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ARMENIA: FRONTIER RESTRICTIONS PROMPT EXODUS
Yeranuhi Soghoian
Institute for War and Peace Reporting IWPR
July 31 2009
UK
Empty Armenian border villages raise security concerns.
Villages along Armenia's border with Turkey are emptying, with
their inhabitants blaming strict border regulations for making life
impossible, in an exodus that some analysts say threatens the security
of the state.
In the village of Kharkov, for example, on the bank of the river
Akhurian facing Turkish territory over the water, just one family
remains.
In 1949, when the barbed wire was installed and the Cold War made the
Turkish-Soviet border the frontline between communism and capitalism,
80 Armenian families lived here.
Turkey and Armenia still have no diplomatic ties, and the closed
border between them today is a legacy of Armenia's war with Turkish
ally Azerbaijan in the early 1990s.
The Khachatrians were the most recent emigrants from Kharkov in 2008,
and now live in the village of Ani, about seven kilometres away. They
say they had no choice but to abandon their homes, so they gathered
up their belongings and locked the door behind them.
"My grandson had to go to school, so like it or not, we had to leave
Kharkov," said Avetik Khachatrian, the head of the family.
He said people started to leave the village, which is surrounded by
barbed wire, as early as the 1960s, as they struggled to deal with
the harsh Soviet border conditions. The school taught children only
for the first four years, and the roads were in such a poor state
that they were almost impassable.
The Khachatrians had to show special passes at a border checkpoint
to reach the outside world, they said, and had to give prior warning
if anyone wanted to visit them, including for weddings or funerals.
"They counted them in, and then on the next day they counted them out
again," said Avetik's wife, Melsida. "Outsiders could not stay in the
village. There were cases when, because of extended document checks,
the funeral ceremony had to be postponed until 8 pm."
Now, the only village residents are the Vardanians, a couple in their
70s. When they go, the village will be empty, and that part of the
border deserted.
This movement away from the border zone profoundly troubles Stepan
Safarian, a political commentator and member of parliament for the
Heritage Party.
"These farmers guard our border, and it is especially hard since our
enemy is on the other side. The government does not provide decent
living conditions for the residents of the border areas, which raises
questions about the existence of a border at all," he said.
"If there are no villages on the border, then you either have to have
a strong army, and our country cannot afford that for any extended
period, or you have to decide not to defend the border. In this case
the biggest danger is that this area won't be deserted for long,
since in the modern world of globalisation other people will quickly
move there. And maybe they'll be from Turkey."
The local priest, Mikael Ajapahian of the Shirak diocese, can list
villages that have either been moved back from the border or were
relocated to make way for the Akhurian reservoir. He said an attempt
by a group of farmers to move back to Kharkov in the 1980s failed
and no one had tried to resurrect the village since.
"In the Soviet years, when everything was done to empty the villages
or evacuate people further from the Armenian-Turkish border, of course
such an initiative was doomed," he said.
Ajapahian said the Turkish government's treatment of villages on its
side of the border was different, "There is no barbed wire there,
and everything is done to develop these villages.
"For me, it is degrading to see the current situation in Kharkov. What
law says a village must be surrounded by barbed wire? If there is
already a natural border in the form of a reservoir and a river then
why is an artificial one needed too?"
Lida Nanian, the governor of the Shirak region where Kharkov
is located, did not deny that the emptying of the villages
was a side-effect of the strict border regulations but said the
administration was doing all it could to provide modern amenities
for the villagers.
"There was a problem with the village of Meghrashat. The issue was
that the cowshed was right on the Armenian-Turkish border and not
long ago there was a case of livestock being stolen," she said.
"The border guards demanded that the residents moved their cowshed
further from the border and did not send their livestock into those
pastures. I did not agree with this but it is their job; it is what
they are paid to do."
The border guards' involvement does not end with the location of
cowsheds. In order to graze their livestock, local people have to
carry a pass, something they find offensive.
"I no longer live in Kharkov, but I still have some land there,
and now I need to go there to cultivate it," said Avetik Khachatrian.
"I already have a pass for entering and exiting until the end of the
year but believe me, they do not make it easy. A few days ago, I had to
wait at the checkpoint from 8 am to 1 pm. for them to open it. They did
not even let me work properly. They came at 8 pm and told me to leave."
