Staring in the Face of Geopolitics.

We were gathered together under a hot July sun as a sample representation of diasporans from all over the world. As we all stared at a small plateau across from a picturesque gorge towards some historic ruins, I couldn't help but notice the somber intensity of geopolitics weighing in at every wistful moment. We were quite the diverse group, varying across the spectrum of physical traits and cultural influences. What unified us at that single moment was a shared experience of the disquieting nature present at a very personal level when history, politics and geography combine to prevent access to that which you feel should be yours.

Ani was once a magnificent city located on a protective plateau in historic Armenia. During the Baghratuni dynasty, approximately a thousand years ago, Ani's population and status grew to that of the largest city in Armenia. It became a cultural and religious center for Armenians, at a time when the Byzantine Empire and the Arab world were attempting to coerce and at times forcefully pressure Armenia into submission. Under the strong Baghratuni leadership, Ani became a formidable city, with a population of 100,000, hundreds of churches (also known as the city of a 1001 churches), large contingents of soldiers, and defensive walls that had gates radiating all over the compass headings. The Byzantine Empire, feeling threatened by Armenia's re-emergence as a regional power on its Eastern flank, began to withdraw its financial and military support that had allowed Armenia to check the advance of Arabs and the then migrating Turkish tribes. With numerous political games eventually successful, Ani, and all of Armenia in general fell to the nomadic Turkish tribes. Although Ani for a time remained as a functioning Armenian city, all was completely lost with the invasion of the mongols, and concluding with Timurlane's conquests of Asia minor. Jumping forward approximately 500 years, Ani was an abandoned reminder of the once mighty Armenian nation. As the 20th century rolled around, and the Ottoman Turk's brutal campaign against the Armenian population culminated in the Armenian Genocide of 1915-1923, what remained of Armenia was swallowed into the Soviet Union. The Soviets, attempting to appease the Turks, then handed over the Kars province, where Ani was situated, to the modern nation of Turkey. With the Iron Curtain thickly drawn, the borders were forcefully guarded and all that had remained of Ani continued to deteriorate. There were no attempts at restoration until recently, and many of the buildings and historical architecture present were damaged, mutilated, and erased of any history that can trace it back to historic Armenia. Today, Ani is a tourist attraction next to a small Kurdish village. The Kurds provide access and false information to tourists who wish to visit the ruins.

We stood across the Turkish border in the hot summer breeze and saw the tourists in their cars and buses coming and going through Ani as though it was their living rooms. The most unsettling experience of all was when the Islamic prayer, approximately 1420 Armenian time, rolled around in Ani, and we were helpless to watch and listen across the Akhuryan gorge. It was our history, our home, the blood of our ancestors that were shed on that soil, and yet, here we were, staring at Kurds, and tourists, with a prayer that was so foreign, and yet, so tragically familiar.

On the Armenian side of the border, we were free to be ourselves. We spoke with the soldiers stationed to guard the border, who were happy for anyone to break the monotony of staring at nearly nothingness. A thousand years ago, this area was thriving in activity, the likes of which even Yerevan doesn't see. In a seemingly small encompassing region, to have so many people, and so many churches is practically unbelievable. The few churches left standing are in such decayed ruins that one moderate earthquake, or a few more years of Turkish neglect will just about completely erase. Obviously, the archaeological record beneath the top layer of the surface can allow direct access to the origins of the city, but Ani as it was when it was abandoned at its height is now completely erased. Yet, I noticed that there were some defensive walls on the Armenian side. They seemed to have surrounded a large outcropping, and could have been Cyclopian walls that were meant to surround a defensive fort looking out across the Akhuryan gorge (on the Armenian side of the border) of Ani. Yet, these walls were in the same state of ruin as those across the Akhuryan. These walls obviously had no archaeological treatment and their historical use probably remains a mystery. Knowing that this particular segment that's in Armenia is neglected, our pressure towards Turkey for maintaining Ani can easily fall on deaf ears. Although I can't quite say this is hypocritical, because Armenia's small budget is already stretched as thin as possible, and perhaps there are buffer zone issues and permits that are inaccessible for the archaeology, preservation, and maintenance required. Turkey on the other hand, has placed regulations so strict, that it makes it nearly impossible to renovate historic churches, and Armenian landmarks. Although they claim to be a democracy, it's obvious that their continued neglect and active destruction of Armenian history is continuous to modern cultural genocide. Thanks to geopolitics however, Turkey is still coddled by the United States and any cultural and human rights abuses are mostly forgotten. Due to its strategic location, even Russia, is courting Turkey and keeping the antagonism to a minimum. As has been the case since World War I, mass crimes continue to be forgotten. The world may be ignorant, and Turkey may actively try to forget, but we, on this side of the Akhuryan river will never forget, we'll always remember history as it was, and although there's much to do in Armenia to bring it on par with respectful standards, we don't have to try to stand on the shoulders of giants...we already do. Our ancestors, and their continued survival proves that we are the proud inheritors of their free will to survive and thrive. We're not just hapless victims of countless genocides, but active participants in the global community, who must sometimes swim against the current to uphold our place within it.