by Tamina Kutscher
In September 2023, Azerbaijan launched a military offensive in Nagorno-Karabakh, which resulted in the exodus of the Armenian population – more than 100,000 people had to leave their homeland. During our time in Yerevan we met social anthropologist Eviya Hovhannisyan, who also works at the local office of the Heinrich Böll Foundation. In our talk, she reflects on the hidden dynamics and tensions within the country, the politics of memory, and the cautious hope for peace, pondering how the wounds of a turbulent history can truly heal, and what steps are necessary to build bridges between the peoples of Armenia and Azerbaijan.
Today, many people claim that Armenian society is quite polarized, including on the issue of Karabakh. Do you share this view?
I would say that there are several poles, not just like north versus south or something like democrats and autocrats. I think it’s a bit more diverse and more complicated.
The society is somewhat polarized on the issue of Karabakh. There are Armenians from Karabakh who still dream of going back, but the political reality is that it’s not going to happen anytime soon. On the other hand, there are some social groups that just don’t want to hear about Karabakh anymore.
Another area of polarization in our society is the demarcation issue. Some people are really happy that this is finally happening, though the number is still quite small. But there are also those strongly opposing this, as they don’t agree with the current situation on the borders and also the fact that Azerbaijan has invaded some parts of Armenia’s sovereign territory. So many people claim that we cannot have any peace process, any demarcation, or any agreement with Azerbaijan until they withdraw their forces to the border agreed upon in 1993, at the very least.
Armenia is now trying to diversify its security, economy, and other areas to somehow get away from Russia. And this shift is another issue of polarization in society: some people are still used to having Russia as a ‘big brother’ behind them, while others no longer trust Russia and are looking more towards Europe and the West. So all these things create many different poles within Armenian society.
Is there a generation gap when it comes to Armenia’s relations with Russia?
It’s true that people who were born and grew up in the Soviet Union and recall all those cultural and social ties to it are still deeply attached to Russia. They still believe that Russia is our main partner in the region and security guarantor. The fact that many people migrated to Russia for labor opportunities after the collapse of the Soviet Union also plays a role.
What about Karabakh Armenians?
Karabakh Armenians continue to largely support Russia – regardless of the irresponsible – let’s call it that way- actions of Russian peacekeepers in the region last year, Russia’s attitude towards this issue, its relations with Azerbaijan and even the Russian invasion of Ukraine.
This support also has some historical roots, though I would put it in quotes, as the term ‘historical’ could be questioned. But Karabakh Armenians have very close ties with the Armenian community in Russia. This has definitely had an impact on the attitudes and narratives in the Karabakh Armenian community.
There is also a political layer: the Karabakh Armenian community still partly supports Robert Kocharyan, who is from Karabakh…
… The former President of Armenia, from 1998 to 2008…
… His business is directly linked to Russia, and he always had Russian support during his presidency. So all these factors strongly influence the attitudes in society.
And, of course, Russian media narratives play a role, making their way into society through various channels with messages like European values introducing, I don’t know, some immoral things or jeopardizing centuries-old values we’ve maintained. All these things continue to matter in our society.
What is the attitude towards Karabakh Armenians?
The support for Karabakh Armenians is quite strong, but there are also some tensions, especially regarding economic issues. This has become especially visible after the influx of Russians into Armenia since February 2022, which led to a significant rise in prices—apartments, food and so on.
The average salary is around 600 to 700 euros which is lower compared to the salaries in Karabakh. For instance, a teacher in Armenia earned half the salary of a teacher in Karabakh, as they were living in that dangerous environment. So these tensions related to economic issues create an environment with interplay of stereotypes.
Even during the war, there was a narrative that only local Armenians were fighting for Karabakh. But that’s false and manipulated. Almost every Karabakh Armenian has a relative who died in the war.
You’ve just mentioned the Russian exile community, most of whom arrived in Armenia after Russia’s full-scale invasion of Ukraine in 2022. What’s the attitude towards this community in Armenia?
