The "Dream Team" that Stole Armenia's Self-Rule

I hope The Armenian Observer (Ditord) won't mind, but I'm reposting a blog post of his which quite nicely follows my earlier post. You have to see the original post, if only because of the amazing photo series he chose to go with the post. Wonderful.

Here it is, in full, below:

"Armenia’s past and incumbent presidents – Levon Ter-Petrossian, Robert Kocharian and Serzh Sargsian, couldn’t force themselves to come together and celebrate the country’s Independence Day on September 21th.

"September 22 marks another anniversary. 14 years ago today Armenia turned back from the path of self-rule and democratization as a result of flawed Presidential elections in 1996. Levon Ter-Petrossian relied on use of force against opposition protesters to hold his grip on power.

"The three of them had much better relations back then.

"Robert Kocharian was the tame President of Nagorno-Karabakh Republic, who would use every occasion to congratulate and speak highly of Ter-Petrossian.

"Serzh Sargsian was the Minister of Interior and National Security, one of the key officials who helped Ter-Petrossian fabricate his victory over main opposition candidate Vazgen Manukyan and keep it too, relying on police and security service forces. Similar tactics were used by Sargsian and Kocharian to claim victory in 2008 presidential elections and break-up the rally of Ter-Petrossian supporters during the March 1 violence in the streets of capital Yerevan.

"Ter-Petrossian and Robert Kocharian can’t stand each other and have reacted fiercely to each other's critical public statements since 1998, when Kocharian ousted incumbent Ter-Petrossian and became president.

"In recent months there are also speculations about worsening relations between long time allies – Serzh Sargsian and Robert Kocharian.

"One thing they have in common, however, is their determination to take the power away from the people of Armenia as much as possible. That’s where they have been and will remain a ‘dream team’ and that’s what the biggest tragedy of this country is.

PS: Check out this Washington Post editorial which appeared in the wake of the fraudulent presidential election that was held in Armenia 14 years ago today and proved fatal for the country’s post-Soviet history.

Is Revolution in Armenia from the Top Down?

On Sept. 17, the Armenian National Congress (the acronym in Armenian is HAK) held a rally in front of the Matenadaran (Mashtots Institute of Ancient Manuscripts). The “Congress,” as it’s sometimes abbreviated to in Armenian, is an opposition group and not an actual political party. The leader of the group, Levon Ter-Petrosyan (alternative spelling: Ter-Petrosian or Ter-Petrossian) was the first president of the independent Republic of Armenia (after the collapse of the Soviet Union) and then he was re-elected again in 1996, resigning in 1998.

Many of my friends and people I respect believe that if Ter-Petrosyan were president (again), things would change. But I’m a bit more skeptical: I mean, he had his chance. This isn’t some unknown individual we’re talking about. It’s a man who was elected president, not once, but twice. Why do you think a third term would change anything?

Photo: courtesy of Armenian National Congress website

The other thing that brings out the skeptic in me is how Ter-Petrosyan has achieved almost god-like status. He is revered like a saviour, a man who will bring the country out of the many messes that it’s in. He is seen to be a man of the people, but yet, I wonder: was that the case when he was president? I doubt it.

I want to say, listen, we all want change. Many, many people are unhappy with how the current government is running things. Yes, there are people still imprisoned for their views, yes, there’s corruption, yes, there’s poverty... but why are you so sure that if Levon Ter-Petrosyan is president, things will change, or at least get better?

I want to say, listen, I want a revolution too. But in the course of world history, when did revolution ever happen from the top down, from the government? Revolution comes from the people. It is grassroots-based. There are many examples in history to prove this and in other countries that have been worse off than Armenia.

I was talking with a good friend yesterday and she confirmed what I had suspected: it’s a Soviet mentality. The belief, the expectation that the state will take care of you. That things will only change (and get better) if you have good government. Someone in power who will make it all happen for you. But why would you think that a single (and in this case, I can use the accurate term here) Caucasian man make it all better?

I believe in the power of the people, not power attributed to a single individual (whether that be a man or a woman, Caucasian or not), but to a group, a collective. I didn’t grow up in a Soviet country. Sure, I had it easy: Canada has a well-developed (what some call) socialist system. To a certain extent, it can take care of its citizens. However, there were (and still are) things that need to change, need to get better. I have participated in those rallies, I have seen how the facade of the state easily breaks down, I have struggled for change. I don’t want to compare what “struggles” I’ve had or participated in Canada with the struggles here in Armenia, but the point I want to make is wanting change, wanting revolution is nothing new, and not exclusive to Armenia. The difference is in many other places and reviewing the histories of many other countries, change didn’t come from change in government (which Ter-Petrosyan and his followers are calling for).

