V.H.Apelian Blog
Reflections and musings at eighty.
V.H. Apelian's Blog
Monday, September 14, 2026
The Armenian Islamic Tribe in Syria
We have a score to settle.
To settle a score means to take revenge on someone or to punish them for a past wrong, injury, or insult. (Dictionary.cambridge.org.)
“We have a score to settle. The best way to exact that retribution is to build a prosperous country right under the Turk’s nose—a nation that is morally strong and cleansed of filth and squalor—so that Armenians, rather than emigrating, will want to return to their homeland.
If this mindset takes hold among us and becomes a unified will, we will have exacted our retribution—at least in part... Independence is an absolute value for every nation; it is not open to negotiation. One must not speak against independence or statehood, nor argue about independence—it is shameful...
In literature, and in life generally, I hold to one principle: to love the homeland exactly as it is. One must love the homeland—love it with eyes wide open."
Link: Perch Zeytuntsyan (Armenian: Պերճ Արմենակի Զեյթունցյան; July 18, 1938 – August 21, 2017), was an Armenian playwright and screenwriter who served as the Minister of Culture of Armenia from 1990 to 1991 https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Perch_Zeytuntsyan
Բնագիրը՝
«Մենք վրեժ ունենք լուծելու: Վրեժի լավագույն ճանապարհը բարեկեցիկ երկիր կառուցելն է թուրքի քթի տակ` բարոյապես ուժեղ, կեղտից ու աղբից մաքրված, որպեսզի հայը ոչ թե արտագաղթի, այլ ուզենա հայրենիք վերադառնալ:
Եթե այս գիտակցությունը գերիշխի մեզանում, դառնա միասնական կամք, մենք մեր վրեժը լուծած կլինենք գոնե մասամբ… անկախությունը բացարձակ արժեք է յուրաքանչյուր ազգի համար, սակարկության ենթակա չէ, չի կարելի անկախությանը, պետականությանը դեմ խոսել, վիճել անկախության շուրջ, ամոթ է…։
Գրականության մեջ և կյանքում առհասարակ ես ունեմ մի սկզբունք՝ սիրել հայրենիքն այնպես, ինչպես այն կա: Հայրենիքը պետք է սիրել, սիրել բաց աչքերով»։
Sunday, September 13, 2026
AI's take on Armenia's likelihood of winning the Second Artsakh War
Vaհe H Apelian
Much has been written about the Second Artsakh War, the 44-Day war Armenia regrettably lost. Much also will be written.
Today I read two comments in the Armenian Weekly about the Second Artsakh War. I quoted the comments below withholding the commentators’ names. I also linked what Turkish media actually said during and after the war, as reported by Levon Sharoyan.
The two comments in the Weekly were the following:
First comment: “We did not lose the Artsakh war, Artsakh was essentially left on its own to defend itself, still held its own despite being outnumbered and outgunned, and finally given away by Pashoglu for a few billion dollars.”
Second comment: “Artsakh was betrayed and thrown under the bus by Pashinyan. Period. The loss of Artsakh was not inevitable and it was absolutely avoidable.”
I wondered what would AI say about Armenia’s likelihood winning the Second Artsakh War.
This is how AI responded.
Armenia's likelihood of winning the Second Nagorno-Karabakh War in 2020 was low from a strategic standpoint, given the severe asymmetry in military technology, economic resources, and geopolitical backing.
[1] (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Second_Nagorno-Karabakh_War),
[2] (https://www.aljazeera.com/news/2020/12/22/nagorno-karabakh-how-did-azerbaijan-triumph-over-armenia),
[3] (https://www.iiss.org/online-analysis/online-analysis/2021/03/lessons-of-nagorno-karabakh/)Strategic
Technological and Strategic Gaps
Drones:
Azerbaijan deployed sophisticated, Israeli- and Turkish-manufactured Unmanned Aerial Vehicles (UAVs)—such as Bayraktar TB2 drones—which systematically dismantled Armenian air defense systems, armor, and artillery.
[1] (https://www.iiss.org/online-analysis/online-analysis/2021/03/lessons-of-nagorno-karabakh/),
[2] (https://atlasinstitute.org/how-armenia-lost-the-fortress-region-during-the-second-karabakh-war/),
Obsolete doctrine:
The Armenian and Artsakh military command relied on static trench-warfare strategies left over from the 1990s, making troops highly vulnerable to aerial reconnaissance and precision strikes.