It’s really interesting. I’ve discussed this also at the CSN Lab [Cultural & Social Narratives Laboratory is a Yerevan-based platform engaged in memory studies and memory activism, cultural rights, urban and public spaces, etc.] that Armenians are so relaxed about Russians, compared to Georgians, for example. In Georgia, the pain of the 2008 war is still there, and that’s understandable. But in Armenia we never had that discourse. While the Russian war in Ukraine has caused considerable pain in Armenia, and we’ve recently had our war, there is no hatred towards Russians within Armenian society. The attitude is more rational, even though prices have jumped severalfold. Russians are unlikely to stay here anyway. We already see that the Russian community is getting smaller and smaller, and this will continue. Armenia is not as attractive to them as Georgia.
Many people I’ve talked to share a sense of exhaustion with war and fighting. They are critical of all political parties, and it seems like they have somehow given up on any political engagement.
I think this fatigue, at least the way I feel it, started in 2018, after the revolution. Even then, I felt that people were fed up with politics. Then came COVID, followed by the war, and the Karabakh exodus… All these events have somehow emotionally weakened our society, which is why people are tired. Perhaps they are not happy with the current ruling party, but there is no alternative. We’ve seen Bishop Bagrat Galstanyan, who is now leading the opposition protests in Yerevan. People around this churchman say they will go fight again and bring back Karabakh. But that’s not possible. First of all, because we have no resources – either human or military. And secondly, the majority of people don’t want to fight anymore. Our society is really small, and almost everyone has lost someone in the war—either in their family or close circle of relatives or friends. We have seen this twice in 30 years. Today, most people in our society are somehow ready to open the borders [with Turkey and Azerbaijan]. They might not be ready to go to Baku the next day, but at least to start this process and move towards the normalization of relations in the region. At least that’s what I can feel in society.
What is the reason for this feeling?
In 2020, for instance, when the war broke out, it was nearly impossible to talk about peace. I’m closely connected to the peacebuilding community, and at that time we heard numerous accusations, for example, that we were betraying our country. But now it’s possible to talk about peace quite openly, although some ultra-nationalists might still level accusations. Armenians from Karabakh are also open to talking about peace.
When it comes to peace and the process of rapprochement with Azerbaijan and Turkey, the memory of the 1915 Genocide, during which more than 1 million Armenians were killed in the Ottoman Empire, remains quite strong.
Well, the genocide narrative is largely a state-owned, official one. It started in the 1960s as a narrative imposed by the Soviet state to control Armenian society and at the same time the impact of the Armenian diaspora on the Soviet Armenian Republic. This should be clearly stated. I was lucky that in my school we discussed different narratives and approaches to remembering the Genocide. It is undeniable that Turks were the perpetrators and, of course, it was horrendous. However, we should also consider the global political context of that time. It was World War I, and Armenians found themselves caught between these two big states, Tsarist Russia and the Ottoman Empire, and were just used by both of them for their own political purposes. And we know that after the Genocide, other groups, even Muslims, suffered persecution as well: In the 1930s, during the Dersim massacre, Turks killed several thousand Kurds.
At the official level, this topic is not discussed in Armenia, as it falls under the politics of memory.
Are there any different memories in society?
When we talk about family narratives, it’s completely different. There are many stories of Kurds and even Turks helping Armenians to escape. Books have been written about this, but they remain personal family memories.
It’s also important to consider that right after the Genocide, this rather large portion of memory was simply forgotten or silenced. That generation avoided discussing their pain, especially those who resettled in Lebanon, Syria, Iran or Western countries. And it wasn’t until some time after World War II that their stories began to be collected by the government. It was somehow useful to introduce this meta-narrative into Armenian society. However, its introduction is also quite problematic, since such an expansive meta-narrative usually obscures the small ones, making it difficult for us to see the details within the Karabakh conflict or Armenian-Turkish and Armenian-Azerbaijani relations. We see everything through this lens of victim and perpetrator.
What stories should be more emphasized instead?
As an anthropologist, I find it more interesting to listen to everyday stories —those small, tiny things we usually just turn a blind eye to. For example, the Armenian community in Azerbaijan, their everyday practices would be more interesting for me to discuss: how people worked in the same factory during the Soviet period, how Armenian women interacted with Azerbaijani women and other smaller ethnic groups on the territory of Azerbaijan. Their interactions, their shared practices feel more human, closer to us than big politics. I would much rather talk about these things. And I would prefer to discuss with our children in schools, universities how certain events in history became dominant narratives, while others were just silenced or overlooked.