Change comes with revolution and revolution comes from the people.

I’ve just started reading Thomas de Waal’s Black Garden. It’s interesting to read what transpired 10, 14, 16 years ago and trace the history to understand how we got here. (And this through the eyes of an “outsider,” someone who’s neither Armenian, Azerbaijani or Turkish.) Highly recommended reading for our times and for better understanding the South Caucasus. It’s also interesting, though perhaps not surprising, that the same players are involved: I’m reading the names of the same politicians who are still around today, in some form or another. Does nothing ever change?

What do you think? If you follow Armenian politics, do you support Ter-Petrosyan, Serzh Sargsyan, some other politician or no one? What do you think needs to happen for the situation in Armenia to improve?

In Yerevan, it’s dangerous to get used to the quiet

Photo: Wikimedia Commons

My apartment is my sanctuary. Every day, I come home from work, tired from cycling and stressed from the sort of the day that only come if you work at a news agency. I realize how much I crave that moment: that moment of stepping into my place, quiet and serene, where I can remove — both the physical and metaphorical — layers of the work day I carry with me, jump into the shower and de-compress.

Perhaps it’s not so much the nature of the work that I find stressful (which, of course, it can be), but the environment in which I work.

I work in a rented unit that’s part of a large apartment complex in a busy part of Yerevan. By large, I don’t so much mean that the building is tall, but that there are many buildings connected to each other overlooking a central space that can be considered primarily to be a parking lot. The room I work in has lots of windows which is great for natural light, but not so great when it comes to looking into your neighbors’ windows and hearing every single argument and noise coming not only from the neighboring units, but also from outside.

Every day, at least 2 or 3 children call for their mothers from the concrete square that though is mainly a parking lot, it’s also a children’s playing area, a spot for an impromptu game of backgammon between older unemployed men, and the spot from which watermelons are sold out of the trunk of a car as a man yells “Fine watermelons! 100 dram! Delicious watermelons!”

Come to think of it, I haven’t heard that man in a while, but over the span of a few days not too long ago, I heard the price of watermelon go down from 120 to 100 to 80 dram per kilo (don’t assume the price is the cost per watermelon — oh, no, it’s the cost per kilo) and my heart went out to the vendor and his business, competing with the low prices offered by supermarket chains.

Apart from children calling out to their mothers (why, by the way, is the intonation always the same so even when it’s a different kid “Mama!” sounds the same?) and women calling out to their husbands or brothers or, surprise, surprise, their children, I have the fortunate opportunity to hear the sound of a vacuum that comes on and off daily while I struggle to get that news piece online, or, say, find the best translation into English for a particular Armenian word.

At first, I thought that our neighbors followed the adage “cleanliness is next to godliness” and had a penchant for vacuuming EVERY DAY, but it turns out that’s not the case: rather, there’s a guy operating a car cleaning service out of a garage right below our window. And as if it’s not enough that I have to hear the sound of a vacuum every day (trust me, you can only imagine how lovely silence sounds after the vacuum is turned off), our dear friend likes to turn on the music from whatever car he’s cleaning at the time and entertain the neighbors with the latest Armenian rabiz hit song.

Despite the party soundtrack, I don’t have the urge to dance.

So you can imagine how, in comparison, my apartment feels like a sanctuary. And yet, in Yerevan, where one is inundated with sounds and smells at every turn, I think, it’s dangerous to get used to quiet.

And now, I sit here in my apartment with the window open, overlooking yet another residential courtyard (a hayat as it’s known), usually quiet, but today there are contractors working on adding another room to an apartment across the way and the sound of the circular saw is a reminder that no matter where you may be in Yerevan, you cannot separate yourself from its sights and sounds...

Hearing more than one, and different, stories

Hearing novelist Chimamanda Adichie's TED talk about “The danger of a single story,” I was reminded of media reports on Armenia and Azerbaijan. Too often, we hear (and read) the same nationalist rhetoric that is conveyed to us by biased media coverage from both sides.

