Many of us Armenians are Armenian because we were born to an Armenian family, were baptized in an Armenian Church and speak in Armenian. There are people who are non-Armenian, but have an “Armenian origin”, etc…

Each person defines his identity and chooses the way to present himself…But there are also people who are Armenian not because they have defined themselves as Armenians or have the above mentioned “advantages”, but are Armenian because they have…shown resistance.

Whenever we talk about the incognito Armenians, we always touch upon loss, deprivations and being detached from culture and language. But this is a story about the advantages of an Armenian who has remained on the other side of the border…

David grew up on the plateau of Mount Maratuk. Every morning, he would wake up and go feed the animals in a place where the ruins of an Armenian church reminded one that there once were Armenians like him there. The St. Mary Monastery of Maratuk was a very mysterious place for everyone, even the Muslims were afraid of picking fruits from the trees located in front of the monastery, saying it was a sin. Maratuk was a place of worship not only for the Armenians, but the local Arabs and Kurds as well, and those who disrespected the monastery “would be punished by God”. David recalls how the Kurd seeking bones near the church finally found the Armenian treasures, took them home and became mute after a while.

David, whose family was the only Christian family in the whole village, silently followed to see how the herds of the animals of the Kurds who had once massacred the Armenians died and how there were no more crops in the field.

At the time, David didn’t know what the difference was between him and his fellow villagers. He only knew that he is Armenian, and that the others are Muslim. He also didn’t understand how the elders of the village calling themselves Arabs were able to speak in the “language of their ancestors…” It’s probably Armenian that he doesn’t understand.

Although the members of the family couldn’t be baptized due to the lack of a church and priest in Sasun, David’s grandparents kept Lent 40 days before Easter, after which his mother would paint the eggs on the days of Easter, treat Arab friends and compete to crack each other’s eggs. The family would also visit neighbors and congratulate them on Muslim holidays. HE would come to the village sometimes. Nobody said his name out loud because they were afraid of him. He was a strong person. Everyone would get afraid whenever he came to the village and would say he’s an Arab. But when David’s grandfather spoke in Armenian, the “Arab” understood him very well. The “Arab” would come, kiss little David’s hand and tell all the Muslims of the village the following: “If anything happens to this family, I’ll burn you all”. David’s grandfather would say: “His father saved us in 1915.”

David’s great-grandfather, Sargis was the priest of another village

“When the massacres begin, the soldiers take my great-grandfather to work. A familiar Muslim woman asks, ��?What are you doing, Sargis?’, to which my great-grandfather says, ��?I’m working to save my life’. In response, the woman tells him that if he doesn’t escape, he will be killed. Sargis leaves everything and runs until he reaches a village where a kind Arab gives him a place to stay and keeps him in the house for a while. Later, he is given an area and tells Sargis to stay with him. Sargis says he won’t convert, to which the Arabs don’t say anything. Our family stood out from other families in the village. My grandfather was highly respected. He made carpets and had a special machine. Can you imagine? At the time, who knew what a carpet-making machine was? Then, my Grandfather Harut continued what his father left off and also made carpets,” says David.

At the time, there were some Armenian families surrounded in the village. Over time, they converted to Islam or immigrated to Istanbul to escape from the pressures against Christians, got baptized, joined the Armenian community and attended Armenian schools…The only family left was Sargis’s family. During a census, the family was given an identification document and wished to write the word “Christian” in the section related to religion. But the chief in charge of registration rejected the family and wrote “Muslim” as the family’s religion. The family was forced to take the insult, but this saved David when he was serving in the Turkish army.

“The word “Muslim” was written on the ID card, but the high-ranking officers knew I was Armenian. I served in peace. I have never been a political activist and never got mixed up in conversations. My closest friends found out that I was Armenian. One of my friends told his family that he had an Armenian friend, after which his mother asked me if I was normal…Later, when they got to know us, they were happy to have an Armenian friend.”

Later, David and his brothers and sisters moved to Istanbul, got baptized and were registered as Christians. David recalls how their Muslim neighbors were crying when the family was leaving the village.

“My grandmother didn’t come with us. She can’t live anywhere outside of Sasun. My mother stayed with her. When they visit us in Istanbul in the winter, my grandmother always complains, saying ��?What can I do in Istanbul? The air and water here are dirty, my feet hurt. There is no place like Sasun in the world, boy!’