I know you are in contact with activists in Azerbaijan. Is it possible to actually do projects together?
To some extent, it is still possible. But after the arrest of Azerbaijani peace activist Bahruz Samadov in Azerbaijan in mid-August, it has become even more difficult. Many people on the Azerbaijani side who were really open and active in working with us are now facing threats in Azerbaijan. Nobody wants to be imprisoned for betraying their country. It is really hard. Some people have been called to the police to talk about their activities during interactions with Armenians. And of course people are afraid. In Georgia, for example, it is still possible for Armenian and Azerbaijani activists to meet. But with the victory of the Georgian Dream, I’m afraid it’s only a matter of time before this opportunity ends.
What is the impact of the Georgian Dream’s victory on Armenian civil society?
Being surrounded by non-democratic regimes, Armenia will not survive alone. That’s not possible. Many democratic developments, like visa liberalization, came to Armenia through Georgia. Now I’m afraid that the law on foreign financing will come to Armenia in a few years. We’ll see.
Talking about geopolitical circumstances, there are a lot of threats: the Russian war in Ukraine, the conflict in Gaza… How do these events affect society?
It’s hard to measure. I think the wider society is not following events like the UN COP29 climate summit in Baku. But of course, if the wars in Gaza, Lebanon continue, and a bigger war spreads on Iran, society is following these developments, and there is a certain feeling of threat due to Azerbaijan’s support for Israel. There are discussions that if Israel strikes Iran, then Azerbaijan could easily take, for example, Syunik region [southernmost province of Armenia, bordered also by Azerbaijan’s Nakhchivan Autonomous Republic exclave]. If Iran enters a larger war, it won’t be able or willing to do anything on its northern border to protect Armenia. And we can’t predict how Russia will react in this situation.
Since Israel supports Azerbaijan [Azerbaijan supplies approximately 40% of Israel’s oil demand], Armenia’s relations with Israel are not in a very positive state. Armenia is one of the countries that recognized Palestine, and Armenians are more supportive of Palestinians, and of Lebanon. This is due to the presence of quite a large Armenian community in Lebanon, which includes people who have migrated from the Syrian war. So we may even expect another migration flow from Lebanon to Armenia if the situations worsens. So, yes, these geopolitical challenges are indeed complicated and multifaceted.
Do you think that a peace agreement and a change in the political landscape might also have an impact on memory, remembrance, and heroization?
There will probably still be a difference between the personal stories told in our families and the official narrative.
I remember the words of a friend’s mother when her son died during the war. While everyone was trying to console her, by saying, “Your son is a hero, you should be proud,” she responded, “I don’t need a hero. I want my son.” This reflects how many women and mothers who have lost their sons, husbands, and other loved ones in war feel about this heroization.
I know many people and organizations in Azerbaijan, and I am aware that they don’t want another war either.
No one is suggesting that we should immediately express our love to each other. However, let’s start with very simple, everyday things like trade, agriculture… together, without killing each other, without violence in the region. Through these everyday experiences, people could deconstruct the image of evil on the other side.
This article was published within the frames of “Correspondents in Conflict” Project,
implemented by Yerevan Press Club and Deutsche Gesellschaft e. V. The Project is
funded by the German Federal Foreign Office within the “Eastern Partnership Program”.
The contents of this article are the sole responsibility of the implementing partners and can in
no way be taken to reflect the views of the Federal Foreign Office. #civilsocietycooperation
Tamina Kutscher is a Slavicist, historian and freelance journalist. For many years she has been dealing with media, politics and society in Central and Eastern Europe with a special focus on Russia. As an expert, she comments in Deutschlandfunk Kultur and in various German TV formats (ZDFinfo, Deutsche Welle). From 2016 to 2023, she was editor-in-chief of the German online platform “dekoder.org – Russland und Belarus entschlüsseln”. Previously, Tamina carried out numerous research and media projects in Central and Eastern Europe and Central Asia – as editor of the international journalist network n-ost, where she is a member of the board today. She is a lecturer at the department for Journalism at Magdeburg-Stendal University of Applied Sciences, and generally interested in any project at the interface of journalism and science.