[1] (https://atlasinstitute.org/how-armenia-lost-the-fortress-region-during-the-second-karabakh-war/),
[2](https://www.aljazeera.com/news/2020/12/22/nagorno-karabakh-how-did-azerbaijan-triumph-over-armenia)
Alliances:
Azerbaijan received crucial military, intelligence, and political backing from Turkey, while Armenia's regional allies did not intervene directly in the conflict.
[1] (https://www.aljazeera.com/news/2020/12/22/nagorno-karabakh-how-did-azerbaijan-triumph-over-armenia)
Lack of Foreign Support:
Azerbaijan received robust military, intelligence, and political backing from Turkey, whereas Armenia fought largely isolated without equivalent external intervention.
[2] (https://www.iiss.org/online-analysis/online-analysis/2021/03/lessons-of-nagorno-karabakh/)
Economic Disparity:
Azerbaijan’s oil-funded state budget allowed it to sustain and decisively outspend resource-poor Armenia in a prolonged or high-intensity technological conflict.
[1] (https://www.aljazeera.com/news/2020/12/22/nagorno-karabakh-how-did-azerbaijan-triumph-over-armenia)
[1] (https://atlasinstitute.org/how-armenia-lost-the-fortress-region-during-the-second-karabakh-war/),
[2](https://www.aljazeera.com/news/2020/12/22/nagorno-karabakh-how-did-azerbaijan-triumph-over-armenia)
Communication Breakdown:
Severe targeting of communication lines led to a complete failure of command and control, preventing field officers from effectively reacting to Azerbaijani advances.
[1] (https://atlasinstitute.org/how-armenia-lost-the-fortress-region-during-the-second-karabakh-war/)
Ultimately, these combined economic, tactical, and technological imbalances made an Armenian victory unlikely, culminating in a Russian-brokered ceasefire that amounted to a decisive defeat.
[1](https://www.armyupress.army.mil/Journals/Military-Review/Online-Exclusive/2021-OLE/Erickson/)
The following are the links to what Turkish media said, during the war and at the conclusion of the war.
Link: Turkish media during the war: https://vhapelian.blogspot.com/2020/10/what-does-turkish-media-say.html
Link: Turkish media after the war: https://vhapelian.blogspot.com/2021/05/let-me-ease-you-pain-dear-artsakh.html
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| ChatGPT generated. I added the black framing |
Saturday, September 12, 2026
Հայրենիքը պետք է սիրել, սիրել բաց աչքերով
«Մենք վրեժ ունենք լուծելու: Վրեժի լավագույն ճանապարհը բարեկեցիկ երկիր կառուցելն է թուրքի քթի տակ` բարոյապես ուժեղ, կեղտից ու աղբից մաքրված, որպեսզի հայը ոչ թե արտագաղթի, այլ ուզենա հայրենիք վերադառնալ:
Եթե այս գիտակցությունը գերիշխի մեզանում, դառնա միասնական կամք, մենք մեր վրեժը լուծած կլինենք գոնե մասամբ… անկախությունը բացարձակ արժեք է յուրաքանչյուր ազգի համար, սակարկության ենթակա չէ, չի կարելի անկախությանը, պետականությանը դեմ խոսել, վիճել անկախության շուրջ, ամոթ է…։
Գրականության մեջ և կյանքում առհասարակ ես ունեմ մի սկզբունք՝ սիրել հայրենիքն այնպես, ինչպես այն կա: Հայրենիքը պետք է սիրել, սիրել բաց աչքերով»։
***
To settle a score means to take revenge on someone or to punish them for a past wrong, injury, or insult. (Dictionary.cambridge.org.)
“We have a score to settle. The best way to exact that retribution is to build a prosperous country right under the Turk’s nose—a nation that is morally strong and cleansed of filth and squalor—so that Armenians, rather than emigrating, will want to return to their homeland.
If this mindset takes hold among us and becomes a unified will, we will have exacted our retribution—at least in part... Independence is an absolute value for every nation; it is not open to negotiation. One must not speak against independence or statehood, nor argue about independence—it is shameful...
In literature, and in life generally, I hold to one principle: to love the homeland exactly as it is. One must love the homeland—love it with eyes wide open."
Link: Perch Zeytuntsyan (Armenian: Պերճ Արմենակի Զեյթունցյան; July 18, 1938 – August 21, 2017), was an Armenian playwright and screenwriter who served as the Minister of Culture of Armenia from 1990 to 1991 https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Perch_Zeytuntsyan
.”
"One must love the homeland—love it with eyes wide open."
To settle a score means to take revenge on someone or to punish them for a past wrong, injury, or insult. (Dictionary.cambridge.org.)
“We have a score to settle. The best way to exact that retribution is to build a prosperous country right under the Turk’s nose—a nation that is morally strong and cleansed of filth and squalor—so that Armenians, rather than emigrating, will want to return to their homeland.
