Dr. Taner Akcam, at left, with Wolfgang Gust in Hamburg, Germany

In Memory of Wolfgang Gust (April 9, 1935 – June 11, 2026)

193
0

By Taner Akçam

Some people remain largely invisible and little known, yet they are the principal actors behind the scenes. They are creators and builders. The most fitting description for them is that they are “worker bees.” Our field has lost one of its finest worker bees: Wolfgang Gust. I would like to say a few words about him and share some lesser-known aspects of his remarkable life and work.

I received the news of Wolfgang Gust’s passing on 11 June, just as I was about to board my flight. I was scheduled to be in Hamburg from 12 to 16 June and had been looking forward to seeing Wolfgang and his beloved wife, Sigrid. Sadly, that visit was never to happen.

I first met Wolfgang Gust toward the end of 1991. At the time, he was a journalist with Der Spiegel. He was then preparing a series of articles on the ongoing war in Nagorno-Karabakh, which appeared in the magazine in 1992. We quickly became close friends.

Dr. Taner Akcam, at left, with Wolfgang Gust in Hamburg, Germany

Our friendship developed to the point that, in May 1993, thanks to Wolfgang’s support, one of my own articles was published in Der Spiegel. Around the same time, after seventeen years in exile, I returned permanently to Turkey. One of my greatest ambitions was to establish a documentation center covering the period from 1876 to 1940.

My Turkish adventure, however, did not last long. When I was forced to leave the country in 1997, Wolfgang and I met again in Hamburg. He had just retired — or was about to retire — and was searching for a new direction.

Get the Mirror in your inbox:

“I may work on the peace treaties signed in Paris in 1919 and 1920,” he told me. He was particularly interested in the treaties concluded with the so-called “small nations,” such as Yugoslavia, Hungary, Czechoslovakia, and Poland.

During one of our conversations, I mentioned that I possessed a collection of German Foreign Office documents relating to the Armenian Genocide, covering the years 1914–1918, which I had purchased for the Documentation Center I had hoped to establish in Turkey.

“If you’d like, you can take a look at them,” I said.

He replied that he would be delighted to examine them if I were willing to lend him the entire collection.

The documents were on microfilm and required a special reader. Simply in order to study them, Wolfgang purchased a microfilm reader.

Then he made a decision that, at the time, seemed almost unimaginable. He would digitize the German documents and make them freely available online for everyone. At the same time, he decided to undertake a comprehensive study of Germany’s role in the Armenian Genocide.

The idea sounded simple enough, but formidable obstacles stood in the way. First, placing hundreds—indeed thousands — of documents online raised serious copyright concerns. Wolfgang had to resolve these issues with the Archive of the German Foreign Office. At the time, website technology was still in its infancy, and there were significant technical challenges to overcome. Moreover, another crucial question remained: according to what scholarly standards should these documents be digitized and presented online so that historians could trust and use them?

I have never encountered anyone who worked with Wolfgang’s combination of meticulousness and perseverance. With the patience of an ant and the diligence of a worker bee, he overcame every one of these obstacles. He did far more than simply read the documents. In order to make them fully searchable and easily accessible, he had each document painstakingly transcribed.

Beyond the collection I had lent him, he purchased many additional documents himself, financing the entire undertaking from his retirement savings without seeking support from anyone.

Determined to ensure that the online archive would meet the highest scholarly standards, Wolfgang consulted numerous historians about the best methods of presenting the documents. An Armenian computer specialist, Vagharshak Lalayan, volunteered to develop a custom software platform for the project. The result was nothing short of extraordinary.

I would encourage everyone to visit this website in memory of Wolfgang Gust: http://www.armenocide.de/arme…/armgende.nsf/WebStart-En

What began as a digital archive of German Foreign Office documents relating to the Armenian Genocide of 1914–1918 gradually expanded to include a wealth of other original source materials. Among them are the original records of the League of Nations Home for Armenian women and children orphaned in the aftermath of the genocide in Aleppo, as well as the official records of the 1919–1922 Istanbul trials of the Committee of Union and Progress, published in Takvim-i Vekayi.

Over time, the archive also incorporated virtually every significant collection of documents relating to the 1909 Adana massacres, the 1913–1914 Armenian Reform negotiations, and Germany’s Orientpolitik.

Because Wolfgang read virtually every document with extraordinary care, he was able to solve several mysteries that had long puzzled those of us working in this field. The first concerned the authenticity of the German official documents published by the German Protestant pastor Johannes Lepsius during the Paris Peace Conference in an effort to demonstrate that Germany had played no role in the Armenian massacres.

For decades, questions had surrounded Lepsius’s volume, which contains nearly 450 German diplomatic documents and has long been one of the principal source collections for scholars of the Armenian Genocide. Historians who compared a handful of documents with the originals had noticed discrepancies between the official German records and the versions published by Lepsius.

The first serious investigation into the matter was undertaken by Vahakn Dadrian. He even interviewed Lepsius’s surviving secretary and concluded that Lepsius himself had not falsified the documents. Yet the central question remained unanswered: Were these really the original documents? If not, who had altered them?

Wolfgang’s painstaking research finally resolved the mystery.

The documents had indeed been tampered with. The principal responsibility lay with the German Foreign Office itself. Before sending the documents to Lepsius, officials had edited them, deleted passages, and in some cases substantially revised entire documents. Lepsius himself also made a number of minor alterations, but these were comparatively insignificant beside the extensive changes introduced by the Foreign Office. The underlying objective was clear: to demonstrate that Germany had played no role in the Armenian massacres. Lepsius willingly participated in this effort, having himself begun to work voluntarily for German military intelligence during the final years of the war.

Wolfgang presented his findings in a lengthy study, placing the altered versions alongside the originals for all scholars to examine. Yet this was only one of the major contributions he made.

A second fundamental question remained: What had Germany’s actual role been during the massacres? Had it advised the Ottoman government and acted as a direct architect of the genocide? Or was its involvement limited to helping conceal the crimes because Germany and the Ottoman Empire were wartime allies?

Drawing together an enormous body of documentary evidence, Wolfgang published his monumental study in 2005. In the book’s extensive introduction, he essentially resolved this question as well. Germany’s involvement went beyond reluctantly helping to cover up the massacres simply because they were politically inconvenient. Although there were important differences of opinion between the German Foreign Office and the German General Staff, it was ultimately the latter that determined German policy. And the German General Staff was, by and large, not particularly troubled by what was being done to the Armenians.

Wolfgang’s book, originally published in German, was later translated into both English and Turkish with the support of the Zoryan Institute in Canada. The online archive was expanded accordingly, making the German Foreign Office documents available to researchers in all three languages. By then, very little mystery remained concerning Germany’s role. Everything was there, readily accessible to anyone who wished to examine the evidence. Anyone interested in the subject could visit the website and read the documents in the language of their choice.

And so our field has lost one of its finest worker bees.

Whenever I came to Hamburg, I made a point of visiting him. I would like to include the accompanying photograph as a small remembrance. This time, however, I was not granted the chance to see him one last time.

Dear Wolfgang,

You left us at the age of ninety-one, but the archive you created will endure. As one of its regular visitors, I know that every time I return to those pages, I will remember you and the extraordinary legacy you left behind.

Truth comes to light only because of people like you — patient, tireless workers in the service of truth.

Rest in peace.

(The Turkish version of this article appears in medyascope.tv.)

Get the Mirror-Spectator Weekly in your inbox: