Tweet
FORUM: TO THE ARMENIAN DIASPORA
Mustafa Akyol
Washington Times, DC
http://washingtontimes.com/article/20071023/COMME NTARY/110230012/1012/commentary
Oct 23 2007
A few days ago a new friend of mine who happens to be an American
Armenian played some beautiful songs for me that come from the deepest
roots of her ethnic tradition. While I enjoyed the numinous rhythms
of that magnetic Armenian music, I realized how similar they were to
the tunes of the Turkish classical music I have grown up hearing.
"Despite all the political warfare," I said to myself, "alas, look
how similar we are." I actually have a similar feeling when I drive
along the magnificent mosques and palaces of Istanbul, some of which
were built by Armenian architects - men in fez who devoutly worshipped
Christ and proudly served the Sultan.
Well, we were the children of the same empire, weren't we? We actually
lived side by side as good neighbors for centuries until the modern
virus called "nationalism" descended upon us. And then hell broke
loose.
A war of two narratives: I know what you think about that hell,
especially about its most horrific episode, the one in 1915. Your
grandmothers must have told you about the plunderers, killers and
rapists who attacked them and countless fellow Armenians. You call
the whole tragedy "the Armenian Genocide" and try to convince the
parliaments of the world to accept that definition. You also think,
I presume, that we Turks are monsters who not only committed that
horrible crime, but also refuse to take responsibility for it even
after nearly a century.
This is how you see history and the present moment, right? Well, as a
Turk, let me say I understand you. Because I see that you sincerely
believe in the accuracy of the historical narrative you were raised
on. How else could you have responded to that?
However, please note there is another narrative about the tragedy of
1915, on which we Turks have been raised. Our grandmothers told us
Armenians collaborated with the Russian invaders and started to kill
our people. Then, the narrative goes, our people started to kill the
Armenians to both to protect themselves and take revenge. "They killed
us and so we killed them" is the summary of what 99 percent of the
Turks know and think about what you call genocide. And just like you,
they sincerely believe in the accuracy of their historical narrative.
So there are two different accounts of what really happened in 1915.
I know that in the Western academic world your narrative has gained
much more support, but there are serious non-Turkish scholars who
tend to agree with the Turkish version, too. When I read the works
of Professor Guenter Lewy recently, for example, I was convinced that
what my grandmother told me was really true.
Of course I am no expert on the issue. I don't have enough knowledge to
decide whether the truth lies in your narrative, in our narrative, or
somewhere in between. But I am open to learning more and reconsidering
my position. "Follow the evidence," one of my core principles reads,
"wherever it may lead." And, believe me, there are many people in
Turkey who think the same way.
Pushing the wrong way: Now since we are getting to know each other, let
me be a bit blunter and take on what you have just done by convincing
the U.S. Congress to pass a resolution on "the Armenian Genocide."
If you think such acts will push us Turks to be more self-critical
and initiate an internal discussion that will lead us to consider
your narrative about 1915, you are daydreaming. The reality is quite
the contrary. Foreign pressure will make Turkish society only more
reactionary. Grounds for internal discussion will vanish. Moreover,
our ultra-nationalist nuts will go crazier than ever. Their most
militant ones might well target, once again, liberal intellectuals
and our Armenian citizens. You are simply fueling the fire.
The leaders of Turkey's Armenian community, including Patriarch Mesrob
Mutafyan II, have been warning you about these dangers and urging
you to stop playing this resolution game. But sadly, you don't ever
listen to them. You accuse them of lacking courage and of a defeatist
psychology.
But how do you know you yourselves are not the victims of another
psychology - that of the diaspora? Social scientists repeatedly say
diaspora communities tend to go fanatic. Have you ever considered
taking a hint?
If you would like some friendly advice, here it is: If you really want
to see more Turks reflecting on your narrative about the tragedy of
1915, initiate a genuine dialogue. Try to convince not House Speaker
Nancy Pelosi and her colleagues, but us, the Turks. Write more books
and articles, create better movies and Web sites, and organize fair
conferences and seminars telling us your story. And do these not as
propaganda tools against the Turks, but as efforts to communicate
with them.
Convey your message calmly, in other words, and it will be heard. But
don't try to impose it onto us. We are not a nation of monsters,
but we do have a stubborn side. When foreigners start to dictate our
history to us, we tend to revert to our grandmothers' stories. And if
we start listening to your narrative, it will not be because we are
pushed into a corner by the politics of a powerful lobby but because
our hearts are touched by the memoirs of a terrible tragedy.