If this mindset takes hold among us and becomes a unified will, we will have exacted our retribution—at least in part... Independence is an absolute value for every nation; it is not open to negotiation. One must not speak against independence or statehood, nor argue about independence—it is shameful...
In literature, and in life generally, I hold to one principle: to love the homeland exactly as it is. One must love the homeland—love it with eyes wide open."
Link: Perch Zeytuntsyan (Armenian: Պերճ Արմենակի Զեյթունցյան; July 18, 1938 – August 21, 2017), was an Armenian playwright and screenwriter who served as the Minister of Culture of Armenia from 1990 to 1991 https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Perch_Zeytuntsyan
Բնագիրը՝
«Մենք վրեժ ունենք լուծելու: Վրեժի լավագույն ճանապարհը բարեկեցիկ երկիր կառուցելն է թուրքի քթի տակ` բարոյապես ուժեղ, կեղտից ու աղբից մաքրված, որպեսզի հայը ոչ թե արտագաղթի, այլ ուզենա հայրենիք վերադառնալ:
Եթե այս գիտակցությունը գերիշխի մեզանում, դառնա միասնական կամք, մենք մեր վրեժը լուծած կլինենք գոնե մասամբ… անկախությունը բացարձակ արժեք է յուրաքանչյուր ազգի համար, սակարկության ենթակա չէ, չի կարելի անկախությանը, պետականությանը դեմ խոսել, վիճել անկախության շուրջ, ամոթ է…։
Գրականության մեջ և կյանքում առհասարակ ես ունեմ մի սկզբունք՝ սիրել հայրենիքն այնպես, ինչպես այն կա: Հայրենիքը պետք է սիրել, սիրել բաց աչքերով»։
Friday, September 11, 2026
Lebanon’s Kleptocracy: From Water to Waste
All those who are not from Lebanon and may not personally relate to Lebanon, should read this having their own society in mind. Attached is my aided translation of Aharon Shekerdemian latest post on his Facebook page. He has written the piece with a pungent humor underlying a serious social break down to the detriment of the citizens, but not all of them. There is a lesson to be learned here. No society is immune from breaking apart, be it United States of America or Armenia. Vaհe H Apelian
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| First row: Aharon Shekerdemian Seond raw: Private water vendor, accumulated waste in Beirut. |
Citizens in Lebanon have long since learned to expect a miracle.
They turn on the tap, hoping for water.
They flip the switch, longing for light.
Yet, every time, instead of a miracle, they are presented with a bill.
They step out onto the street, dreaming of a clean environment. But piles of garbage and a foul stench have already arrived to greet them.
They enter the market, expecting to find at least a few with "affordable" prices. But prices are so high that they look first at the product, then at their pocket, wondering: is it worth buying the item, or should I save my money?
It seems the state has specialized in the art of sending bills to its citizens. The service might be delayed, diminished, vanished entirely, or exist only on paper, yet the bill miraculously finds its way.
Water is one of the most common examples of this state "genius."
Every year, the citizen pays millions of Lebanese pounds in water fees to the state—to the very institution responsible for delivering water to their household tap. The citizen turns the tap and hears... silence. There is no water, yet the bill is always there.
Meanwhile, the private water tanker roaming the streets arrives right on time.
What an astonishing country!
State-supplied water has lost its way, whereas the merchant's water knows everyone's address by heart. The water vendor secures water in summer and winter, during droughts and heatwaves, and amidst crises—often even on days when the entire neighborhood is scrambling for a single drop of state-supplied water. Naturally, one begins to wonder if Lebanon’s water holds dual citizenship: for the state, it is always scarce, yet for the merchant, it is surprisingly abundant.
Citizens end up paying twice for the same right: first to the state, and then to the private supplier.
Selling the same service twice stands as one of the crowning achievements of economic innovation within the Lebanese system.
The electricity situation offers an even more refined example. Two types of electricity exist in Lebanon: the state-supplied kind, which is absent for hours on end, and the private kind, which—miraculously—never fails, provided you are willing to pay the price for its availability. Here, too, the issue is not the power outage itself, but rather who will pay the price for its absence.
The state grants the citizen electricity for only a few hours a day. It is as if electricity were being sold by the hour. When the state-supplied power returns, a near-festive atmosphere fills the home.
"It’s here!"
A Lebanese person knows exactly what that single phrase means.
The power is back. The water is back.
The return of things that, in a normally functioning state, would have no need to "arrive" in the first place.
