Aram Manougian in Van

Aram Manougian in Van

By Mattheos Eblighatian

Translated by Vahe H. Apelian

Edited by Jack Chelebian, M.D.

This segment is from Mattheos Eblighatian’s book titled, “A Life in the Life of My Nation”. His sons Melkon, M.D. and Krikor, Attorney at Law, have edited the book  (1987). The chapter is titled “Aram Manougian”. In 1913 Mattheos Eblighatian was appointed prosecutor general in Van. The community leaders in Istanbul had told him that only Aram and Ishkhan are authorized to contact him in Van with caution.

“Before reaching a resolution of the case, one evening, around 10:30 pm, I was busy studying the dossier when the maid informed me that a visitor by name of Manougian wanted to see me.

At the beginning, the name did not ring a bell. When I looked at the maid quizzically, she said – “It’s Aram Pasha”.

Of course, with much interest, I welcomed the man whose activities in Van constituted the crux of the people’s daily conversations.

He was a bit taller than mid-height, with a thick mustache; broad-shouldered, and looked between 30 to 40 years of age. He was the exact opposite of Ishkhan. From the very first sight, he left a good impression. From the beginning, our conversation took such a turn as if we had known each other for many years.

Alluding to the assassination of the dentist, he noted:

“You left us in an awkward situation. Fortunately a week ago I received a letter from Zartarian, which was a relief. We like people who are cautious, but you took it a bit to an extreme by not keeping any contact with us - and noted smiling – that such an extreme disassociation could have had unpleasant consequences. Zartarian, at your urging also advises us to be cautious. I was waiting for the past few nights for you to be alone for an opportune time to visit you”.

-                “How did you find out that I was alone?’ I asked lightheartedly.

-                “From the maid”, he answered.

Of course, it had not occurred to me until that day, that in my house, I lived under the surveillance of the Tashnagsoutium (Armenian Revolutionary Federation).

It was well past midnight when Aram departed. In those two hours, he amply elaborated on the situation in the countryside and naturally dwelt upon issues that had to do with the judiciary. “Presently the pressing issue – he said – is the retaliation for the assassination of the teacher Raphael. The organization has dealt severely with the perpetrators. A few persons have been apprehended because of it”. Naturally, I promised to study their case.  He also elaborated to a great extent on their mutual relations with the governor. Both sides had established good relations with each other and were keen on keeping the relations on track.

I was extremely appreciative of this candid conversation with Aram because it was important for me to know as how to proceed under certain circumstances. We came to an understanding of my future relations with them. I was to deal only with Aram and Ishkhan and those seeking my assistance should contact me only through either one of them.

And it became that way to the very end. Issues that had to do with the judiciary would be addressed to me by Aram and often in my office. This was not something that would raise any concern for anyone. Aram had free access from the governor’s office to every other official’s. Everyone’s issues would land squarely on his lap. In the market, there would always be a crowd around him. Most of them were villagers whose issues it would become Aram’s to resolve. Let it not surprise anyone when I note that I first heard these things from the governor himself, who visited me a few evenings every month. In close circles, the governor would lavish much praise on Aram’s legendary austerity. He would tell me that the majority of the salary Aram received from the educational department of the Akhtamar region; he spent preparing the pleas the villagers addressed to the government. There would be days when he absolutely had no money is his pocket. There also would be days when he would not have had any food, being so engrossed in his myriad tasks that he would not have the time to think about food.

Indeed, I also ascertained later that at times he did not seem to know whether he was hungry or not. He liked to drink tea without sugar. At times he would place a cube of sugar in his mouth and drink tea that way. When he happened to be in the court at lunchtime we would have something to eat together. I realized that he had lost the habit of having lunch with regularity. That would become more obvious to me when he would have his lunch with me in the evenings. He had a sociable, lively, and a cheerful temperament. But when it came to national issues, Aram’s demeanor would completely change; he would speak forcefully and at times roar like a lion.

As I said earlier, Aram and the Governor cultivated an amicable relationship and both wanted to keep it that way. But there were instances when that relationship would cool down, even got strained, because of disagreements about general or specific issues. The most important issue of contention between the two had to do with the Kurds.  Much can be said about the Armenian-Turkish, Armenian-Kurdish, and Turkish-Kurdish relations. Discussing them would take us far and beyond. Suffice to note a few words to shed light on the issues mentioned here.