Mustafa Akyol
Washington Times, DC
http://washingtontimes.com/article/20071023/COMME NTARY/110230012/1012/commentary
Oct 23 2007
A few days ago a new friend of mine who happens to be an American
Armenian played some beautiful songs for me that come from the deepest
roots of her ethnic tradition. While I enjoyed the numinous rhythms
of that magnetic Armenian music, I realized how similar they were to
the tunes of the Turkish classical music I have grown up hearing.
"Despite all the political warfare," I said to myself, "alas, look
how similar we are." I actually have a similar feeling when I drive
along the magnificent mosques and palaces of Istanbul, some of which
were built by Armenian architects - men in fez who devoutly worshipped
Christ and proudly served the Sultan.
Well, we were the children of the same empire, weren't we? We actually
lived side by side as good neighbors for centuries until the modern
virus called "nationalism" descended upon us. And then hell broke
loose.
A war of two narratives: I know what you think about that hell,
especially about its most horrific episode, the one in 1915. Your
grandmothers must have told you about the plunderers, killers and
rapists who attacked them and countless fellow Armenians. You call
the whole tragedy "the Armenian Genocide" and try to convince the
parliaments of the world to accept that definition. You also think,
I presume, that we Turks are monsters who not only committed that
horrible crime, but also refuse to take responsibility for it even
after nearly a century.
This is how you see history and the present moment, right? Well, as a
Turk, let me say I understand you. Because I see that you sincerely
believe in the accuracy of the historical narrative you were raised
on. How else could you have responded to that?
However, please note there is another narrative about the tragedy of
1915, on which we Turks have been raised. Our grandmothers told us
Armenians collaborated with the Russian invaders and started to kill
our people. Then, the narrative goes, our people started to kill the
Armenians to both to protect themselves and take revenge. "They killed
us and so we killed them" is the summary of what 99 percent of the
Turks know and think about what you call genocide. And just like you,
they sincerely believe in the accuracy of their historical narrative.
So there are two different accounts of what really happened in 1915.
I know that in the Western academic world your narrative has gained
much more support, but there are serious non-Turkish scholars who
tend to agree with the Turkish version, too. When I read the works
of Professor Guenter Lewy recently, for example, I was convinced that
what my grandmother told me was really true.
Of course I am no expert on the issue. I don't have enough knowledge to
decide whether the truth lies in your narrative, in our narrative, or
somewhere in between. But I am open to learning more and reconsidering
my position. "Follow the evidence," one of my core principles reads,
"wherever it may lead." And, believe me, there are many people in
Turkey who think the same way.
Pushing the wrong way: Now since we are getting to know each other, let
me be a bit blunter and take on what you have just done by convincing
the U.S. Congress to pass a resolution on "the Armenian Genocide."
If you think such acts will push us Turks to be more self-critical
and initiate an internal discussion that will lead us to consider
your narrative about 1915, you are daydreaming. The reality is quite
the contrary. Foreign pressure will make Turkish society only more
reactionary. Grounds for internal discussion will vanish. Moreover,
our ultra-nationalist nuts will go crazier than ever. Their most
militant ones might well target, once again, liberal intellectuals
and our Armenian citizens. You are simply fueling the fire.
The leaders of Turkey's Armenian community, including Patriarch Mesrob
Mutafyan II, have been warning you about these dangers and urging
you to stop playing this resolution game. But sadly, you don't ever
listen to them. You accuse them of lacking courage and of a defeatist
psychology.
But how do you know you yourselves are not the victims of another
psychology - that of the diaspora? Social scientists repeatedly say
diaspora communities tend to go fanatic. Have you ever considered
taking a hint?
If you would like some friendly advice, here it is: If you really want
to see more Turks reflecting on your narrative about the tragedy of
1915, initiate a genuine dialogue. Try to convince not House Speaker
Nancy Pelosi and her colleagues, but us, the Turks. Write more books
and articles, create better movies and Web sites, and organize fair
conferences and seminars telling us your story. And do these not as
propaganda tools against the Turks, but as efforts to communicate
with them.
Convey your message calmly, in other words, and it will be heard. But
don't try to impose it onto us. We are not a nation of monsters,
but we do have a stubborn side. When foreigners start to dictate our
history to us, we tend to revert to our grandmothers' stories. And if
we start listening to your narrative, it will not be because we are
pushed into a corner by the politics of a powerful lobby but because
our hearts are touched by the memoirs of a terrible tragedy.