Articles in the Economist - 11 March 2010
FACING UP TO HISTORY
The Economist
March 11 2010
Both Turkey and the Armenian diaspora should look for ways of rewriting
a familiar script
NOT for the first time, Armenians sense a moment of vindication in
their struggle for the acknowledgment of the tragedy that befell their
forebears during the first world war. Turkey is angry. And America's
administration is straining to limit the damage.
The latest Turkish-American rift over the Armenian question--after a
congressional committee voted on March 4th to recognise the killings
of 1915 as genocide--looks wider than some previous ones. It coincides
with a general scratchiness between America and its ally. Turkey is
reluctant to slap sanctions on Iran. Anti-Americanism is running
high among Turks. Some suspect that Barack Obama retains his view
(expressed as a senator in 2008) that "the Armenian genocide is not
an allegation...but rather a widely documented fact."
Still, the chances are that after a deep sulk, Turkey will send its
ambassador back to Washington, and the administration will persuade
legislators to avoid a vote in the full House, for fear of wrecking
an important relationship--and worsening the fading prospects for
reconciliation between Turkey and Armenia. A tired diplomatic ritual
will play out once again.
A happier ending?
Can any actor in this sorry drama do anything to improve the script?
One day a Turkish leader will be statesman enough to see that national
dignity is better served by acknowledging the sins committed on
Anatolian soil than by suppressing debate and punishing truth-tellers.
Such a leader could decouple relations with Armenia from Ottoman
history. (In any case, their argument today is more about the aftermath
of the war over Nagorno-Karabakh in the 1990s than over 1915.)
Some people in Turkey realise this. As one Turkish columnist has noted,
for Turkey to be so touchy about the minutiae of a congressional vote
betrays weakness, not strength. And nothing would silence Turkey's
detractors more than a genuine, no-holds-barred effort to probe the
events of 1915. The result of the Armenian deportations is indisputably
and horrifically clear: hundreds of thousands, probably more than a
million, died. But there is room for scholarly inquiry into the working
of the murky state machinery that led to that outcome--to determine
whether the tragedy was principally the result of murderous design
or culpable neglect. By inviting all scholars to peruse its archives
(something it has done only patchily), Turkey could disarm its critics.
For Armenians, securing recognition of their ancestors' fate is a
sacred cause. They can hardly be expected to set aside their bitter
memories because (as the heads of five big firms have complained)
American arms exports are at risk. Nor will Armenians accept the
argument that assessing the slaughter of 1915 is the work of scholars
not of political authorities, executive or legislative. As State
Department records show, the American government of the time analysed
those events and it had no doubt that "extermination" was the aim.
But if Armenians want to boost the chances that the authorities in
Ankara will eventually allow a searching look at one of the 20th
century's darkest episodes, they might think harder about their
congressional campaign. More than at any time since the modern
republic was founded in 1923, Turkish society is questioning received
truths (see article and article). That is mainly thanks to writers,
journalists and citizens who risk their skins to campaign for a more
honest approach to history. Among the finest of these was Hrant Dink,
an ethnic Armenian editor who was murdered in 2007. He worked for a
broad reconciliation between the Turks and Armenians, including the
recovery of historical truth, but not confined to it.
In his view, and that of other Turkish citizens who work for historical
justice, pressure from Congress could make the truth more elusive by
stiffening the backs of nationalists. Even among Turks who believe
that the slaughter of 1915 qualifies as genocide, there is a sense that
mentioning the g-word in a congressional resolution works against them.
If Turkey were a totalitarian state, there would be no case for
Armenian self-restraint. But precisely because Turkey is an (albeit
imperfect) democracy, the emphasis should be on giving Turks the best
possible chance to face up to their own past. Instead of telling Turks
what to think, Armenians should urge the authorities to promote inquiry
within Turkey, starting with an end to measures such as article 301
(which criminalises "insults to the Turkish nation"). The idea of
a stronger, healthier Turkish democracy may puzzle some Armenians;
but it is the best way to bring about the honesty for which they yearn.
THE COST OF RECONSTRUCTIONThe Economist
March 11 2010
Both Turkey and the Armenian diaspora should look for ways of rewriting
a familiar script
NOT for the first time, Armenians sense a moment of vindication in
their struggle for the acknowledgment of the tragedy that befell their
forebears during the first world war. Turkey is angry. And America's
administration is straining to limit the damage.
The latest Turkish-American rift over the Armenian question--after a
congressional committee voted on March 4th to recognise the killings
of 1915 as genocide--looks wider than some previous ones. It coincides
with a general scratchiness between America and its ally. Turkey is
reluctant to slap sanctions on Iran. Anti-Americanism is running
high among Turks. Some suspect that Barack Obama retains his view
(expressed as a senator in 2008) that "the Armenian genocide is not
an allegation...but rather a widely documented fact."
Still, the chances are that after a deep sulk, Turkey will send its
ambassador back to Washington, and the administration will persuade
legislators to avoid a vote in the full House, for fear of wrecking
an important relationship--and worsening the fading prospects for
reconciliation between Turkey and Armenia. A tired diplomatic ritual
will play out once again.
A happier ending?
Can any actor in this sorry drama do anything to improve the script?
One day a Turkish leader will be statesman enough to see that national
dignity is better served by acknowledging the sins committed on
Anatolian soil than by suppressing debate and punishing truth-tellers.
Such a leader could decouple relations with Armenia from Ottoman
history. (In any case, their argument today is more about the aftermath
of the war over Nagorno-Karabakh in the 1990s than over 1915.)
Some people in Turkey realise this. As one Turkish columnist has noted,
for Turkey to be so touchy about the minutiae of a congressional vote
betrays weakness, not strength. And nothing would silence Turkey's
detractors more than a genuine, no-holds-barred effort to probe the
events of 1915. The result of the Armenian deportations is indisputably
and horrifically clear: hundreds of thousands, probably more than a
million, died. But there is room for scholarly inquiry into the working
of the murky state machinery that led to that outcome--to determine
whether the tragedy was principally the result of murderous design
or culpable neglect. By inviting all scholars to peruse its archives
(something it has done only patchily), Turkey could disarm its critics.
For Armenians, securing recognition of their ancestors' fate is a
sacred cause. They can hardly be expected to set aside their bitter
memories because (as the heads of five big firms have complained)
American arms exports are at risk. Nor will Armenians accept the
argument that assessing the slaughter of 1915 is the work of scholars
not of political authorities, executive or legislative. As State
Department records show, the American government of the time analysed
those events and it had no doubt that "extermination" was the aim.
But if Armenians want to boost the chances that the authorities in
Ankara will eventually allow a searching look at one of the 20th
century's darkest episodes, they might think harder about their
congressional campaign. More than at any time since the modern
republic was founded in 1923, Turkish society is questioning received
truths (see article and article). That is mainly thanks to writers,
journalists and citizens who risk their skins to campaign for a more
honest approach to history. Among the finest of these was Hrant Dink,
an ethnic Armenian editor who was murdered in 2007. He worked for a
broad reconciliation between the Turks and Armenians, including the
recovery of historical truth, but not confined to it.
In his view, and that of other Turkish citizens who work for historical
justice, pressure from Congress could make the truth more elusive by
stiffening the backs of nationalists. Even among Turks who believe
that the slaughter of 1915 qualifies as genocide, there is a sense that
mentioning the g-word in a congressional resolution works against them.
If Turkey were a totalitarian state, there would be no case for
Armenian self-restraint. But precisely because Turkey is an (albeit
imperfect) democracy, the emphasis should be on giving Turks the best
possible chance to face up to their own past. Instead of telling Turks
what to think, Armenians should urge the authorities to promote inquiry
within Turkey, starting with an end to measures such as article 301
(which criminalises "insults to the Turkish nation"). The idea of
a stronger, healthier Turkish democracy may puzzle some Armenians;
but it is the best way to bring about the honesty for which they yearn.
Economist
March 11 2010
It takes many hands to reconcile two peoples so divided by history
FOR centuries, a stone bridge spanning the emerald green waters of
the Akhurian River connected the southern Caucasus to the Anatolian
plains: a strategic pivot on the Silk Road, running through the ancient
Armenian kingdom of Ani. Today the bridge would have linked tiny,
landlocked Armenia to Turkey. But war and natural disasters have
reduced it to a pair of stubs--a sad commentary on the relations
between the two states.
This grim image prompted an Ankara-based think-tank, called Tepav,
to devise a plan to rebuild the bridge and in so doing to reopen
the long-sealed land border by stealth. "The idea is to promote
reconciliation through cross-border tourism," explains Tepav's
director, Guven Sak. Turkey's doveish president, Abdullah Gul, has
embraced the plan. The Armenian authorities and diaspora Armenians
with deep pockets are also interested. If all went to plan, the
bridge's restoration would only be the start of a broader effort to
repair hundreds of other Armenian architectural treasures scattered
across Turkey.
This semi-official stamp on a relationship in the absence of
diplomatic ties (foreseen in an accord signed last October, but yet to
materialise) would be a first. Yet academics, artists and journalists
are striking peace on their own terms. Hardly a day passes without
Turks and Armenians hobnobbing at a reconciliation event.
It is a tricky business because true reconciliation means
confronting the ghosts of the past. For decades Turkey denied the
mass extermination of the Ottoman Armenians in 1915. Under Turkey's
draconian penal code, anyone who dares to describe the Armenian
tragedy as a genocide can end up in jail or even dead. In 2007 an
ultra-nationalist teenager murdered Hrant Dink, an Armenian-Turkish
editor who often wrote about the genocide. Although Ogun Samast pulled
the trigger it is widely assumed that rogue security officials from
the "deep state" gave him the gun.
Dink's death was a turning point. More than 100,000 Turks of all
stripes showed up at his funeral bearing placards that read: "We are
all Armenians." Indeed if the murder was intended to stifle debate
it had the reverse effect. A growing number of Turks are uttering the
g-word. Ugur Umit Ungor, a young Turkish academic is one of them. His
research aims to show how many Young Turk cadres involved in the
massacres continued to thrive after the republic was founded in 1923.
Others allude to history in more subtle ways. Take Mehmet Binay,
a Turkish film director. His documentary "Whispering Memories"
tells the story of ethnic Armenians in a village called Geben, who
embraced Islam (presumably to avoid death at the hands of Ottoman
forces). Sobs were heard during a recent screening of the film in
Yerevan, Armenia's capital.
Although today's inhabitants of Geben hesitate to call themselves
Armenians, a growing number of "crypto-Armenians" (people forced
to change identity) do just that. Their stories were collected and
recently published by Fethiye Cetin, a Turkish human-rights lawyer,
whose grandmother revealed her own Armenian roots shortly before
her death.
Meanwhile, an army of humble if accidental Armenian ambassadors
are helping to melt the ice. Turkey says that as many as 70,000
illegal Armenian migrant workers, mostly women, eke out a living as
servants and nannies in Istanbul. A recent study by Alin Ozinian,
an Armenian-Turkish researcher shows that such women arrive full of
fear of "the Turk" only to return with stories of kindness. If the
land borders were to be reopened some day, their wages would not have
to be spent on long, pricey bus rides through Georgia.
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