It is well known that three nations cohabit on our native land, Armenians, Kurds, and Turks. In spite of the fact that the latter was the newcomer and a minority, the Turks had become the ruler of the land and had established themselves firmly. In the beginning, the demography was not what it is presently. But from the very beginning, the Turks had strived to make the Turks the majority in any area. The Turks, who did not discriminate in the means to achieve their goal, had initially acted with total impunity. Massive massacres, displacements, forced Islamization (i.e. Turkification), devshirme, that is to say rounding up four to five years old Christian boys and raising them as Islamized Janissaries and resorting to administrative gerrymandering so that the Turks would become the majority in any province. For example, geographically Hadjin and Zeitoun were not far from each other but each was in a different administrative area, with one being incorporated in the province of Adana while the other in Aleppo. In the same manner, the Armenian inhabited Van was tied to the Kurdish Hakkari and both were incorporated in the province of Van.

The basic policy of the Turks was “divide to rule”.

The situation with the Kurds was different. The government did not move against them with the same zeal. Foremost, the Kurds were Muslims. Consequently, they were spared from the calamities that befell upon the Armenian, and thus, over time, had grown in number. The government was unable to subjugate the multiparous and multifarious Kurds, and hence was obliged to treat them differently although the aim remained the same, that is to say, to curtail their number. First, the government encouraged mixed marriages. By marrying a Turkish woman, a Kurd would become cultured and be part of the dominant race. The government opened a lot of opportunities for them and would allow them to exploit and usurp Armenian owned properties and labor without restraint. The second option was creating divisions among the different Kurdish tribes and alternatively siding with one against the other. Thirdly, by incorporating them in the hamidiye (cavalry), where the Kurdish forces were smothened with kindness. These were exercised for so long that they had become second nature to the Turkish officials. It should be noted that the Turkish officials benefited greatly from such treatment.

After the proclamation of the constitution, the situation undeniably changed. For the Kurds, subjugating the Armenian with impunity became much more difficult although not impossible. Kurds lost some of the ill-gotten gains they had, and the Turks’ influence was diminished. The Armenians gained some freedom to maneuver and out of necessity took matters into their own hands to respond to the daily realities they faced.

It also became clear that the Kurdish menace did not have final and un-remediable consequences. Ishkhan would explain as follows. During the Hamidian period, the Armenian villagers hardly survived living hand to mouth existence and did not have an extra loaf of bread to offer to the hungry Armenian freedom fighters – fedayees – roaming on the mountains. During the few years of the Constitution, when the Armenian villagers could at the very least harvest what they planted, their misery had noticeably diminished and life had become much more tolerable. Of course, there were a lot of land disputes remaining from the Hamidian period that needed resolution. There was the issue of security that was paramount with the Armenian leadership.  That is to say how to curtail the massacres of the yesteryears when the Turkish government continued to encourage the Kurds and at times even joined them with arms to punish the “traitor Armenian infidels”.

The Armenians naturally did not want the Kurds to remain instruments in the hands of the Turks to be used against them. The Turks on the other hand, having their long-term goals in mind, always looked for ways and means to pit the Kurds against the Armenians. For this very reason, the Governor persecuted fiercely unruly Kurdish bandits but encouraged the Kurds who attempted to subjugate the defenseless Armenians. The Turkish government aimed to make impossible fostering any amicable relationship between the Kurds and the Armenians. Thus, there were inevitable sharp differences between Aram and the Governor regarding such issues vital to the Armenians."

Who Was Mattheos Eblighatian? – Part 2.

Translated by Vahe H. Apelian

Edited by Jack Chelebian, M.D.

This translated segment is from the book titled “Mattheos Eblighatian – A Life in the Life of my Nation – Eyewitness and Participant Testimonials 1903-1923. His sons Melkon, M.D. and Krikor, Attorney at Law, edited the book, Antelias, Lebanon 1987.

Kirkagac (forty trees), located close to Izmir, was a small town whose residents, be they Armenian, Greek and Turks, were well-to-do thanks to the cultivation of common madder whose pulverized root yielded a pigment called Alizarin, which had been used since ancient times as a red dye for leather, wool, cotton, and silk. Once the chemistry of Alizarin was discovered, enabling its synthesis industrially and much cheaper than extracting it naturally; the economy of kirkagac suffered greatly. From those boom times, there remained two storied, marble-floored houses, the Mother of God church, the Naregian School for boys and the Vartouhian School for girls.

Mattheos Eblighatian was born on October 21, 1881, during the economic depression of kirkagac. He was the firstborn son of shoemaker Melkon Eblighatian and his wife Takouhi Missirlian. Thanks to his innate quest for learning and his maternal uncle Hovhannes Missirlian’s moral and financial support, the young Mattheos studied in the local Naregian School for boys and later in national schools in the province of Izmir. Subsequently, at the cost of great hardship, he managed to complete his secondary and higher education in Istanbul attaining his Doctor in Jurisprudence degree at a time of great political uncertainty and danger.

In his notes, Mattheos Eblighatian asserts that the Hamidian tyranny, without putting official obstacles, nonetheless resorted to every means to prohibit Armenians from pursuing studying of law. In the summer of 1898, in spite of such restrictions, he managed to reach Istanbul but “failed” in his law school entrance examination. During his oral examination, the professor had asked, “Are you an Armenian?” Upon hearing his affirmative answer, the examiner had told him outright “get out” marking a zero next to his name.

Distraught, Mattheos Eblighatian returned to Izmir and followed the course at Sultaniyah Turkish school, repeating his four years of secondary education and becoming fluent in Turkish.

In 1903 he tried again and in spite of travel restrictions, succeeded in reaching Istanbul and registering in the school of law. The oral examinations were canceled simply because the number of the applicants exceeded five hundred. During the written examination Mattheos Eblighatian correctly noted his registration number but next to the initial letter of his name M, he put down a made-up name to cover his real identity. In those days the Turks did not have the practice of using the family name. Taking advantage of this loophole, many Armenian students had managed to slip through the “forbidden zone”.

In reality, Mattheos Eblighatian had ranked the fourth among the five hundred and five students and finally, in his own words, had set foot in the “promised land” and after six years of study, he attained his precious law degree.

In spite of the persecutions by the bloody Hamidian regime, Mattheos Eblighatian entered the rank and file of the Armenian Revolutionary Federation and remained its faithful and active member until his death, assuming important responsibilities.

*****

Thanks to his memoir published in this book, it will be possible to follow the turn of events in his life from 1909 until the beginning of 1923, first as a judge, then as the translator for Major Hoff, the Norwegian inspector of the reformation promised for the Armenian provinces of the Ottoman Empire; then as the executive director of Armenian National Relief in Istanbul and finally the First Republic of Armenia’s Relief and Reconstruction Ministry’s representative in Istanbul, as of July 3, 1920.

To complete this period of his life, we note the following. When the Ottoman Government sided with Germany during the First World War, Mattheos Eblighatian was in Istanbul and was tasked with the nominal role of assistant to Robert Graves who was the director of the inspectors of the Armenian reform package devised by the European powers. When that office was abolished in March 1915, the Turkish Government’s planned anti-Armenian annihilation policies had already begun to be implemented. To avoid capture, Mattheos Eblighatian for months hid first in Istanbul and then in Ayden (Izmir Province) where the Armenians were as yet exempt from the deportation orders. Finally in November 1916, thanks to the intervention of a Turkish friend, he enlisted in the Turkish army under an assumed name, in his own words “to save his own skin”. He served first as a conscript and then as an officer in charge of provisions for the coastal defense regiment situated on the Big Island, Boyukada, in the Sea of Marmara.

During that period he married his compatriot, Miss Marinos (Marie) Chilingirian on October 30, 1917. They were blessed with two sons: Melkon-Norayr and Krikor-Bared.

His last office was short lived because on November 29, 1920, the Republic of Armenia became part of the Soviet Union. In spite of this, with the permission of the Allied Powers occupying Istanbul, Mattheos Eblighatian, for the next two years, ran the duties of Armenia’s Istanbul Consulate as the Director of Diaspora Affairs but practically with the authority of a general consul. A strange situation had come about because the consulate issued Armenian passports to Turkish Armenians in the name of the First Republic of Armenia that had ceased to exist. It is important however to note that all governments accepted these passports, as a result, a large number of endangered Armenians who lived under the constant dread of renewed Turkish persecution were able to find refuge abroad. As months went by, their number grew. Garo Kevorkian, who was an eyewitness to this large Armenian exodus, noted the following.

“Whoever was in Istanbul in those days surely must remember those bitter and horrible days. The successes of the Kemalist Army, the fall of Izmir, the risk of the inevitable capture of Istanbul had given way to an indescribable plight…there had come about an exodus that was growing by the day involving people of all socio-economic classes.

One could not count the crowd of Armenians lining up in front of the Republic of Armenia’s Istanbul consulate. They would wait in line for hours and days to get passports to go abroad. The Republic’s diplomatic representative Ferdinand Tahtajian, and especially Mattheos Eblighatian acting as consul, toiled for months to facilitate the exodus of thousands of applicants, who were not citizens of Armenia, by granting them Armenian passports, which were recognized by all other governments”. (Amenoun Darekirk (Everyone’s Yearbook), 1961, page 601).

But, by the order of the British authorities, the Republic of Armenia’s consulate in Istanbul was closed in December 1922, ending all its activities.

Right after the closure of the embassy, and along with many others, the Turkish police started looking for Mattheos Eblighatian. Fortunately, one day in plain daylight, on a busy street, sensing danger, he evaded capture by the police by quickly hurling himself into a passing streetcar. Finally, as a fugitive, he found refuge on an Italian ship that was on its way to Bulgaria. Coincidentally on the same ship happened to be Patriarch Zaven who was leaving Istanbul for good (December 10, 1922).

