The Aurora Humanitarian Initiative is a foundation that seeks to address on-the-ground humanitarian challenges around the world with the focus on helping the most destitute. Its mission is rooted in the Armenian history as the Initiative was founded on behalf of the survivors of the Armenian Genocide and in gratitude to their saviors and strives to transform this experience into a global movement. Even in the darkest hours of human history, there are glimmers of light. A hundred years ago, many courageous people stepped forward to help Armenians when they needed it most. Thanks to their actions, a people survived, against terrible odds. Now generosity lives in the heart of every Armenian.

Now, one hundred years later, it’s time to share these stories,” says the Initiative’s website. “100 LIVES is an initiative led by philanthropists Vartan Gregorian, Noubar Afeyan and Ruben Vardanyan.100 LIVES will tell these survivor stories. We will uncover and tell the stories of survival and humanity that emerged during the Armenian Genocide, which began in 1915. We will collect stories of survivors and those who helped them. So many people owe their survival and prosperity to the strength and generosity of others. Not just Armenians, but all of us. It’s time to acknowledge these deeds. We want our actions to help inspire others to stop, to think about those who have helped them during a moment of crisis, and to express gratitude by doing something in return. 100 LIVES is showing our gratitude through action: through launching the Aurora Prize and supporting humanitarian projects around the world.”

This story is excerpted from the Aurora LIVES 100 interview with Philippe Raffi Kalfayan about his beloved late grandmother, Aghavni Kalfayan, a survivor of the Armenian Genocide. Raffi, who holds a PhD in Law, is a French international lawyer advising governments and NGOs.

Little Aghavni (first row, center) in the arms of one of her brothers. (Afyonkarahisar, 1911)

Philippe Kalfayan’s name has come to be associated with human rights advocacy. From 2001 to 2007, he was secretary general of the International Federation for Human Rights (FIDH), and to this day, he plays a prominent role in the organization. Since 2003, he has served as a legal expert for the Council of Europe’s Directorate General for Human Rights and Rule of Law. More than just his heritage ties Raffi to Armenia; he pioneered the establishment of the bar association in the newly independent republic. He is also a columnist for the Armenian Mirror-Spectator.

“When my grandmother, a seamstress, sewed her vests and clothing on her Singer sewing machine when I was a child, I would sit at her feet and listen to her stories. I would tirelessly ask her to tell me about her life and family in Afyonkarahisar before 1915, about her ancestral home, about the trip to Izmir and the hasty flight from there, along with her aunt, in September of 1922. Looking back, I realize how very fortunate I am — I have this necessary and unbreakable connection with the generation of survivors,” he says.

(According to the Virtual Genocide Memorable website, “Armenians in Afyonkarahisar are first mentioned in the 16th-century Ottoman fiscal registers. The community, which was made up largely of members of the Armenian Apostolic Church, but later coming to include Evangelicals and Catholics as well, was situated in the center of the town. The city and its population grew steadily over the following centuries.”)

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Aghavni Kalfayan, nee Papazian, was born in June 1910 in the city of Afyonkarahisar, located in the center of western Anatolia between Izmir and Ankara. Her parents, Hakop and Takui, were members of the city’s bourgeoisie. A family of merchants, trading local products to Smyrna. They had five children, one of whom was adopted.

In spring 1915, Aghavni’s parents felt the imminent danger (more probably they had received an order to leave) and decided to entrust their youngest child to a maternal aunt, also named Aghavni. The aunt and the niece were supposed to go to Smyrna (now Izmir) to stay with Aghavni’s maternal grandmother Maria Muradian, but when they arrived at the Afyonkarahisar train station they nearly ended up on a train taking deported Armenians in the opposite direction, Konya, which was indeed the hub for deportation towards Syrian desert.

Luckily, one of the train station’s officials recognized them and knew of their relation to Mihran Topalian – Aghavni’s grandmother’s brother who held a high position in the railway company connecting Afyonkarahisar to Smyrna. Having telegraphed Topalian, the train station official, a Turkish national, put them on a train going to Smyrna. They were thus able to avoid the tragic fate that befell the rest of their relatives who stayed behind in Afyonkarahisar — all of them were allegedly killed or died during the deportation (Raffi considers them as forcibly disappeared people, a legal characterization that determines his struggling avenue for the reparation of Armenian Genocide). It wasn’t until after World War I, in 1919, that Aghavni was able to again see her parents’ house in Afyonkarahisar.

There was an Armenian-American officer, captain Hems (his real name was Ambartsum), who came to estimate the damages and identify the owners or their heirs (for this historical stage, refer to British Reports on Ethnic Cleansing in Anatolia, 1919-1922: The Armenian-Greek Section, Vol. 5 of Armenian Genocide and the Armenian Cause, documents compiled by Vartkes Yeghiayan). “From what remained in Aghavni’s memory, it was a bourgeois house, with an inner courtyard with a fountain. All their belongings were gone,” Raffi says. Aghavni never knew (she was 8) whether her remaining family got a compensation in her name.

Aghavni spent the war years with her grandmother Maria and her aunt in Izmir. “My grandmother went to the Armenian Hripsimyan girls’ school, where she learned Armenian and French, which she spoke without an accent — a rarity in her generation,” says Raffi. But in September 1922, Turkish nationalists, led by Mustapha Kemal, set fire to Smyrna to push out the Greek forces. They annihilated the city’s Armenian and Greek minorities. The massacres and forced relocation began anew for the12-year-old Aghavni. She lost her grandmother in the crowds rushing to the pier: a deep-anchored tearing for the teenager.