During the remaining hours, the generator owner takes the stage. He has built a little empire—with his own rules, his own rate schedule, his own billing system, and, most importantly, his own clientele. If he decides to do so one day, he can raise the rates, bill for extra hours, or find some new pretext to lighten the citizen's wallet. This little "authority" operates with such self-assurance that the state institution is reduced to the role of a mere, humble observer in its presence. The citizen pays every month. The price goes up—they pay. The tariff changes—they pay. The explanation is incomprehensible—they pay again.
Yet, a subtle but crucial question arises here—a question the state seems to have chosen to ignore for years. If vehicle owners must secure fuel daily from these "providers of light," why does the state tolerate its own neglected duty becoming a source of profit for others?
"Ali Baba's caves" are operating within the electricity system... That is the reality.
Principles may illuminate speeches, but they cannot light up a dark room. Electricity has become an extraordinary luxury in Lebanon, whereas in the twenty-first century, it is a standard utility for most of the world.
Then there is the issue of waste.
Many countries value waste as a profitable raw material—for recycling, energy generation, new production, and economic value.
In Lebanon, however, waste long ago acquired a different kind of value.
Political value. Waste remains waste, yet the funds circulating around it find very "clean" paths into certain pockets.
Our country’s most "efficient" recycling program is the conversion of public funds into private wealth.
The culture of corruption has been so perfected through years of experience that graft itself has evolved into a disciplined system—where everything has its proper order, scale, and price.
The consumer market, too, is dominated by unbridled excess.
A product has one price in one shop and a different one in the shop next door; the same product might appear with a third price tomorrow. Thus, a product in the market has a price, and that price follows its own rules.
State oversight often announces its presence through press releases, as if to say, "Just so you know, I’m still alive..."
Officials make statements, investigative committees convene, ministries issue warnings, and television crews film the scene... Yet, the market continues on its course with its usual indifference to all of this.
Lebanon has turned into an economic fiefdom where every political faction and community has established its own monopoly. I can state without hesitation that the Lebanese-Armenian community has remained apart from this system.
One group controls the water supply; another, electricity; a third, waste management. The fourth gets the monopoly on economic agreements. The fifth, state positions. The sixth, control over customs or administrative checkpoints.
As for the citizen’s share—it is to pay.
This entire system operates on a feudal logic: everyone gets their share, while the citizen is left with the obligation to pay.
The state has long since turned into a vast table around which community and political bigwigs sit enthroned in their own seats. Each of them, ensconced behind the banner of their community, defends their share, places their own people, expands their sphere of influence, and frames the portion of public wealth they have appropriated as a communal right.
Plunder very often cloaks itself in the guise of communal dignity.
When a position within a public institution becomes a bone of contention, when state authority is transformed into a means of rewarding "loyalists," and when the law operates at different speeds before the courts, corruption becomes the state's "spoiled child."
Therein lies our true tragedy.
Corruption has become an inseparable part of our daily lives in Lebanon.
The citizen understands the system. He complains in the coffeehouse. He curses in front of the television. He posts on social media. He recounts who embezzled what, who got rich and how... Yet, on election day, he returns to the fold of his "big boss." A human tragedy: the feudal system has permeated the citizen's psyche. A serf's mentality.
The feudal lord intoxicates his followers with empty promises.
The citizen receives the rights due to him as if they were a personal favor.
The bandit bestowing this "favor" transforms into a benefactor, a leader, a savior...
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| Homelessness and poverty in the United States of America |
This is the feudal system's most ingenious ploy: first, weaken state institutions; then, give the citizen what they should naturally have received from the state, while demanding political loyalty in return...
For this reason, people do not turn to state institutions to claim their rights. They seek out the minister, the MP, the party official, the community leader, or the influential intermediary...
The state retreats, while the so-called "patron-intermediary" grows stronger.
Is the public debt rising? A new tax.
Is the treasury empty? A new tax.
Has a service failed? A hike in rates.
Let the citizen pay.
And with this same logic, they still urge the citizen on, claiming that patriotism demands sacrifice.
It certainly does.
But it would be interesting to demand sacrifice from those, too, who for decades have turned Lebanon into a source of dividends for themselves.
Lebanon is experiencing a genuine economic and social disaster. Citizens are losing faith in the state. Yet, the graver loss is the erosion of the very concept of the state. Society is operating under a feudal mindset.
Lebanon is a country endowed with natural wealth. At the same time, it is a state that has been plundered and impoverished. A vast gulf exists between these two realities... Lebanon possesses human capital, universities, specialists, businesspeople, a Diaspora, a strategic geographic location, and cultural and economic potential.