Mattheos Eblighatian eventually reached Romania’s Ploesht city where a few months earlier, he had sent his family, his mother and two brothers (Mikael and Bedros).

Romania became the first stop of his life as a refugee.

He was planning to immediately depart to Syria and settle in Sanjak of Alexandretta, having learned that Arabic and Turkish were equally used in an official capacity there. This way, there would be an opportunity for him to practice law or be appointed as a judge.

Circumstance, however, forced him to relocate to Greece instead. He stayed in Athens for the next six years instead of traveling to Syria primarily because of financial constraints. Those were years of financial insecurity and deprivation during which he accepted any job that came his way. For a while, he worked in a factory that made stockings and did minor clerical work in Greek lawyers’ offices. Like most inhabitants of Izmir, he knew Greek. Mrs. Eblighatian, in turn, sold her beloved violin. She also gave sewing and dressmaking lessons and helped alleviate the financial situation of the family. They lived in a small house next to the Armenian refugee camp.

In Athens, Mattheos Eblighatian assumed an active role in the life of both his nation and his party.  He contributed to Nor Or  (New Day) daily. He regularly penned analytical articles there.

Finally, in 1932, he managed to depart to Aleppo where he became the principal of Haigazian coed school, teaching at the same time history and ethics to the higher grades.

In 1935 he settled in Antioch where he practiced law for some time. Later he was appointed to the court of justice. He remained in that capacity until the Sanjak of Alexandretta was ceded to Turkey. During the fall of 1939, he reached the city of Latakia through Kessab. After remaining jobless for a year, by the order of the Syrian Government in 1940, he was appointed to the court of justice in Latakia, simultaneously assumed the role of district attorney for Kessab and of the nearby Qastal Maaf, a Turkmen region. Once every two weeks, he would depart to Kessab or Qastal Maaf.

In the final analysis, these positions are all secondary for someone who at the age of thirty-three was the president of Van’s court of justice. We have mentioned them simply to be comprehensive in the chronology of his life.

Nonetheless, his last court appointment may be considered symbolic.

During the Second World War, the people lived in a financially dire situation. Grain, flour, bread, sugar, coffee, soap, gasoline, fabric, and all such necessities had all gradually disappeared from the market only to appear on the black market prohibitively expensive. In spite of the government’s severe measures, the unscrupulous merchants plundered the people with impunity. In every city of Syria, the government appointed a sole judge to oversee the distribution of provisions to the people.  Some of these appointees, in turn, considerably enriched themselves. The Government, entrusting his impartiality and fairness, appointed Mattheos Eblighatian as the sole judge overseeing the distribution of vital provisions in greater Latakia. He ran the office with remarkable initiative and competence until in 1947 when he was called to retire, earning the unanimous respect of the natives.

Mattheos Eblighatian passed his remaining years in Latakia. Every spring, much like the early sparrows, he came to Kessab to the house he had there where he would stay for seven months. He had a boundless affection for that native Armenian hamlet that reminded him of his birthplace kirkagac.

He passed away on September 30, 1960, at the age of 79. His remains are interred in the Armenian national cemetery of Latakia.

Melkon and Krikor Eblighatian.

Who Was Mattheos Eblighatian? – Part 1.

Who Was Mattheos Eblighatian? – Part 1.

Translated by Vahe H. Apelian

Edited by Jack Chelebian, M.D.

This translated segment is from the book titled “Mattheos Eblighatian – A Life in the Life of my Nation – Eyewitness and Participant Testimonials 1903-1923". His sons Melkon, M.D. and Krikor, Attorney at Law, edited the book, Antelias, Lebanon 1987.

“I was born in the city kirkagac (Գըրգաղան) in Izmir province, on October 21, 1881. In 1897, I graduated from Mesrobian School of Izmir. After graduating from the public gymnasium in the same city, in 1903, I was accepted to the Constantinople Law University and in 1908 I graduated with Doctor of Jurisprudence degree.

During the Ottoman Government’s constitutional period, I was appointed as a judge first in Yeberos Yania (Եպերոսի Եանիա) and then in Aleppo. In the summer of 1913, I was appointed the general prosecutor in Van and six months later the president of that city’s Court of Justice.

In July 1914, I was appointed the translator for the Norwegian Major Hoff who was tasked with inspecting and verifying the implementation of reformations in the Armenian provinces.