Yeranuhi Soghoian is freelance journalist in Gyumri.
Yeranuhi Soghoian
Institute for War and Peace Reporting IWPR
July 31 2009
UK
Empty Armenian border villages raise security concerns.
Villages along Armenia's border with Turkey are emptying, with
their inhabitants blaming strict border regulations for making life
impossible, in an exodus that some analysts say threatens the security
of the state.
In the village of Kharkov, for example, on the bank of the river
Akhurian facing Turkish territory over the water, just one family
remains.
In 1949, when the barbed wire was installed and the Cold War made the
Turkish-Soviet border the frontline between communism and capitalism,
80 Armenian families lived here.
Turkey and Armenia still have no diplomatic ties, and the closed
border between them today is a legacy of Armenia's war with Turkish
ally Azerbaijan in the early 1990s.
The Khachatrians were the most recent emigrants from Kharkov in 2008,
and now live in the village of Ani, about seven kilometres away. They
say they had no choice but to abandon their homes, so they gathered
up their belongings and locked the door behind them.
"My grandson had to go to school, so like it or not, we had to leave
Kharkov," said Avetik Khachatrian, the head of the family.
He said people started to leave the village, which is surrounded by
barbed wire, as early as the 1960s, as they struggled to deal with
the harsh Soviet border conditions. The school taught children only
for the first four years, and the roads were in such a poor state
that they were almost impassable.
The Khachatrians had to show special passes at a border checkpoint
to reach the outside world, they said, and had to give prior warning
if anyone wanted to visit them, including for weddings or funerals.
"They counted them in, and then on the next day they counted them out
again," said Avetik's wife, Melsida. "Outsiders could not stay in the
village. There were cases when, because of extended document checks,
the funeral ceremony had to be postponed until 8 pm."
Now, the only village residents are the Vardanians, a couple in their
70s. When they go, the village will be empty, and that part of the
border deserted.
This movement away from the border zone profoundly troubles Stepan
Safarian, a political commentator and member of parliament for the
Heritage Party.
"These farmers guard our border, and it is especially hard since our
enemy is on the other side. The government does not provide decent
living conditions for the residents of the border areas, which raises
questions about the existence of a border at all," he said.
"If there are no villages on the border, then you either have to have
a strong army, and our country cannot afford that for any extended
period, or you have to decide not to defend the border. In this case
the biggest danger is that this area won't be deserted for long,
since in the modern world of globalisation other people will quickly
move there. And maybe they'll be from Turkey."
The local priest, Mikael Ajapahian of the Shirak diocese, can list
villages that have either been moved back from the border or were
relocated to make way for the Akhurian reservoir. He said an attempt
by a group of farmers to move back to Kharkov in the 1980s failed
and no one had tried to resurrect the village since.
"In the Soviet years, when everything was done to empty the villages
or evacuate people further from the Armenian-Turkish border, of course
such an initiative was doomed," he said.
Ajapahian said the Turkish government's treatment of villages on its
side of the border was different, "There is no barbed wire there,
and everything is done to develop these villages.
"For me, it is degrading to see the current situation in Kharkov. What
law says a village must be surrounded by barbed wire? If there is
already a natural border in the form of a reservoir and a river then
why is an artificial one needed too?"
Lida Nanian, the governor of the Shirak region where Kharkov
is located, did not deny that the emptying of the villages
was a side-effect of the strict border regulations but said the
administration was doing all it could to provide modern amenities
for the villagers.
"There was a problem with the village of Meghrashat. The issue was
that the cowshed was right on the Armenian-Turkish border and not
long ago there was a case of livestock being stolen," she said.
"The border guards demanded that the residents moved their cowshed
further from the border and did not send their livestock into those
pastures. I did not agree with this but it is their job; it is what
they are paid to do."
The border guards' involvement does not end with the location of
cowsheds. In order to graze their livestock, local people have to
carry a pass, something they find offensive.
"I no longer live in Kharkov, but I still have some land there,
and now I need to go there to cultivate it," said Avetik Khachatrian.
"I already have a pass for entering and exiting until the end of the
year but believe me, they do not make it easy. A few days ago, I had to
wait at the checkpoint from 8 am to 1 pm. for them to open it. They did
not even let me work properly. They came at 8 pm and told me to leave."
Yeranuhi Soghoian is freelance journalist in Gyumri.