“It seems as though we’re not alone here. But it only seems. In reality, the Armenians of Istanbul still don’t want to accept us as one of them because we didn’t grow up among Muslims. The local Armenians don’t let girls get married to our men and tell me, ��?You were a shepherd when you were little’. It doesn’t matter to them that my grandfather had fought for his religion until he died. They don’t imagine what it means to be isolated and to be the only Christian family in a village. Do you know that everyone’s grandfathers were Armenian in that village? The elders knew Armenian, but only we called ourselves Armenian because we were the only ones who remained Christians. The other Christian Armenians had left the village earlier. It’s a ��?silent struggle’ for identity. Those who can show resistance for a long time will survive. There are Christian Armenians in other villages as well, but they live together with several families, and we’re the only one sin whole village.

My grandmother entered the church for the first time when I took her to one of the churches in Istanbul on the day my grandfather had died.

That Arab protected us in the village. We were left alone, but if we were many in number, nothing would change. When my grandfather passed away, there was not one priest in Sasun for us to bury him according to the Christian ritual. My grandfather stayed true to his faith until the day he died and told my aunt, ��?Be careful! If I lose my conscience, don’t let them say a Muslim prayer’. My grandfather passed away. The Muslims of the village brought imam, we disputed and didn’t allow it. Then, they left Muslim inscriptions on my grandfather’s tombstone…That’s my most painful memory…My grandfather didn’t deserve that.”

David’s older brother got married to a girl from the village whose family had Armenian roots, but had converted to Islam a long time ago as well.

“They struggled for a decade. The girl’s family didn’t like my brother, and my family didn’t like the girl. They were from different religions. They were Armenian, but Muslim. The girl’s family was even a very far relative, and everyone knew that. They told my brother, ��?If you say the Namaz in the mosque, we’ll let you be with our daughter’. We didn’t accept that. My brother neither went to the mosque nor got baptized…He goes to church and lights a candle, but he hasn’t been baptized. He doesn’t want the girl to have problems in the village. They finally got married, but waited for each other for 10 years. The girl told her family that she wouldn’t get married to anyone else. She remained persistent for years and forced her family to agree…She’s very happy with us and celebrates our holidays with us.”

Every Sunday, David lights three candles at the church-one for his family, one to not take a different path and one for Maratuk.

“We haven’t left our village, our land and our monasteries. I remember my childhood, the fields and mountains with longing…There is a unique force in Maratuk. I don’t know why the Armenians sanctified it, but there is a supernatural force. The people gather the stones near the monastery and keep them in their pockets so that they can protect themselves from illnesses. The church has been destroyed, and there are atheists everywhere. When I visited Sasun two years ago, a person wanted to take a stone from the top of the church and use it as construction material. I asked him to come down, after which he turned around and said, ��?Oh! Aren’t you Hakob’s son? Yes! I knew your father very well’ and then left…

When Armenians from other countries visit Sasun and return, they always tell their friends and relatives that they saw some Turkified Armenians there…Even if we can convince them that we aren’t Turkified or Kurdified, they still believe we are helpless and can’t speak out. They think we are poor people. They think I’m very miserable because I don’t speak Armenian. One day, I was asked: “Do you think we’re more miserable after having been able to preserve our language and culture, but have the longing for the homeland, or you who stayed on your lands, but don’t know Armenian and can’t even get baptized?” People think it’s crazy to stay in those mountains and show resistance for more than 100 years. I think I’m lucky. Yes, I don’t know Armenian, but it’s up to me to learn the language, and I am learning. A couple of years ago, I wasn’t baptized, but I have already become baptized…I can pick up the pieces and move on. My younger sister goes to an Armenian school in Istanbul. That’s my greatest achievement. I’ll send my children to an Armenian school as well. People often ask me why we didn’t immigrate and tell me that we wouldn’t face so many difficulties, to which I say to them, ��?You children faced fewer difficulties, but today, you have come and are crying on the ruins of your grandfather’s home. You come here as a guest, but I invite you to my house. Yes, my home in Sasun remains standing.”

I don’t have a lot. Whatever I have is innate. But I have always had what you have been crying about for 100 years…

SOFYA HAKOBYAN