And it’s not just hearing one story, but hearing the same story that is dangerous. A friend of mine in Canada recently reminded me of local activist work, which seems to involve organizing the same events and highlighting the same causes, of course through the same Eurocentric, Western lens and I have to agree with her: it’s tiring to see people with good intentions doing what was already done before and not actually making any strides forward.

So how do we move forward?

Well, for one thing, we understand that no single story can define a nation, a culture, a sect or any other myriad of all those aspects of our identity. It is important to read, hear, watch many stories, and when we think we have a complete picture of that nation/culture/people, we watch, hear and read again, and again, and again. Because I don’t believe that’s possible to ever have a complete picture of a nation/culture/people.

That’s why I’m excited about the Eurasia Partnership Foundation’s unbiased e-media coverage in Armenia and Azerbaijan project. According to the EPF Armenia website, the project aims to contribute to accurate and unbiased reporting of the bilateral relationship between Armenia and Azerbaijan and the Nagorno-Karabakh conflict, especially in the online media and blogosphere.

As someone who works in online news media, I’m glad that more attention is being paid to this not-so-new field, and specifically in the area of unbiased media reporting between these two South Caucasus states.

Now here’s hoping the proposals they’ve received take into account reporting on more than one story... ;)

Being Queer and in Love in Yerevan...

... so reads the title of a guest post by yours truly on Bekhsoos.com.

Bekhsoos.com is a queer Arab magazine published weekly by the amazing folks at Meem, "a community of lesbian, bisexual, queer & questioning women and transgender persons in Lebanon."

According to the website, Bekhsoos' "objective is to fill the gap of lesbian- and transgender-produced writing in the Arab world through articles, reports, investigations, personal stories, opinion pieces, and creative writing." The website publishes articles in Arabic and in English, and I even noticed a poem published recently in French.

Though I'd be hard-pressed to say that Armenia is part of the Arab world, I was asked to contribute a piece on what it means to be a queer woman living in Yerevan, Armenia, by a friend of mine, a fellow queer Armenian living in Beirut who happens to be working at Meem. I was — and still am — flattered to be asked and I hope they weren't too disappointed by the piece I submitted. Writing it gave me a chance to write from a personal perspective — something I find hard to do in public.

What about you? Do you find it difficult to be candid and personal in your writing when it appears in public? Or are you more comfortable writing your personal thoughts than presenting others' stories or reporting the goings-on around you?

Moving the conversation forward: Armenian-Azeri dialogue

I just came across a new blog that I wanted to share with you. It's called "Global Chaos" and the name was enough to draw me in. Blogger Yelena (or Lena) Osipova's latest post is on "the other" — growing up in Armenia and being taught to hate "the other" (in this case, Azeris), a group of people whom Lena had never met but whom she had heard so much about.

This post was republished by EurasiaNet, which is how I found myself on Lena's blog. EurasiaNet published the post along with another article on the same topic: Scary Azeri's article "Sometime in my lifetime" originally published by Oneworld: The Caucasian Knot as part of their Overcoming Negative Stereotypes in the South Caucasus project (yay, Onnik!).

Apparently, another new article on the Armenian-Azerbaijani dialogue will appear on Oneworld soon: this one by one of my favourite journalists, Liana Aghajanian of the online magazine Ianyan. Look out for this and other stories on moving the conversation between Armenians and Azeris forward. Great work, everyone!

On taking risks

Load the ship and set out. No one knows for certain whether the vessel will sink or reach the harbor. Cautious people say, "I'll do nothing until I can be sure." Merchants know better. If you do nothing, you lose. Don't be one of those merchants who won't risk the ocean.

- Rumi

(Thank you to a good friend of mine who reminded me of Rumi with this post of hers.)

A queer woman’s take on living in the Caucasus (or at least Yerevan)

I live with my partner. In Yerevan. That might sound exceptional to some, but that’s just the way it is. We sometimes hold hands in public (especially if we’re rushing across the street in oncoming traffic). If we get any odd stares, it’s usually directed at my partner who gets odd stares anyway, even when she’s alone, from the way she looks. When we’re together, people ask her where she’s from, assuming I’m the one who’s from here and she must be from somewhere else.

Public displays of affection are limited, naturally, but then again you don’t see many heterosexual couples making out either. (I find that, in general, sex and sexuality — gay or straight — are taboo.)

When my partner goes to the doctor and he or she asks her if she’s having sex, she says no. Because we all know what is meant by that question: are you having heterosexual (a.k.a. penetrative) sex? Though I have yet to come across a doctor who clarifies the sex question. And it’s too bad really because how can you diagnose or treat someone if you’re not getting the full picture?

Actually, before asking the sex question, doctors often want to know your marital status: are you married? (And don’t think for a moment that this question might mean are you married to your same-sex partner.) As if from your response the doctor can assume that you’re having sex (ha!). But just to be sure, Doctor asks whether you’re sexually active after he or she has satisfactorily received a response to the marital status question. *sigh*

When we travelled in the region together, hotel and B&B staff assumed we were friends and so gave us a room with two separate single beds. But being an artist and a writer, we’re often inclined to be creative ;)

You should know that there’s no Pride Parade in Yerevan. [And no one I know has attempted to do what these activists did in Moscow this year. Though there was a symbolic gay wedding in Armenia a few years ago.] There are no rainbow flags on storefront windows proclaiming “Queer Dollars Welcome Here,” or banners advertising the next local queer event. There are no gay couples kissing in the street though I swear I’ve seen straight men more affectionate with each other in public than anywhere else I’ve lived. And unfortunately the odd gay man that might be depicted in a TV series is usually portrayed in a negative way.

There’s no law that specifically prohibits discrimination based on sexual orientation or gender identity, though thankfully there are a few NGOs that work with the LGBT community (in terms of support, advocacy, education, resources), as well as educating the mainstream public on what it means to be LGBT, explaining/educating on terminology and history, outlining human rights.

And of course, we are here. And there are many of us. Unfortunately, the ignorant views (often guided by religious beliefs and/or “family values”) makes it harder for us to come out and even threatens our safety.

Take for example British-based Armenian band VO.X who, in their latest video, label homosexuality a “perversion.” But, hey, they’re just expressing their personal opinion, right? Wrong. Even worse, VO.X has not only changed the settings on their video on YouTube so that comments are no longer allowed, but also added a description which says that this video is about Armenia ONLY (caps their’s) and the views and opinions expressed therein are “purely and subjectively Orthodox Christian and as such, within Armenia’s context, do not violate human rights.”

Are you kidding me?

I could go on and on about this topic, but others have already written extensively on it and so for more information, read blogger ArtMika’s post here, along with his follow-up post here, as well as Global Voices coverage here.

Armenia might have endorsed the UN statement against discrimination based on sexual orientation and gender identity in December 2008, but it doesn’t mean it has any laws that actually protect LGBT people from discrimination. [See this Wikipedia article on LGBT rights in Armenia that also includes a brief history... in case you’re ever confronted with the argument that it was Europe who “brought” the notion of same-sex relationships to Armenia — ha!]

The truth is, it’s not easy being queer anywhere. And yes, I agree that it’s especially not easy being queer in Armenia. But please don’t for a moment think that there aren’t any LGBT folks here, or that we can’t live our lives here like everyone else.

Life is full of contradictions. You don’t have to go far or look too hard to see the diversity that exists in the lives of those around you... even on these ancient lands.

Things I Love

Photo from my personal collection.

Eating. Cooking. Traveling. Writing. Blogging. Now if only I could combine these ingredients into a recipe for paid employment ;) Yesterday, I watched Julie & Julia and became inspired. Today, a brief post to remind myself (and you, dear reader) that anything is possible. Now back to the hustle…

The many faces of nationalism and xenophobia

I know there exists nationalist rigour in Armenia but I find it difficult hearing it on a personal level, on a one-on-one level and from people who I consider to be understanding, in general, and open-minded at best.

I very recently began volunteering with this great environmental NGO. I won’t go into the details here as this post is not about pointing fingers, but a wonderful, educated, and otherwise understanding man who’s been working at said NGO for over 12 years recently said some things that I, in my naïveté, was surprised to hear.

When talking about possible upcoming vacation time, I asked whether he’d be spending some time at Lake Sevan in Armenia or Batumi in Georgia (a popular tourist destination for Armenian citizens). He said he would rather die (or something to that effect) than give any of his money to Georgia and the Georgian people. He then went on to paint an essentialist picture of Georgians and how they only pursue their own interests, and that, at the expense of others. I was surprised because until then we’d been having a wonderful conversation about local and Diasporan Armenians and more interestingly on those Diasporan Armenians who repatriate to Armenia (case in point: me). I could understand his perspective and in general, I thought we understood each other. But on the topic of Georgia and the Georgians, he was quite firm and quite racist/xenophobic. And from there, our opinions diverged.

Then, yesterday I got a chance to meet a well-known Armenian sculptor. Another interesting conversation ensued, but more so on the topic of art and artists and we seemed to be in general agreement. And then, suddenly, he says how we (i.e. Armenians) forced the Turks who were living here (here? as in, in Armenia?) out and how towns and villages in Eastern Armenia had Turkish names (?). Now I don’t know about the facts of his statements, but the fervour in which they were spoken, the way he seemed so proud that we kicked out the Turks, really irked me. And yet, I didn’t find any way of saying anything otherwise since it would be his word against mine (read: older Armenian man born and raised in Armenia vs. young Diasporan Armenian who hasn’t lived in Armenia for a full year yet).

Incident number 3: a Facebook post by a friend of a friend who encourages Armenians outside of Armenia to return to Armenia, raise their kids here and not to intermarry with non-Armenians and produce children who, as he says, might be European or American. Um, hello? Do you live in this country? (He does.)

Look around you, my friend: quite a lot, and I repeat, A LOT, of local Armenians are not 100% Armenian by blood. Many are mixed, often Russian-Armenian. These type of statements only contribute to the false idea of “full-blood Armenians” which apparently are those who live in Armenia. Those outside of Armenia, be warned: you could have mixed-race or mixed-ethnicity children. Oddly enough, no one talks about that reality inside Armenia. Or about how this country has never been populated only by Armenians, and even today, there’s a sizeable Yezidi and Kurdish population (not to mention, the Iranian community, which has been growing in recent years).

And finally, another moment where I thought even in the best of intentions, even among those educated, open-minded groups of people that I fortunately have a chance to interact with regularly, there are age-old racist and xenophobic sentiments that may be hidden, but at any given moment can rise to the surface.

Case in point: Well-known journalist Onnik Krikorian who writes for Global Voices presented on “Social Media and Conflict Transformation on Armenia-Azerbaijan relations” at Bar Camp Yerevan yesterday. A nice refreshing change from the usual rhetoric when it comes to this touchy subject. However, during question and answer period, a couple of individuals stated that Azerbaijan should be the first to take a step (toward conflict resolution) and that it’s worse “over there” and what about all those lies the Azerbaijani media publish about Armenia? And with the snap of your fingers, we were once again confronted with age-old beliefs about the enemy and the “us vs. them” mentality.

Instead of pointing fingers, I say, instead of saying “they” should go first, why don’t  you look at your own actions? You can only speak for yourself and only control your own actions, so this should be our point of departure. Otherwise, the conversation goes nowhere. These type of statements are road blocks: they don’t move the conversation forward, they only lead to dead ends.

Onnik spoke about his Azerbaijani friends, about cooperating with Azerbaijani journalists and activists and how Armenians have more in common with our neighbour than we might think. He also made special mention of Social Innovation Camp Caucasus, which I was lucky to have been a part of earlier this year.

Another Bar Camp participant, who also said she has Azerbaijani friends (Onnik, you seemed surprised ;) asked, how effective do you think this grassroots level of connecting one-on-one really is? Shouldn’t it be the governments’ (both Armenian and Azerbaijani) responsibility to initiate conflict resolution? To which Onnik brilliantly replied, “If you’re going to wait for governments to initiate change, you’re going to be waiting a long [and I add, long] time.”

I think it’s all about the grassroots level. It starts here. It starts now. With us. We don’t wait for governments, nor should I say NGOs. We start with each of us. Though I believe we should address the nationalism that’s touted by the media and by the state, I don’t think that’s where change happens or where we should start from. We start with you and I.

Stop the xenophobic comments against Georgians, Azerbaijanis, and Turks. Stop the generalizations and the essentialism. It doesn’t move the conversation forward. These are age-old beliefs and though, yes, history must be addressed, I agree with Onnik: we don’t start mending relations with our fellow Azerbaijanis by talking about Nagorno-Karabakh. Let’s talk about something else. And once we’ve found our common ground (because, trust me, we have a common ground), only then can we move on to tackling the tough issues.