Seeking Justice after War

Why should there be such indifference among Arab intellectuals in the Armenian genocide? This question was at the center of remarks by Vicken Cheterian, from the University of Geneva and Webster University in Switzerland. The geographical links to the genocide are obvious in names like Der Zor and its concentration camps, the last station for an estimated 870,000 deportees, women and children. Cheterian explained the absence of these facts from Syrian historiography in terms that echo Atatürk’s method: Arab nationalism considered what occurred before their nations came into being as outside history, or at best, as part of Ottoman or Turkish history. Arab history, in contrast, unfolds as a narrative about a break with the Ottoman past. Cheterian stressed the role of post-colonial studies, which did not help overcome this denialism, as they located the genocide outside of, or prior to Arab history. The implications of this for understanding problems in the region today were discussed, from the failure of secularization to the concepts of religion, state, citizenship and identity.

International Justice and Human Rights

In sharp contrast to the tradition of denialism — whether deliberate or by omission — in the interwar period new, advanced concepts in international law come into being. Introducing this subject, Hülya Adak, from Sabancı University and the Free University of Berlin, spoke about Andrei N. Mandelstam and his legacy. A graduate in law from St. Petersburg university, he served as dragoman at the Russian embassy in Constantinople until the outbreak of war and was engaged in discussion of Armenian reform. Following the Russian revolution he was in Paris, and dedicated his efforts to human rights issues, particularly pertaining to minorities from the former Ottoman empire. He was a critic of the Treaty of Lausanne, because it brought “neither peace nor justice,” and ignored Armenian interests. In his 1929 Declaration  of the International Rights of Man, he articulated demands for rights of minorities to life, liberty, property, language and religion, and asserted there should be no legal distinctions on basis of race, sex, language or religion. Adak regretted that these advanced ideas are very little known in Turkey and proposed that Mandelstam’s works be made available in translation.

The urgent need for such internationally acknowledged rights could not be more obvious in the case of women and children. Edita Gzoyan, from the Armenian Genocide Museum-Institute in Yerevan, presented an overview of violence committed against women and children, seen in the context of the development of international law. Refugee Armenian women and girls were particularly vulnerable, and often forced into slavery; their plight attracted public attention, but was scarcely alleviated by charitable interventions of single individuals and organizations. Despite its commitment to providing security and cooperation, the League of Nations was reluctant to act on behalf of women’s rights, even though it formally asserted the equality of the sexes. But this changed. Its covenant contained articles condemning female slave markets in the region, and in 1920 and 1921 a permanent body came into being, a Committee for the Protection of Women and Children. Ultimately the Geneva Declaration on the Rights of Children appeared in 1924.

New states had come into being after the war, but masses of refugees had no access to citizenship and therefore the protection of a state. Roy Knocke of the Lepsiushaus examined this issue in a speech on “Fridtjof Nansen: the Plight of Statelessness as an International Challenge.” By 1926, he said, of 9.5 million refugees, one third were stateless. Nansen, a Norwegian explorer and scientist, had been an observer at the Paris peace conference, regarding the rights of small states, and became President of the League of Nations Society in Norway, which became a member in 1920. The following year Nansen was League of Nations’ High Commissioner for Refugees. He is best remembered for his development of the “Nansen passport,” a travel document devised for stateless refugees. It was not a universal document, nor a passport in fact, but was recognized and provided the means to acquire aid, housing and employment. Nansen also negotiated terms in the Greek/Turkish population transfer; this forced exchange, which was a form of ethnic cleansing, was accepted by Nansen and the League as a pragmatic solution to a pressing problem, and a form of protection for minorities. Nansen was involved in the Armenian case, but a 1924 approach to resettle them in the Caucasus failed in light of Russian and Turkish opposition. Some 10,000 found resettlement in Yerevan and Lebanon. In his book, “Armenia and the Near East,” Nansen expressed his dismay with the European and American powers who had reneged on their pledges to the Armenians: had they possessed oil or gold or other precious raw materials, perhaps they would have found aid in their time of greatest suffering.

