Armen Manuk-Khaloyan, UCLA
 |
| Çengiler, drawn by Karpis Papoujian based on his childhood memory Source: Sona Derebeyian, Hushamatian Chenkileri Hayots’, 1528-1923 |
Students of late Ottoman history are familiar with the plight of the muhacirs, the Muslim refugees who fled the Balkans and Russia during the course of the the nineteenth and twentieth centuries and settled in the Ottoman Empire. Hailing from regions as diverse as Rumelia, the Crimea, and the northern Caucasus region of the Russian Empire, the muhacirs usually arrived destitute, bringing with them what little they could carry. Civil strife, war, and strict immigration policies had compelled them to emigrate and find refuge in a land whose rulers were Muslim, but whose climate and society were not necessarily the same and whose spoken language was more often than not foreign to them.[1]
Though the muhacirs received a sympathetic welcome from the state, their settlement in the empire was unorganized and erratic, at best. Many came to establish themselves in the lands in the Arab Levant and, as the empire hemorrhaged more and more territory, throughout the span of Anatolia. Whether through deliberate government policy or pure happenstance, significant muhacir communities also popped up in towns and cities with sizeable Armenian populations. Contemporary observers were quick to notice the dramatic heightening of tension, between, on the one hand, a Christian community that, though considered second-class, was relatively well-off and, on the other, an impoverished and resentful group of Muslim refugees who had fled their homes and just barely escaped with their lives. Muhacir seizures of Armenian land and violent clashes between the groups were not uncommon.
The role of the muhacirs as perpetrators in the massacres of 1894-96 and the 1915 genocide has been noted by scholars, but the following excerpt provides a rare glimpse of how one small Armenian village, that of Çengiler, situated near the Sea of Marmara, confronted the disturbances caused by Circassian refugees from the North Caucasus region during the wake of the 1878 Russo-Turkish war. It is noteworthy that, following their arrival in the heavily Turkish- and Greek-populated Izmit region during the sixteenth century, the the Armenians of Çengiler had almost immediately sparred with their Muslim neighbors in order to secure themselves in their new homeland. Self-styled “daredevils” (ktrichner/կտրիճներ), they seem to have been imbued with a martial spirit rarely seen in the Armenian communities, a striking fact as there was a historically strong disinclination on the part of the empire’s non-Muslim minorities to resist against the encroachments made against their life and property.[2]
This excerpt was taken from the memorial volume (hushamatyan/յուշամատյան) on Çengiler written by Sona Derebeyian in 1973.[3] Such tomes were authored by professional historians like the prolific Arshag Alboyajian, as well as survivors of the genocide, who collected as much data on history, culture and folklore about the former towns and cities they once called home. It is revealing that the narrative presented in the volumes is not as one-sided as to leave the reader with the impression that the Armenians merely lived passively in the empire and were persecuted until their final uprooting in 1915. Theirs was an oppressed but culturally vibrant community and one whose sons and daughters played roles in various facets of Ottoman life. It was perhaps out of a desire to demonstrate that Armenian history was not simply an interminable tale of sorrow and suffering that such stories found their way into the pages of these memorial volumes.
It is significant to understand the memorial volumes as an opportunity finally to reflect and pass judgment freely on the Armenian experience in the Ottoman Empire. Even after decades following its dissolution, Derebeyian viewed the empire through at least two different prisms. Though she made references to shrines of saints that both Christians and Muslims venerated and other aspects of shared culture, she also spoke disparagingly of Turks, saying they “ate, ate, and their hunger for the innumerable goods of the Armenians was never satiated.”[4] By telling this story, Derebeyian seems to say that the Armenians of Çengiler, much like the fiercely independent Armenians of Zeyt’un and Sasun, refused to submit and were capable of being as ruthless as their adversaries. The text is thus colored with pride in the building of churches and schools as much as in the taking up of arms and the brutal defeat of foes and enemies.
Though Derebeyian does not give an explicit source, this detailed account was most likely a story told and passed down among the inhabitants of Çengiler. Here is a complete translation of the account (click here for a PDF of the original)
A Heroic War
As a result of the second Russo-Turkish war of 1877-78, the
government settled Circassian refugees from Russia on private lands belonging
to the people of Çengiler, without so much as warning or announcement.
The newcomers not only seized orchards, valleys and pastoral
grounds, but began to harass the Christian community, and particularly [the
individual] closest to them, the private landowner, whose life became
increasingly unbearable, as numerous appeals to the government were sent out in
vain. The Turks of Pazar found the opportunity ideal to uproot and eliminate
Çengiler’s population, and so they armed 300 half-savage Circassians so that
they could subject the peaceful population to massacre. The people of Çengiler,
upon finding out about the impending calamity, consulted with Father Ter
Karapet Karapetian and under his leadership agreed with one voice to defend
themselves with clubs, axes, knives and, especially, cleverness.
The priest [Ter Hayr]
asked that sheep be sacrificed and that a richly decorated table be prepared,
complete with pitchers of wine and arak
to welcome the murderers.
Out of fright, the villagers took to locking themselves in their
homes, and diligently waited for the Ter Hayr’s order to unleash the struggle
for life and death…
When 300 of the dreaded armed murderers – beasts in human form –
approached the village, our courageous priest went forth to welcome them and
offered them a hearty meal and drinks set on opulently adorned tables. Without
giving them time [to answer], he ordered that the cups be filled and the khorotiks to be distributed. The
villagers obediently and attentively served the wine and arak.
The scoundrels, having had their fill, began to ask for vile and
repulsive things and made demands for youthful maidens and brides.
The priest and the villagers quarreled with one another momentarily
and after a short discussion told them that they had a few women, but said that
they would have to leave the table one by one and go. They agreed to do so, and
as one of them passed under a flight of stairs he was felled and so were
hundreds in this way. After some time passed and they realized that those who
were leaving were not returning, they became suspicious and protested.
While they were still busy drinking, the priest had ordered their
horses and weapons to be seized and given to arm the Armenian youth. When the
priest gave the attack signal, the scene changed completely. The knaves, unable
to defend themselves, fell down on their knees and began to kiss the priest’s
feet, expressing a thousand regrets for their crime, and swore it was not they
but others who had provoked them to go and kill the Armenian villagers. Now
that they understood that they were brave and good-natured people, they swore
from hereon in to respect their neighbors. The boys were relentlessly pummeling
them while the priest was crying out in Turkish, “Vurma, vurmayın” (Don’t hit
them) and repeating in Greek, “Ikhdipa, ıkhdipa” (Strike them, strike them).
This terrible, hellish scene that was part of a harrowing battle
for self-defense and survival lasted until 10 o’clock in the evening, on a
wintry day in 1878.
The remainder of the enemy, frightened and barefooted, was put to
flight, while the priest ordered that the 254 bodies of the enemy be removed
and not to leave so much as a trace.
In the morning, church bells pealed for the death of a newlywed by
the name of Harutiun, who was killed by a Circassian out for revenge. The
people stood as one as they attended the church service and listened to the
valiant priest’s sermon, who emphasized the themes of unity, courage, and the
benefits of using one’s mind. He explained the unfortunate consequences of
cowardice, injustice, and disunity. Consider, he said, that if they succeed in
massacring us they will follow up by massacring our compatriots [azgakits’ner]. When he was done giving
words of encouragement and guidance, he preached the importance of maintaining
secrecy, made certain pronouncements, and then led the funeral procession to
the cemetery to deliver to the earth the body of the young martyr.
The local authorities carried out interviews and exhaustive
investigations and excavations, being left completely in the dark in the end
about the secrets of that heroic battle…
The Turkish villagers composed songs about that event, singing:
Yüksek köyun
adı deyler Çengiler,
Adamı keserler
kayıp edeller.
The name of the
high village, Çengiler,
They would kill
a man, and then make him disappear.
The news of this remarkable historical battle was spread all
throughout the country.
[1] The late Ottomanist Donald Quataert estimated that approximately five to seven million of these refugees poured into the Ottoman Empire from the period stretching from 1783 to 1913: Donald Quataert, The Ottoman Empire, 1700-1922 (Cambridge and New York: Cambridge University Press, 2000), p. 117. For studies on these migrations, see, for example, A. Üner Turgay, “Circassian Immigration into the Ottoman Empire, 1856-1878,” in Islamic Studies Presented to Charles J. Adams, eds. Wael B. Hallaq and Donald P. Little (Leiden: E. J. Brill, 1991), pp. 193-218; Muhittin Ünal (ed.), Çerkeslerin Sürgünü (21 Mayıs 1864) (Ankara: Kafkas Derneği Yayınları, 2001).
[2] Sona Derebeyian, Hushamatian Chenkileri Hayots’, 1528-1923 [Memorial volume of the Armenians of Çengiler, 1528-1923] (Paris: P. Elekian, 1973), pp. 13-14, 45-55.
[3] Ibid., pp. 23-26.
No comments:
Post a Comment