Fleeing the conflagration, Aghavni and her aunt tried to swim to safety on nearby boats. An Italian ship picked them up and delivered them to Piraeus in Greece. On October 24,1922, they are provided with a consular authorization to leave for France. They reached it on November 17, 1922 (as official document shows, Aghavni was presented as a sister instead of niece). One of Aghavni’s aunts, Satenik, was living in Arnouville, north of Paris. The new exile and the accumulated losses left an indelible mark on the orphaned girl’s life.

At age 19 Agavni married Haik Kalfayan, who was 16 years older. He had come to France from Istanbul in 1924. “Amazingly enough, my father was born exactly nine months after the wedding,” notes Raffi.

Raffi’s father, Andre Kalfayan, with his parents in Paris (est. 1939)

Raffi grew up in Paris and spent a lot of time at his grandparents’ house. “I was very much interested in the stories that my grandmother used to tell. As time went by, I began to delve deeper and deeper into this topic,” he says.

Raffi, who lost his father at 25, has developed in many ways a mother-son relationship with his grandmother. Aghavni died in 2003. Having spent her last hours by her side, Raffi realized how heavily the feelings she repressed weighed on her and how tormented she was by them. “The grief she felt for her family killed in 1915 showed me the severity of her trauma, the unbearable pain felt by those who survived the Armenian Genocide. On that day I promised myself that I will do all it takes to secure just satisfaction for these torments, and my personal and philosophical position hasn’t changed since,” Raffi says. He remains active and will remain as long as life permits.

“My grandmother was the only one of my grandparents to pass her personal story — the story of a majority of Armenian survivors — on to me. My grandmother’s story is especially precious because it comes from a direct source. Unlike younger generations, I enjoyed this vital, indestructible bond with the past. Her story and history shaped deeply my activities and struggles. I have been an activist since I was 17, and I will remain one. I struggle for justice and I am consistent in the defense of principles, irrespective of whom it may concern. I am still a rebel. I cannot stay passive,” he says. Raffi’s determination is, however, free of hatred or grudges toward the criminals and their heirs who continue to deny the Armenian Genocide. He believes that admission of guilt, irrespective of the crime qualification, is an “opportunity to free us from intolerable grief.”

At the same time, Raffi, who has been elaborating new legal and political avenues for reparations since 2012, doesn’t hide his anxiety: “I’m afraid that future generations, separated by time from those who lived in 1915, will erase the past clean. Time is against us. In 2015, it seemed that Turkey was ready to budge, however strange it may sound. However, since 2019, President Erdogan has changed his words: he no longer relativizes the crime but justifies it.”

Raffi’s message to Armenians worldwide is to never give up the struggle for demanding truth and reparations in a realistic way and with the correct legal grounds for the sufferings endured by the direct victims of the Armenian Genocide:

“Justice must be served. There is a very wide and actual movement in major countries for redressing historical injustices. This is the time to act. The best guarantee of non-repetition is the recognition of facts by the Turkish government. In opposition to what the incumbent Republic of Armenia ruling forces claim today, all the facts are known and detained by the Turkish side. The research and disclosure of those facts, the circumstances of the deaths or disappearances of people and lists of names can only be of their responsibility. The controversial legal characterization is less important.”

Inspired by the story of Aurora Mardiganian, an Armenian-American author, actress, and a survivor of the Armenian Genocide, and together with thousands of other accounts of courage and humanity, 100 LIVES seeks and shares the stories of Armenian Genocide survivors, their saviors, and descendants. In keeping with the spirit of the Aurora Humanitarian Initiative, each story is a reflection of a unique cycle taking a victim from surviving to thriving and giving back. To share your family’s history and story, contact:

https://auroraprize.com/en

https://auroraprize.com/en/100lives

For this story, go to: https://auroraprize.com/en/philippe-raffi-kalfayan

For other Armenian survivor stories, see: https://auroraprize.com/en/100lives/about

Philippe Raffi Kalfayan, PhD, is an associate researcher at the Human Rights Research Center at the University of Paris 2 Pantheon Assas, and a prominent figure in the Armenian diaspora. He has made it his life’s quest to defend human rights and works to eliminate barbarism, oppression, and cowardice in the world. For information about the influence Raffi’s family history has had on the decisions he has made, and his inspiration and his commitment, see: “The Armenian cause is a struggle for justice” at: https://auroraprize.com/en/raffi-kalfayan-the-armenian-cause-is-a-struggle-for-justice

“Afion-Karahisar had a population of 45,000 in 1914, 7,000 of whom were Turkish-speaking Armenians engaged primarily in handicrafts and commerce but with some serving as locksmiths, glassmakers, lawyers (representing foreign firms), chemists, and physicians. The community had two Armenian Apostolic churches, Surb Astvatsatsin and Surb Toros, one Armenian Evangelical church, six schools and a kindergarten, and a number of cultural institutions, including two libraries. Many Armenians were subjected to the persecutions of the Abdul Hamid era, and many more perished during the Genocide when they were deported in August 1915. Though the Church of Surb Astvatsatsin was vandalized during the Genocide, a part of the structure still exists.” See: “SANCAK AFYONKARAHISAR/NIKOPOLIS” at: https://www.virtual-genocide-memorial.de/region/the-black-sea-marmara-and-aegean-littorals-eastern-thrace-and-central-anatolia/bursa-prousa-vilayet-province/sancak-afyonkarahisar-nikopolis/

Also:

http://www.gutenberg-e.org/steuer/steuer/archive/AppendixA/Turkish%20Prison%20Camps/prison_shell.html?Afion_Karahissar

https://www.academia.edu/37451787/Perspectives_on_the_Ottoman_Armenian_Economy_of_Afyon_Karahisar_1875_1925

Contributed by Christine Vartanian Datian, The Armenian Mirror-Spectator Newspaper.

 

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