Yet, when the state’s cauldron is carved up by political-sectarian ladles, even the wealthiest of nations ends up with an empty vessel.
The most bitter question is this: how long must the citizen pay for water without receiving water, for electricity without receiving electricity, and for public services without receiving their due?
Will the day come when the Lebanese people take their anger beyond café tables and transform it into a demand for change?
In the meantime, the taps will continue to dispense air; the power lines, darkness; the landfills, a foul stench; and the political stages, empty promises.
Only one thing will remain abundant, relentless, and unwavering:
The bill...
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| Waste in Yerevan |
Thursday, September 10, 2026
Armenian Schools Wobbling pillars
At the commencement of another academic year, another Armenian school closed in Lebanon, bringing the total number of schools in Lebanon to 15. Today Vera Yacoubian wrote an article in Aztag Daily noting that “today the question is no longer just how to keep Armenian schools open, but what kind of Armenian school do we want to have in the future?”. The attached is an article I wrote in keghart.com on August 24, 2013, about Armenian schools that do not necessarily close in spite of ourselves but also because of our evolving perceptions of Diaspora Armenian Schools. Vaհe H Apelian
Armenian schools, one of the pillars of the trinity that sustain the Armenian Diaspora, is wobbling, using Keghart.com’s recent editorial headline. Seismic events not only wobbled pillars but have also toppled them.
The Armenian Diaspora has experienced seismic tremors in the last few decades, mostly due to the unfolding of violent political events in the Middle East–the cradle of Armenian Diaspora–and due to the global economic recession. We have no control over these events. The best we can do is to adjust.
Pillars wobble, if not topple, because the ground on which they were entrenched ceases to be the solid support it was once. The analogy refers to our evolving perception of Armenian schools.
Two fundamental issues have always surfaced regarding an Armenian parents’ rightful concern about Armenian schools in North America or in the Middle East. The two concerns are the education their children would receive and the ease with which their children would be able to communicate in the greater society they live in. The latter being not only the mastery of the larger society’s language but also its conveyance, that is to say, accent. A few years ago, the late Kevork George Apelian, who was an educator, author, pointed out to me that the more affluent Armenian parents in Lebanon were sending their children to non-Armenian schools in Lebanon for this very reason.
Solid education and accent are valid concerns. Let's put them in perspective.
A few years ago, I attended an annual conference which had to do with my specialization–pharmaceutics. It was attended by people from all over the world. To warm up his audience for a dry subject he was about to deliver, one of the lecturers asked: "What is the language of science?" He then answered it: "In the United States it's English spoken with an accent”. How true. In this interdependent world, it’s also Hindi, Mandarin or Arabic spoken with an accent as well. Those who have heard Vartan Gregorian have surely noted that he spoke with an accent. But that did not prevent him from reaching the uppermost echelon of the American mainstream society. No one really cares much about your accent as long as you offer what your interlocutor needs to forge a win-win relationship with you–be it personal or impersonal.
Capable teachers have transmitted solid education since antiquity in structurally much more modest environments and without the gadgetry modern schools enjoy. Computers are the outcome of such basic education and will never be able to replace it. Armenian schools historically have done well in imparting sold basic education to generations of students. Noubar Afeyan, Ardem Patapoutian are shinning examples. I have yet to hear an Armenian friend or an acquaintance tell me, in hindsight, that he or she wished their parents had sent them to a non-Armenian school to better prepare them for life. On the contrary, the overwhelming majority of former students in Armenian schools I have met, fondly remember their times there. There is a reason for it and it has to do with EQ– Emotional Quotient of the former students.
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| Sourp Nshan Graduating Class, 1962 |
EQ is a measurement of a person's ability to monitor his or her emotions, to cope with pressures and demands, and to control his or her thoughts and actions. Most educators agree that EQ is as important as IQ (Intelligence Quotient). There was a time when what students learned in a classroom stayed with them unchanged for a long time. Not anymore. Education is also learning to constantly learn new things. A student has to be emotionally well adjusted and prepared to surmount this ceaseless onslaught of newer things. Along with imparting solid and basic education, Armenian schools have been very successful in preparing their students to score higher in their EQ. Most of the students I knew in my formative years, while attending Armenian schools in Lebanon, have done well. In fact, very well whether they attended college or not.
I do not want to paint a picture of an all-too-perfect Armenian school. I simply want to elaborate on the issues of accent and of basic education so that parents would have a broader perspective should they be considering to enroll their children in an Armenian school. Historically, Armenian schools have not failed us. On the contrary, they have successfully equipped their former students with basic knowledge and social anchor to venture out and become productive citizens.