On June 14, 1919, I was appointed the executive director of the newly established National Relief in Istanbul. While keeping my role in that capacity, on July 3, 1920, by the edict number 4839 of the Armenian Republic’s Relief and Reconstruction Ministry, I was appointed the same ministry’s representative in Istanbul and on July 5, 1920, with the edict number 4863 I was appointed the director of Diaspora Affairs.  Since the National Assembly resolved that the authority to appoint the Director of Diaspora Affairs would be transferred to the Ministry of Foreign Affairs; the Republic’s Relief and Reconstruction Ministry, with their September 25, 1920, edict number 6629, removed me from my post as their representative, but with September 28, 1920, edict number 5546 from the Republic’s Minister of Foreign Affairs Hamo Ohanjanian, I was posted as the temporary representative of the Republic of Armenia in Istanbul and my salary and other details were conveyed to me by representative Tahtajian.

The Republic’s Ministry of Foreign Affairs, with edict number 5548, dated 28 September 1920 to F. Tahtajian, noted that Mattheos Eblighatian is being considered for the position of General Consul and that the Ministry is awaiting his acceptance to send him the relevant official documents. During that period, it is known that the Turks and the Russians attacked our free and independent Republic. My ties with Yerevan were severed and I, remaining with the title of “Director of Diaspora Affairs”, and with the consent of the Allied Powers’ authorities in Istanbul, carried out the tasks of the newly established consulate of Armenia in Istanbul until December 1922, when by the order of the British authorities we were forced to shut down the consulate.”

Mattheos Melkon Eblighatian

*********

This handwritten biography is prepared by Mattheos Eblighatian himself and entrusted to his family a few years before his death “so that the newspapers would not publish erroneous information” about him at his death.

His writing resembles an official report much more than an autobiography. But most of those who knew him personally would attest that’s exactly the way Mattheos Eblighatian was, a lawyer in the scientific sense of the word. He was “a tall, gentleman, solemn, reticent. A man who avoided talking about himself and having others speak about him.”  (Gayz Goganian).

His Holiness Karekin II Catholicos of the Great House of Cilicia also characterized him similarly, noting:

“Whenever he came to our ancestral village (Kessab), he projected the image of a deliberate, calm and a nobleman, to the whole village, and especially to the adolescents who, like myself, viewed him with reverence and respect. We did not, nor could we at that age and in that context, know him. But whenever he walked with his cane up the hill on the narrow streets of the village or whenever we found him sitting in a public meadow with a newspaper in his hand; we thought that there was the story of our nation embedded in him and he was the paragon of healthy national consciousness and human nobility and virtue.”

 Only his family members, close relatives and a few of his bosom friends knew that the solemn and impeccably attired judge would transform whenever he returned home every day precisely at his customary time. He would remove his “outside” clothes and would put on a comfortable wear, his slippers, nightcap on his head and occupy his customary seat on his cushion next to the water-pipe Mrs. Marie Eblighatian would have prepared for him. In his home, he would turn into the cheerful, witty, optimistic ordinary man that he was at his core, who enjoyed the pleasures of life.

He had an astonishing memory and would gladly talk about his birthplace kirkagac (Գըրգաղան), and especially about Armenia, its nature, climate, notable cuisine, harvests, customs and particularly its waters and springs. But he rarely made any reference to his life and the role he played in his nation’s life.

After entreaties over many years, he finally decided to write and publish his memoirs, which appeared in the “Hairenik Monthly” in Boston in issues ranging from 1951 to 1956. His eyesight had already weakened. So, instead of writing, he was compelled to have a dear friend stay with him in his house for a year jotting down the memoirs he narrated. After the publication, he found the style of the writing not to reflect his own. He also noted errors, minor omissions, duplications, and in a few instances erroneous interpretations. Naturally, he was not pleased and felt the need to revise and correct. Without a doubt, it would have been preferable to re-edit all of it not a series but as a book. Unfortunately, the author no longer had the stamina and the time to accomplish the task.

For that reason, in this book, the reader will come across some duplications, in spite of the fact that many have been removed. The author probably made these duplications consciously to refresh the reader’s memory because the articles were published on a monthly basis over a  long period of time with some serials a year or two apart. To emphasize the link between various segments we resorted to adding subtitles.That is why we resorted to subtitles in an effort to link the articles. Finally we, as the editors, had to choose a title for the book because the components were not yet put together under a common title.

It should also be noted that Mattheos Eblighatian’s autobiography ends in December 1922, whereas he passed away thirty-seven years later. Those were daunting years of exile during which the family moved from one country or city to another five to six times. Therefore we resorted to filling some gaps before and after the ending of his biography. Unfortunately, our information is also partial and circumstantial abstracted from his notes, letters, and testimonies of relatives.  (To be continued).