Atrocities against Civilians and the Rise of Humanitarian Movements

Aid did come to the persecuted Armenians, largely in the form of independent initiatives. Melanie Telanian, from the University of Michigan at Ann Arbor, spoke on “Violence, Aid and Non-State Actors: Humanitarian Interventions in Nineteenth Century Anatolia.” At the center of her presentation was the Kaiserswerth Deaconate, a humanitarian social, educational and health institution founded in 1836. Following the Adana massacres in 1919, the Deaconate organized housing for Armenian children in orphanages. To finance their work, they appealed to the German public to fund child sponsorships. They often would appeal to a reading public fed on Gothic novels, playing up images of “the terrible Turk” and the virtues of Christian charity. Due to imperial Germany’s geopolitical interests in the Ottoman empire, the government and military, as well as press, were reluctant to issue condemnations, and private initiatives had taken responsibility for aid.

Geopolitical factors played a role also in those cases where great powers did intervene with humanitarian aid, for example the United Kingdom and America. In a talk on “The Anglo-Americans Struggle to Save the Armenians and Remake Global Order,” Charlie Laderman of Kings College, London posed the question: why should such a struggle for the survival of a small state like Armenia be so important for two great powers? Already in the 1890s, at the time of the Hamidian massacres, debate was raging in the USA, public outrage led to petitions urging government action. In 1896, when Congress sent a resolution to President Cleveland to intervene, appeals were made to the UK to cooperate. Though no government action ensued, in 1901 Theodore Roosevelt denounced the “crimes against civilization” and three years later gave a speech on humanitarian intervention.

In 1915 as the deportations were underway, Roosevelt (out of office) became the leading proponent of US entry into the conflict and when America declared war on Germany, Roosevelt was outraged that Turkey remained untouched. Wilson’s aim was to defeat Germany not to save the Armenians. Following the war, geopolitical interests continued to prevail when the British supported a US mandate for Armenia as what Milner called “a bond of union,” i.e., an Anglo-American colonial alliance. In Wilson’s thinking, a US mandate would secure a role for the US against Europe. The failure of the mandate, the early end of the Armenian Republic and the pressures of Russia and nationalist Turkey were the outcome. Laderman concluded his remarks by showing a portrait of a young Armenian woman holding a white flower, symbolizing hope. The painting, entitled “L’Esperance,” was a gift from an Armenian delegation to President Wilson in the White House in 1917, an expression of gratitude for the American people’s humanitarian aid to Armenians.

Indeed, the mobilization of Americans to provide humanitarian aid was unprecedented, and the work of groups like Near East Relief became a model. Hilmar Kaiser from Yerevan State University shed new light on this, by examining “The Armenian Origin of Near East Relief.” In September 1915, Near East Relief representatives succeeded in organizing British support for their cause, and the influential Toynbee/Bryce “Blue Book” documenting the atrocities had an impact on public awareness. Armenians reportedly attended NER meetings, to campaign for more relief.

In July 1915, Kaiser said, no Armenian networks were functioning on the ground, the AGBU were considered “terrorists” and faced grave security threats. The Armenian missionaries were thus the only actors left, Catholics, Apostolics and Protestants. A central figure organizing humanitarian resistance networks was Reverend Hovhannes Eskijian, who worked with all church groups, in Aleppo, for example, as well as with German and American diplomats, Walter Rössler and Jesse Jackson. The Armenian Revolutionary Federation was also involved, until 1916. Eskijian was the key person distributing funds, contributions from NER, as well as information. Kaiser concluded that NER never would have functioned had it not been for the Armenians. The missionaries continued their work, the Protestants in the Armenian Missionary Association of America launched educational and social projects. The Eskijian family, among others, have maintained the commitment for generations, active today in America and in Artsakh.