamenting the possible loss of the community. Armenian Diaspora was mobilized to save its Haleb community and to safeguard its values, but alas …" after breakage”.

What were the characteristics of this community that the Diaspora is intent on safeguarding? It is one of life’s unmistakable order
s to appreciate the value of something after its loss. But let us, for a moment, ponder about the values of the Haleb community. What were its characteristics? What did the Haleb Armenian community offer that the others do not as well? I will present a cursory listing of these characteristics and let readers do the critical and in-depth evaluation. 

1.  Community’s religious and church life.

Haleb hosts eleven Christian denominations, among them the three mainstream Armenian denominations: Apostolic, Catholic, and Evangelical. Each denomination is organized and active. The religious and church lives of the Haleb Armenian community has always been exemplary. The Holy Forty Martyrs Church of the Armenian Apostolic denomination dates more than five hundred years. Our churches have always been filled to capacity on Sundays and on holidays. Should you ever have attended the early mass during the holidays you would have remained mesmerized by our all-volunteer large choirs. I would like to emphasize the "volunteer” designation because in Europe and in the United States even the scribes (դպիրներ) are paid. Weddings and baptisms had to be booked months in advance because there were so many them. I insist that the Haleb Armenian community’s rich and traditional church life may have come second only to Istanbul’s. We had a very rich church life here. No wonder that the seminarians in Antelias liked to come to Aleppo to perform mass. No other Armenian community could possibly have matched the regal reception the community extended to the visiting catholicos during his pontifical visit.

2. The Organizational Structure of the Community.

The organizational structure of the Aleppo Armenian community has passed on from one generation to the next unchanged for almost 150 years. It is based on the fundamental tenants of the Armenian National Constitution adopted in Istanbul in 1863. Accordingly, the Armenian Apostolic Church National Prelacy is the official body that represents the Armenian community to the government and is its nerve center and trigger. The prelate, in addition to being the spiritual head of the community, acts as its temporal leader and thus shoulders dual responsibilities. This is a unique form of representation that has been inherited from the Ottoman days. It has advantages because it centralizes the administration of the community and its dealing as well as it establishes bilateral relations with the government. If you were to look carefully at the administration of the National Prelacy of Aleppo you would find that it is a veritable government within a government. It's interesting to note that at one time Sultan Abdul Hamid II suspended the Armenian National Constitution for this very same reason... that it acted much like a government within a government. 


The legislative body of the National Prelacy is the National Representative Assembly. As the name indicates, the community elects its members. This body appoints and oversees executive boards in matters of education and administration of schools under its jurisdiction, religious education, judicial, financial, social services, real estate holdings and others. The effectiveness by which the Haleb community is governed can stir the envy of not only the other Armenian communities but also local Christian and Muslim communities: Compare the functioning of the Armenian community of Aleppo with those in North America, Latin America, France, Britain and Australia... and you will find that the Aleppo Armenian community is more effectively organized and administered.

The National Prelacy is the backbone of the community. 
Our elders speak of a time when the community was even more vibrant. I remember reading an interesting article by Antranig Dzarougian in his “Nayiri” weekly where he reminisced, as a young reporter in '40s, about attending the open-door deliberations of the National Representative Assembly where opposing viewpoints would converge to a middle ground and form a consensus on how to run the community.

With the passing decades, much water has flown under the proverbial bridge. The picture nowadays may not be the same but the organizational structure of the Armenian community in Aleppo is one of its distinguishing characteristics and is worth preserving and emulating. 

 




3. Our Unmatched Schools

Can Haleb breathe, let alone survive, without its schools? Such a scenario is impossible to imagine. Haleb loses its glitter without its schools and its vivifying graduates. We would not be mistaken in stating that the Armenian schools are the Aleppo community’s very lungs.
 Without them, we would suffocate. And what glorious schools we have: the Karen Yeppe Armenian College (Քարէն Եփփէ Ազգ. Ճեմարան), the historical Haigazian (Հայկազեան) and Sahagian (Սահակեան) schools, the more recently built Gulbenkian (Կիւլպէնկեան) and Grtasirats High School (Կրթասիրաց-Չէմպէրճեան) school, the A.G.B.U. Lazar Nadjarian-Calouste Gulbenkian Armenian Central High School (Լազար Նաճարեան), the Cilician (Giligian) (Կիլիկեան) Armenian High School, the Mekhatarian (Մխիթարեան) school and others.

For Haleb Armenians, their homely and lovely community life is best illustrated through the unfolding of the academic year. We witness the buses of the Armenian schools, each bearing in large Armenian characters the name of the school, crisscross the city from one neighborhood to next, traversing the thoroughfares of the city collecting the students to bring them to school.

Throughout that season I remain overwhelmed by a burst of emotions at the scene. 
Our schools are much like beehives, where every morning bees enter and work diligently to produce honey. The Haleb honey is just that, authentic and unadulterated. We have always shared our honey generously with our blood relatives overseas. Our honey is sufficient for all. Diaspora communities, big or small, have their schools, in Istanbul, Beirut, Tehran, Cairo, Athens, Marseilles, Paris, Los Angeles, Montreal, Sydney, and Buenos Aires. I will muster the courage and state that the Armenian schools in these cities cannot possibly compete with ours in imparting to their students an Armenian education. Can you possibly name an Armenian Diaspora high school that can equal the Karen Yeppe Jemaran? Could you point to any other Armenian Diaspora high school that had the same pre-Civil War enrollment of 1,400 students we had at the A.G.B.U. Nazarian-Gulbenkain Central High School?

Speaking Armenian in schools, however, changed these days, is still predominant among our students even out of school.  
Some may claim that the Education Ministry of Syria has curtailed the number of classes in the Armenian language. 
In my modest opinion, that allegation is not devoid of lapses in judgment. The Armenian language and literature have always maintained their rightful place in the overcrowded curriculum of our schools. These subjects are properly taught with much care. We have some schools that have voluntarily abrogated the educational privileges granted to them and have curtailed the number of such classes or have completely eliminated some. It would be unproductive to dwell on this phenomenon now.

The raging destructive war in Syria is testing the Armenian schools in ways they have not been tested before. Their very existence is at stake, especially due to the economic collapse. The situation is alarming and its consequences dire. It is vital to assist the Haleb Armenian schools financially so that they, as the beehives of the community, continue to produce honey.

4. An Armenian Diaspora Treasure Chest.

Let us take a rapid trip through the Armenian neighborhoods of Aleppo and visit our social clubs. We will find the names of these clubs in a bilingual inscription at their entrances: Aram Manougian People’s Home, A.G.B.U. Tekeyan Cultural Association, Kermanig-Vasbouragan Cultural Association, Ourfa Compatriotic Cultural Association, and tens of others such associations and social clubs.

All of these associations have extended an open arm to embrace our Armenian compatriots who, having graduated from the local Armenian schools, come to socialize under their roofs to maintain their umbilical cord with their nation. The denominational affiliation and the political partisan leaning of the person do not matter, neither do the types of interest a person has for there is an Armenian association and a social club for the person.

Do you like to sing? Then come and join the Hamzakayin’s “Zvartnots” choir.

Do you have acting talents? Then A.G.B.U.’s “Atamian” theatrical group or “Zavarian” will be welcoming you.

Are you interested in dancing? There are two to three dance groups for you.

Is your interest to serve the Armenian literature? Then you may join the Syrian-Armenian Writers’ group monthly meetings.

Are you interested in or do you want to hone your skills in painting or photography? You may join “Arshile Gorky” or “Sarian” art academies.

Are you athletic? Knock H.M.E.M’s door and it will be open for you.

Are you a scout or do you like to bring your child as one? You have the options of having your children to tough it out with excursions and camps organized by H.M.M’s or H.M.E.M’s athletic clubs.

Do you want to contribute to the current youth movements? Syrian Youth Association and Dkhrouny clubs are there for you. 

Are you interested in preserving your grandparents’ heritage? Among many, you have the option to join, Marash, Kilis, Dikranagerd, Zeytoun, Daron, Ourfa compatriotic organizations.

Are you interested to render social services? The Syrian Armenian Relief Organization might be the place for you.

Haleb Armenians often have to choose from the many concurrently ongoing events. All these events take place in splendid social halls that we, as a community own, the likes of which other local organizations do not have. Our halls get filled to capacity.

In a city of 4-million residents, we as Armenians, present a unique communal picture. The non-Armenian communities with whom we co-habit have not been able to build what we have built and hence do not have the means to offer to their community what we can. That is why Haleb has become the ideal community to preserve the Armenian heritage where an Armenian is born as one and is interred as one.

No wonder the Haleb communal life stirred the imagination of the eminent writer  Dzarougian who penned his recollection in “Dreamy Haleb”. The newly appointed director of the AMAA (Armenian Missionary Association of America) Zaven Khanjian was born and raised in Haleb. He also penned his memoirs in the recent "Aleppo, First Station" about growing up in the city. Undoubtedly, the Aleppo Armenian community is the “Little Armenia” of the Diaspora, even though it has not been named so in an official capacity.

Indeed, the Armenian Diaspora has all the reasons to be alarmed by the ongoing war in Syria whose consequences may be disastrous to the once-thriving Armenian community of Aleppo and by extension to the beehive it was that provided bees and honey to the other Diaspora communities.