ԳՐԱԴԱՐԱՆ ՄԸՆ ԱԼ ԿԸ ՓԱԿՈՒԻ

Գրադարան մըն ալ կը փակուի

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Կցեալ գրութիւնը՝ Արմենակ Եղիայեան յղած է բարեկամներու email-ի միջոցաւ։

Այս շաբաթ մտային կարիքներս գոհացնող յօդուած կարդացած չէի, ուստի խոր անբաւարարութեան զգացումով ալ  անցընելու վրայ էի օրերս: Չեմ ըսեր, անշուշտ, թէ չկար նման յօդուած, այլ պարզապէս ինծի չէր հանդիպած այդպիսին:

Բայց ահա  շաբաթավերջին,– ուր հիմա նստած կը գրեմ,– ինծի պահ մը թուեցաւ՝ ի դէմս դոկտ. ՀրանդՄարգարեանի «Բարի ճանապարհ, գիրքե՛ր, ճանապա՛րհ բարի» յօդուածին («Հայերն այսօր», 13 մարտ 2018), որ դէմ-յանդիման կը գտնուիմ այդ ինծի պակսող գրութեան:

Այս յօդուածով՝ դոկտ. Մարգարեան իրեն յատուկ  սահուն ոճով ու պայծառ շարադրանքով պատմականը կ’ընէ աւելի քան հարիւր տարի առաջ Միացեալ Նահանգներու Նիւ Եորք  քաղաքին  մէջ հայ գաղթականներու ճիգերով ծնունդ առած գրադարանի մը, որ ժամանակին հետ աճած  եւ ուռճացած է, երբեմն  ապաստան փոխած, սերունդներու հոգեկան ու մտային սնունդ ջամբած եւ հիմա ան կը գտնուի հարկադրանքին առջեւ տեղահան ըլլալու  «Նիւ Եորքի հայ կեդրոն»-էն, որուն շէնքը ծախուած է:

Միամիտ ընթերցողը  կը շարունակէ ընթերցումը այն լաւատես  ակնկալութեամբ, թէ անոնք, որոնք հարիւր տարի կրցան այդ գիրքերը պահպանել, նոր հանգրուան մը  պիտի ճարեն այդ պատմական գրադարանին, որ պիտի շարունակէ իր առաքելութիւնը այդ նոյն միջավայրին մէջ եւ նոյն թափով:

«Հայ գիրքը պէտք չէ որբանայ,– կը գրէ Մարգարեան:– Ան միշտ հոգատար ծնողի, որդեգրողի պէտք ունի: Երբ Հայ գիրքը որբանայ, ազգի մը անկումի ախտանշաններն են որ կը բացայայտուին: Որբութենէ ազատելու մտահոգութիւնը կլանած է բոլորս:  Տուն մը, վայր մը, հոգատար շունչերու որոնումը մեր մտահոգութեանց կեդրոն է: Իրենց մէջ արիւն ու քրտինք պարփակած, մարդկային միտք ու հոգի ամբարած այս «անշունչ» էակները վաղը ճամբայ պիտի ելլեն Նիւ Եորքի Հայ կեդրոնէն ՆՈՐ ՏԱՆ մը մէջ, ՆՈՐ միջավայրի մը մէջ շարունակելու իրենց առաքելութիւնը:  Նոր սերունդներ պիտի այցելեն իրենց: Նոր սերունդներ պիտի սորվին, ոգեւորուին անոնցմով: Պիտի գուրգուրան անոնց վրայ: Պիտի չթողե՛ն որ փոշիներու տակ ցեցոտին… որբանան: Անոնց պիտի այցելեն թէ՛ մատշաղ, թէ՛ հասուն սերունդները»,– կը կարդանք յօդուածի  յուսադրական ու մխիթարական դառնալ փորձող շարունակութեան մէջ:

Բայց   ահա...

Բայց ահա ի յայտ կու գայ, որ այդ գիրքերը փոխադրական 50  արկղերու մէջ կը լեցուին՝ ոչ թէ  նիւեորքեան այլ կայք մը փոխադրուելու եւ ծառայելու իր «հին  ընթերցողներուն», այլ...Արցախ ղրկուելու համար: Եւ Մարգարեան գրեթէ հրճուած է այս կարգադրութեամբ, եւ չի վարանիր վերամբարձ բառերով   արտայայտելու իր այդ հրճուանքը, քանի այդ գիրքերը այս անգամ պիտի ծառայեն արցախահայ սերունդներու հայեցի դիմագիծի պահպանութեան...:

Սակայն Արցախը յուշադրամին դիմերե՛սն է  միայն: Անդին կայ անոր դարձերե՛սն ալ:

