Vicken Cheterian
Geoffrey Robertson started his talk at
the Responsibility 2015 conference in New York by telling the story of
his great-uncle. William Robertson was an Australian soldier in the
allied forces who in 1915 was sent to fight against the Ottoman army
and, hardly twenty-four hours after disembarking at Gallipoli and joining his comrades in a charge on the cliff-top defences, was felled by a sniper or machine‐gunner.
The choice of Robertson to deliver the opening speech at Responsibility 2015 -
dedicated to the hundred-year anniversary of the genocide of the
Armenians - is symbolically charged. The Australian-born lawyer, long
based in London, has had a long career defending sensitive human-rights
cases. In 2006 he was the judge heading the United Nations Special Court
for Sierra Leone, which indicted former president Charles Taylor for
war crimes. Most recently, he was part of the Armenian legal team
(alongside Amal Clooney) in a case concerning denial of the genocide at the European Court of Human Rights in Brussels, as well as authoring a book on the Armenian genocide. Therefore, his presence symbolically bridged between the
annihilation of Christian minorities in the Ottoman empire a hundred
years ago, with current concerns about mass violations of human rights
and crimes against humanity.
It begins with recognition
Everyone knows that mass killings of Armenians happened, but we hardly know anything else. What happened in 1915, and how is it relevant
to us today? What makes the Armenian genocide important is that it is
the first "modern genocide". In pre-modern times, invading armies did
massacre local populations and destroy their civilisations - whether it
was the Roman armies destroying Carthage, or the invading Mongols
destroying Baghdad.
What makes the Armenian case the prototype of modern genocides is that it is the government itself that turned against
a part of its own population, declaring it as "undesirable" and
deciding to annihilate them physically and erase their cultural traces.
Under the shadow of the first world war - which the Ottomans joined by
their own will on the side of the German empire - the government
declared Armenians, all Armenians, as traitors and rebels. First,
intellectuals were arrested and executed; second, men serving in the
army were disarmed and executed; third, remaining civilians were deported to concentration camps in Der Ez‐Zor, where they were massacred en masse.
There is a growing scholarly literature
showing the relationship between the genocide of the Armenians and Nazi
crimes in the Holocaust, and how German nationalists took the
"successes" of the Young Turks
in getting rid of their Christian minorities (Armenians, but also
Assyrians and Greeks) as a model for their own creation of a
"homogenous" German homeland by massacring Jews, Slavs and other
populations. At the same time, the Stalinist regime in the Soviet Union
was deporting and massacring large part of its population, based on
class or ethnic criteria. In later decades there were similar cases of mass murder and liquidation in Cambodia, Bosnia and Rwanda.
Yet
what also distinguishes the genocide of the Armenian from the Jewish
Holocaust or, to an extent, these later genocides, is that in the case
of the Armenians the perpetrator does not recognise
its crime. For a century, Turkey first tried to erase even the memory
of the Armenians; of the 2,500 churches and 500 monasteries in 1914,
only forty active Armenian churches remain, and while 2.2 million
Armenians lived in Turkey a century ago only 60,000 Armenians are there
today. Then, when Armenians persisted in the struggle for truth and
justice, Turkey responded by arguing that the deportations (or, as
Turkey argues, "relocation") of populations were for military needs;
that in fact, it is the Armenians who should be accused, because they
were rebellious and collaborated with the enemy.
Human rights
should be the concern of everyone. If we tolerate violations in one
place, this could serve as justification for violations elsewhere,
or for use of force out of frustration for lack of justice. The
implication is: why not close our eyes to mass murder on the scale of
genocide - a crime against an entire people?
Hayg Oshagan is one
of the organisers of the New York conference, which took place under the
auspices of the Armenian Revolutionary Federation (ARF, or Tashnaks /
Dashnaks). He was confident in the struggle of his own party and of the
Armenians in general. "In the last few years the ARF has put its stress
on reparations rather than on recognition as it was before. Recognition
as an issue has been advanced and successes achieved," he says. What
kind of reparations? The first step is a legal act to demand the Turkish
government to return the church properties that were confiscated back
in 1915, and mostly destroyed. "This could be a first step," Oshagan
adds.
Denial is the last stage
The commemorations of the centenary of the genocide are taking place in a mixed
emotional atmosphere. On the one hand there is a feeling of success,
that even after one hundred years the struggle for justice continues.
What was especially encouraging at Responsibility 2015 was the
participation of a number of Turkish and Kurdish scholars
who are working today on the destruction of the Ottoman Armenians,
recognising that there can be no rule of law and genuine democracy
without addressing
the fundamental sin on which the Turkish republic was built. But at the
same time there is apprehension towards what is going on in the Middle
East where governments and armed groups have made entire civilian
populations the target of their destructive policies.
During a panel looking at artistic works inspired by the genocide - whether photography, novels or plays - one author reminded the audience that we should not give up, that the struggle
for memory and for justice should continue. "Never forget that we are
the majority, and they are a small minority", he insisted. By "we" he
meant innocent civilians victimised by "them" - the perpetrators of
crimes against humanity.
On 23 April 2014, Turkish president
Recep Tayyip Erdogan made an announcement addressed to the Armenians
where he talked about conveying his "condolences". Although the message
was bewildering - putting the suffering of the victims and the
perpetrators on the same level - it was nevertheless the first time in
ninety-nine years that a Turkish leader had acknowledged that the
Armenians had suffered at all. There
was hope that the Turkish leader would take additional, necessary steps
to address this greatest injustice. But today, it seems that what
interests Turkish leaders is not justice, but rather public relations.
"Turkey
has a big diversion plan," Geoffrey Robertson says. He is referring to
Turkish government plans to organise a big celebration of Ottoman
victories against the allied forces in Gallipoli in 1915. Traditionally,
Turkey has commemorated this battle on 18 March, but this year decided
to move the big event to 24 April, when the rest of the world will be
remembering the genocide of the Armenians. Denial is the last stage of
genocide, but it must contend against justice with truth on its side.
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