Surviving and Remembering: How Istanbul Commemorates the Armenian Genocide

The morning of 24 April 2015 dawned cloudy and grey over Istanbul. It was the 100th anniversary of the day that would change the course of history, as the Ottoman Empire began its systematic extermination of the Armenian population. Over the next few years, more than one and a half million Armenians would be brutally murdered or forced to flee their homes, in what is now recognized as one of the most horrific acts of genocide in modern history. And on that solemn day of 24 April, I was there, in Istanbul.

It was not an ordinary stroll, but a journey through time, and a chance to bear witness to the tragedy that had taken place a century ago. Traces of the unspeakable tragedy still resonate today, with echoes and cries for justice that remind us it is not a distant memory.

1915 has never truly faded from the collective consciousness of Turkey. For many years the Armenian Genocide and the underlying atrocities remained unspoken, hidden away from public discourse. Following Hrant Dink's murder in 2007, Turkish progressives and civil society began to break the silence, seeking forgiveness, and acknowledging the tragedy that had occurred a century ago.

As Turkish society grappled with the darkest chapters of its history, the topic of genocide - the last standing taboo in Turkey according to Taner Akçam - was brought out into the open, and even the President began to offer condolences to the descendants of Ottoman Armenian citizens who lost their lives during World War I. Yet, he hesitated to speak the truth about what had really happened. And his half-truth was perhaps even more disrespectful than the traditional total denial of the Armenian Genocide.

Recep’s favorite gata

During my time in Turkey, locals learning that I was from Armenia often asked what I thought about the events of 1915. I understood that the people in Turkey had been brainwashed with the official and distorted version of history. This official narrative upheld by the state dismissed any claims of wrongdoing or falsehood. A prime example of this can be seen in the ideological maxims attributed to Mustafa Kemal Atatürk, flashing on the walls of every Turkish school: “I am a Turk, honest and hardworking”. In a society, where people have been brought up with the belief that they are always right, the question began looming: “Yes, I am a Turk, but perhaps I am not always right?” At least the air in the morning of 24 April 2015 was charged with this doubt.

I used to have lengthy conversations with people who were previously indifferent to the Armenian traces in their hometowns, villages, and cities. One such debate was with a history graduate student, Recep, who was interested in the meaning of "kete". I soon realized that he was referring to the traditional Armenian pastry known as "gata". I told him that his favorite gata was most likely made by his grandmother according to a recipe from her Armenian neighbor, perhaps called Siranuysh.

A Local Perspective

Every year on April 24, hundreds attend commemoration events for the victims of the genocide, seeking to uncover their own overlapping but distinct history and find the truth through the traces left behind. While you may assume that these individuals are Armenians only or those with Armenian ancestry, that is not the case, far from it. In fact, there are a significant number of Turks and Kurds among them who have come to realize and feel ashamed of the actions of their ancestors.

People gather on Istiklal Avenue in the heart of Istanbul, holding up posters displaying pictures of the Armenian intellectuals who were killed during the Genocide and demanding recognition. They sit, talk, light candles, and listen to the song “Sarı Gelin” (Blond or fair-skinned bride) which was a favorite of Hrant Dink. This song, which is sung in various languages, seems to unite the peoples who are so close and similar to each other and yet so incompatible and different: Armenians, Turks, Kurds, and others, who once sang the praises of a beautiful bride. However, those brides were taken away from their grooms, from their fathers and their households. Their names were changed to erase their Armenian identity. Gohar became Gulizar, Hasmik became Handa, and Seda became Sabiha.

Tickets, please

Haydarpaşa station is a poignant location that always remembers April 24 in Istanbul. They sent the Armenian intellectuals into exile from that very station. Every year people also gather at that station to honor the memory of the intellectuals who lost their lives. These people had a significant and undeniable impact on the development of Turkish literature, art, and public thought.

I vividly remember my conversation with one of the participants of the event, Batuhan, who wondered what would have happened if, instead of Armenians, the Kurds were subjected to genocide a hundred years ago. Batuhan believed that Turkey would be a completely different state of different quality and level today. I was shocked by the cold rationality of this argumentation that just couldn’t make do without genocide at all. Why would someone need to replace Armenians with Kurds? Just to appease me? Did he think I would be flattered? When the emotions subdued, I realized I was wrong: he had never meant anything like that. His consciousness was simply stigmatized by the ubiquitous presence of the crime against humanity. His mind couldn’t escape the genocidal trap. This was the most unique form of acknowledgment of the Armenian Genocide flying into the face of the deniers. Batuhan was obsessed with the idea of undoing the gravest crime committed by his ancestors. I have also pondered what would have happened if the genocide had never occurred. Unfortunately, history does not provide answers to such questions.

The events of 1915 that led to the Armenian Genocide have been controversially discussed by Turkish historians who justify them in various ways. According to their criminal argumentation, the Ottoman government decided to deport Armenians in self-defense, fearing that they would secede from the empire as other Balkan peoples had done.

Professor Halil, a Turkish lecturer who held exactly this view, once told me that Armenians were preparing to backstab the Turks. However, this contradicted the well-established characterization of Armenians as a ‘millet-i sadika’ or ‘loyal nation’, of the Ottoman Empire. At any rate, no one has ever canceled the right to self-defense in the face of imminent threat. The Ottoman Empire and its official ideology, especially at its sunset, have constantly been a threat to Armenians and many other minorities. Backstab or not Armenians did have the fundemental right to self-defense and self-determinations. Empires, on the other hand, have this interesting tendency of going down eventually.

The Armenian Genocide was hinged on a deliberate and detailed plan to exterminate the Armenians, as evidenced by the death orders issued by the Ottoman government. Renowned Turkish historian Taner Akçam has extensively researched the Armenian Genocide and asserts that it was a planned and premeditated act. Despite different excuses given by historians, it was, in fact, a Genocide, a shameful and heinous crime against humanity.

Ne mutlu Türküm diyene! (Happy is the one who says 'I am a Turk')

Turkish society is slowly starting to confront its past and recognize the events of 1915, but the majority is still unwilling to face the truth. Turkish nationalism and statehood are built on a foundation of heroic myths and a spotless history. Accepting the events of 1915 as genocide would shatter this idealized vision of the nation’s history. Turkish identity is closely tied to the notion of heroic victory crowned with the Lausanne agreement in 1923. Many sincerely believe that there were no defeats or failures throughout Turkish history. Additionally, the idea of being Turkish is exclusive and does not recognize the existence of other religions, nations, or cultures as equals. Despite these challenges, the struggle for recognition continues, and recognition is inevitable.

The Turkish question

“I have always been convinced that the Armenian Genocide is not only the great wound and tragedy of the Armenian people and the Armenian history. It is equally the great loss of Turkish people and Turkish history. There is no Armenian question, there is only a Turkish question that has not been resolved to this day. That question continues to haunt generations. It seems to have become a psychological phenomenon in Turkish society.” It is not for nothing that Garo Paylan, an Armenian member of the Turkish Parliament, keeps insisting that the proper forum for the deliberations over the Armenian Genocide is the Turkish Parliament.

The Turks must recognize and condemn the sins of their ancestors. Even if all the UN member states unanimously recognize the genocide, that would be not enough since the wounds would never heal until and unless the perpetrator repents. Hrant Dink was also convinced that Turks and Armenians are the only appropriate doctors for each other: Turks are experiencing a hundred-year-old paranoia, and Armenians are suffer a never-ending trauma. Only these two peoples can heal each other according to Dink. Did the Turkish government grasp and digest the subtle wisdom of Dink’s ideas? I believe they did. But they chose to have him murdered instead, following the steps of Erdogan’s favorite padishah Abdul Hamid II, who also was a strong believer in killing rather than finding solutions.

Istanbul seagulls

Living in Istanbul rarely made me feel like a stranger. I felt like I had always belonged there from the moment I arrived. I became fluent in Turkish quickly as if the language had been buried deep within all along. I can’t help but wonder if this sense of familiarity is due to some 'genetic memory' - after all, my ancestors were loyal Ottoman Armenians too. It often felt as though I had returned to a place that was always mine, where others had been living in my absence.

As Hrant Dink once said, Turks and Armenians are close yet distant neighbors. We share a complex history and culture, and our paths are often intertwined. This is especially palpable on 24 April, a day of great significance for both Turks and Armenians. Despite the painful memories and ongoing struggles, there is a sense of shared humanity and recognition which cannot be denied. I believe that it is only by acknowledging the past and embracing our interconnectedness that we can move toward a more peaceful and just future.

Is denying the Armenian genocide truly easier than acknowledging it? It may seem so, but for Turkey, denying this unspeakable tragedy is a heavy burden that can be neither shouldered nor lifted unless the society led by its officials and intellectuals demonstrates a true commitment. Facing the truth is a difficult and painful process, yet it is the only way for Turkey to overcome the ghosts of its own past and move forward. Even though only a small number of conscious Turks gather on Istanbul’s Istiklal Avenue on 24 April to commemorate the Armenian Genocide, this number is bound to grow, as there is no way around it.

Confronting the atrocities of the past is an arduous task, but it is essential for the remaining Armenians in Turkey. While those in the Diaspora and Armenia mourn the Genocide from a distance, the Armenians in Turkey live with the daily repercussions of denial. It is a harrowing experience to live within a society, which constantly questions one's identity. Where being Ohan is overshadowed by being Orhan, and being Arminé is erased to become Eminé. And do think twice before scolding on them for living in Turkey: that’s their home, Armenians had been living on that soil long before the Byzantine and the Ottoman Empires emerged.