Ինչո՞վ պիտի սնանին հոն՝ Նիւ Եորք մնացող հին սերունդները, աւելի ճիշդը անոնք, որոնք 100 տարի այս գիրքերը կարդացին, գուրգուրացին անոնց վրայ, պահեցին, պահպանեցին ու բազմացուցին զանոնք՝ փոխանցելու համար յաջորդ սերունդներուն: Չէ ՞ որ փաստօրէն այլեւս գիրք կարդացող «յաջորդ սերունդ» մը չէ մնացած եւ ճիշդ այս չգոյութեան հաւաստիքն ալ պատճառ դարձած է, որ հնամեայ գրադարանը ձեռքէ հանուի:

Այս բոլորը հազիւ թէ կարենան տեղիք տալ  երանական ողջերթի մը, ինչպէս կ’ընէ իմ վաղեմի բարեկամս, այլ կը թելադրեն տխուր վախճան մը:  Այդ առաքումը արցախահայութեան նոր ու լուսաւոր արշալոյս մը աւետելէ աւելի՝ կու գայ գուժելու  ամերիկաբնակ երբեմնի ընթերցողներուն անհետացումը,  քանի  այլեւս ընթերցող չէ մնացած կամ պիտի չմնայ այնտեղ:

Արցախը այսպէս կամ այնպէս կրնար գրենական իր բացերը ձեւով մը լրացնել, քանի, ինչպէս միշտ,  ընթերցողի պակաս չունի ան բարեբախտաբար, իսկ հոն ուր վառ  է ընթերցասիրութիւնը եւ առկայ են ընթերցողները, գիրքը նախախնամական մանանայի պէս կը տեղայ անոր երկինքէն: Մտահոգիչը  այնտեղ է, Նորաշխարհի   երբեմնի  ընթերցողներու  հայօրէն   լիցքաւորուող շարքերու մաշումը,  տարտղնումը,  բացակայութիւնը, ընդհուպ...չքացումը: Ա՛լ ոչինչ պիտի վերադարձնէ զանոնք: Աւարտած պատմութեան մը փակ էջի անդէմ վկաներն են  անոնք:

Ժամանակին հետ վարժուած էինք հանդիպելու ու կարդալու նամակներ, որոնց երիտասարդ հեղինակները կը խնդրէին սփիւռքահայ այս կամ այն թերթի տնօրէնութենէն, որ այլեւս դադրեցնէ թերթի առաքումը, քանի վախճանած է  տուեալ թերթը տան մէջ «միակ» կարդացող հայրիկը կամ մայրիկը, իսկ իրենք... չեն գիտեր հայերէն կարդալ: Եւ այդպէս կանգ կ’առնէր  Մեսրոպի մուտքը հայ տուներէ ներս: Բայց այդքանով չ’աւարտիր պատմութիւնը: Քանի մը օր ետք այդ տունէն դուրս կը դրուին նախ մէջտեղերը թափառող թերթերը, որոնք կը հանգրուանեն  մայչին վրայ կամ մօտակայ աղբանոցին մէջ, լաւագոյն պարագային՝ վերամշակումի կը յանձնուին:  Քիչ անց անոնց կը հետեւին ու նոյն ճամբաներէն կ’անցնին գիրքերն ալ, որոնց համար այլեւս տեղ չի մնար տան մէջ:

Մօտաւորապէս նոյն ճակատագիրը ունեցաւ Արտաշէս Տէր Խաչատուրեանի գրադարանը, որ Կիլիկեան աթոռի մատենադարանէն ու Հայկազեան համալսարանի գրադարանէն ետք հաւանաբար ամենաճոխն էր ամբողջ սփիւռքի մէջ: Կեանքի վերջին տարիներուն Տէր Խաչատուրեան փորձեց վաճառել զայն, սակայն չյաջողեցաւ:  Մահէն ետք, որ շատ անակնկալ պատահեցաւ, անոր ժառանգորդները փորձեցին ծախել զայն՝ Լիբանանի ծիրէն ներս, սակայն նմանապէս չյաջողեցան, եւ ի վերջոյ Լոնտոնի Բրիտանական գրադարանի հայերէնի բաժանմունքի ներկայացուցիչը գնեց անոր ամբողջութիւնը ու տարաւ Անգլիա: Ճիշդ ի՞նչ ճակատագիր կրնան ունենալ այնտեղ այդ գիրքերը, որոնք ուսուցիչի մը ամբողջ կեանքի  վաստակին,  վազքին ու զրկանքներուն արդիւնքն էին,– դժուար է գուշակել, այսուհանդերձ դժուար  է նաեւ ակնկալել, թէ այդ գիրքերը կարդալու համար հերթի սպասողներ գտնուին այնտեղ:

Քիչ մը տարբեր  ճակատագիր ունեցաւ Յակոբ Իսկենտերեանի գրադարանը, որ թէեւ նախորդին թուական ճոխութիւնը չունէր, սակայն  գիրքերուն որակով  հաւանաբար չէր զիջեր անոր կամ որեւէ այլ գրադարանի: Այդ գիրքերը կը ծածկէին  բնակարանին գրեթէ բոլոր պատերը, եւ տիրոջ անժամանակ մահէն ետք անոնք սկսան ճնշել ու հալածել   այրին՝ իբրեւ ամէնօրեայ յիշատակներ, այն աստիճան, որ  ան ի վերջոյ որոշեց ձերբազատիլ անոնցմէ: Առ այս օգնութեան հասաւ Կիւլպենկեան հիմնարկի Հայկական բաժանմունքի օրուան տնօրէնը՝ Զաւէն Եկաւեանը, որ գնեց անոնց բոլորը եւ ամփոփեց  Ժալ էլ Տիպի իր յարկաբաժնին մէջ, որ գրեթէ տարին տասներկու ամիս փակ կը մնայ, եւ ոչ մէկ ձեռք կը բանայ այդ գիրքերուն էջերը:

Նախորդ երկուքէն  աւելի  բախտաւոր  եղաւ Վահէ-Վահեանի գրադարանը, որ իր կարգին գոհար մըն էր՝ մեծագոյն ճաշակով մէկտեղուած, ուսուցիչ ու բանաստեղծ Վահեանի երկարամեայ   զոհողութուններուն գինով: Ան արդէն 82 տարեկան էր, ունէր տեսողութեան շատ բարդ հարցեր. «Աչքերս այնքա՜ն  են տկարացած, որ մեծ  դժուարութիւն կը կրեմ ընթերցումի, ակնոցիս  օժանդակ տալով նոյնիսկ  ուժեղ խոշորացոյց մը» (Նամականի, 336): Իսկ երբ գնորդին՝  Միջիկընի  հայոց լեզուի ու գրականութեան դասախաօսին  թելադրանքով կը նկարագրէ գրադարանին կազմութիւնը, «դամբանական  գրելու  հոգեվիճակով  մը՝ աչքերս սկսան թրջիլ» (անդ, 388),– կը գրէ ան: Ուրեմն այս պարագային տեղի ունեցաւ հակառակ շարժում մը. այդ ճոխ ու ընտիր գրադարանը Արեւելքէն  Միացեալ Նահանգներ գնաց՝ կայք հաստատելու համար ամերիկեան հայագիտական ամպիոնի  հովանիին տակ, սակայն ճիշդ ի՛նչ ճակատագիր ունեցաւ ան այնտեղ,  հայն ու հայագիտութիւնը որքա՞ն օգտուեցան  անկէ,– չենք գիտեր: Գիտենք միայն, որ Վահէ-Վահեան իր աչքերուն կորսնցուցած լոյսը փոխարինեց այլապէս. իր  ունեցած բոլոր գումարները ի մի բերելով հաստատեց հիմնադրամ մը, որ  կը գործէ մինչեւ այսօր ալ՝ մահէն 20 տարի ետք, տարեկան հերթականութեամբ յատկացուելով հայագիտական արժանապատիւ աշխատութեան մը հրատարակութեան:

Ահա այսպիսի խայտաբղէտ ճամբաներով  է, որ  սփիւռքահայ գրադարանները կըչէզոքանան  կամ  կ’անհետանան   մեր անզօր, երբեմն ալ անտարբեր  աչքերուն առջեւ:

  Իսկ հիմա ահա կը հաղորդուի նիւեորքեան մէկդարեայ հանրային ամբողջական  գրադարանի մը, – որ է ամբողջ գաղութի մը,– դռներուն փակումը Մեսրոպին առջեւ:

Ինչպէ՞ս չյիշել բանաստեծին ծանօթ ողբը.

«Լեզուն, որով գրեցի, երկրի երեսը քիչեր

«Կը կարդային զայն արդէն ու պակսեցան անոնք ալ...

Թեքէեան շատ դժուար օրեր անցուցած է, ճաշակած է ընդհուպ անօթութեան զրկանքը: Ժամանակակիցներ տողերս գրողին պատմած են, որ երբեմն ան անօթի կու գար «Զարթօնք»-ի խմբագրատունը՝ ապաւինելով Բարունակ Թովմասեանին, որմէ 50 դահեկան պիտի փոխ առնէր՝ ի հաշիւ ամսականին, պնակ մը ֆուլ ուտելու համար: Բայց անձնական  դառնութեանց մասին ոչ մէկ ակնարկութիւն կը գտնենք անոր արձակ թէ ոտանաւոր գործերուն մէջ:

Կայ երկու բան, սակայն, որոնց կորուստին հանդէպ ան չէ կրցած անտարբեր մնալ::

Թեքէեան   ողբացած է  աչքին կորուստը ու հայ գիրքի ընթերցողի կորուստը: