BirGün, 1 November 2004

I am from Turkey… I am an Armenian… And I am an Anatolian right down to my very bones.

Not for a single day have I contemplated abandoning my country and building my future in the ‘readymade heaven of freedoms’ known as the West, or latching on like a leech to democracies that others have paid such a heavy price to create.

My main concern has always been to transform my own country into such a heaven of freedoms.

When my country cried for Sivas,[1] I cried too. When my people were struggling against the gangs of the deep state, I was beside them in their struggle. I bound my own fate to my country’s quest for freedom.

As for the rights I may or may not enjoy at this moment, they did not come free. I have paid for them, and I continue to do so.

But now…

I have had enough both of the bogus flattery that always speaks of ‘our Armenians’ and of the provocative refrain of ‘the traitors among us.’ I am sick and tired both of the suffocating embraces and of the exclusion that leads people to lose sight of the fact that I am no more than a common, ordinary citizen...

***

I was not able to take to the streets for the 24 April anniversaries, or to erect monuments in memory of my ancestors. But I did not abandon them to history, nor will I allow them to be reduced to lifeless statues today.

I shouldered the mission of making them a living part of my own life. As far as I was able, I carried them with me, keeping their memory alive. And I struggled relentlessly against the people or the things that tried to prevent me from doing so.

I struggled relentlessly against the people or the things that tried to prevent me from doing so.

It goes without saying that I know the fate my ancestors suffered. Some of you call it a ‘massacre.’ Some, a ‘genocide.’ Some of you call it a ‘deportation.’ And others, a ‘tragedy.’

My ancestors from Anatolia would call it ‘decimation’.

I choose to call it ‘devastation.’

And I know well that if it wasn’t for this devastation, today my country would be a much more habitable place, a place that would inspire admiration.

This is why I curse both those who caused the devastation and those who acted as their pawns.

Yet my curse is aimed at the past.

I naturally want to find out about everything that occurred in the past, but that hate — that despicable, disgraceful thing that is hate — I abandon it to its dark cave in history and add, “May it stay where it is, I do not wish to make its acquaintance.”

***

I feel offended when Europe or America uses my problems, past or present, for political capital. I sense abuse and rape lurking behind their kisses. I no longer accept the despicable arbitration of an imperialism that strives to drown my future in my past.

It was those same despicable arbiters who in centuries past pitted slave gladiators against each other in the arena, who watched with great relish as they fought, and who eventually gave the thumbs down to signal that the victor should finish off the injured loser.

Therefore, in this day and age, I can accept neither a parliament nor a state assuming the position of judge on this matter.

The real judge is the people and their conscience. And my conscience tells 207 me that the conscience of no state authority could ever match that of any people.

***

My only wish is to talk freely about our shared past with my beloved friends here in Turkey — in the most comprehensive manner and without extracting any animosity from that past.

I also sincerely believe that the day will come when all Turks and Armenians will find a way to talk with one another about this shared past. And I am counting the days until a time when there won’t be a single topic that Turkey and Armenia cannot comfortably discuss or any difference they cannot put right. And when that time comes, that’s when I will turn to those extraneous third parties and say, “There’s nothing for you to do now but mind your own darn business.”

The Armenians of the world are preparing to commemorate the 90th anniversary of 1915.

And so they should… It is their right.

As for the lines above, they are how I feel…

Submitted to you for your kind attention.

[1]The Sivas massacre, also known as the Madimak massacre, refers to the events of 2 July 1993 at the Hotel Madimak in Sivas, Turkey, that resulted in the death of 35 people, mostly Alevi intellectuals, poets and musicians when a mob consisting of thousands of Sunni residents of Sivas set the building on fire.

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