Tweet
ATTACKS ON ELDERLY ARMENIAN WOMEN IN TURKEY AWAKEN FEARS
15:05, 4 April, 2013
YEREVAN, APRIL 4, ARMENPRESS: Attacks on elderly Armenian women in
Turkey has awaken fears and recalled a tortured past and, perhaps,
hinted at future tensions as Turkey prepares to face the 100th
anniversary of the genocide of its Armenian population in the last
years of the Ottoman Empire, reports Armenpress citing The New York
Times: The Article runs as follows:
"The man in the ski mask struck in the twilight of late afternoon,
strangling the elderly woman from behind, beating her senseless and
leaving her for dead. He ran off with 50 Turkish lira, about $30,
and her engagement ring, a last memory of her long-dead husband.
"He just beat me, over and over again," said the woman, Turfanda Asik,
88, who spent two weeks in an intensive care unit. "He hit my back,
my skinny back. What have I done to him? What did he want? "
Ms. Asik was left bruised and blinded in one eye. Her beating is
thought to be the first of a string of attacks in the last few months
on elderly Armenian women in Samatya, Istanbul's historic Armenian
quarter. Until recently in Samatya, a neighborhood of wooden houses
built long ago and centuries-old churches, residents left their
doors unlocked.
As brutally as she was beaten, Ms. Asik was lucky. One victim of the
attacks died from her wounds.
Along the crooked streets of Samatya and in its teahouses, churches
and social clubs, the attacks have awakened fears - rooted in past
episodes of repression that residents say had waned in recent years
as Turkey became more accommodating toward its minorities.
"The community is always living with fear because the Armenian
community has always been under pressure," said Rober Koptas, the
editor of Agos, an Armenian newspaper here that has devoted several
issues to coverage of the attacks. "We were always regarded as
foreigners, as second-class citizens."
Armenians and other minorities were once widely discriminated against
in modern Turkey, subject to violent attacks by nationalists and shut
out from prestige professions like the army officer corps. In Samatya,
Armenians were typically artisans and merchants, many toiling in the
maze of stalls at the nearby Grand Bazaar.
But in recent times their lot has improved, thanks to reforms brought
on by Turkey's efforts to join the European Union, a process that
has lately stalled. Mr. Koptas, the newspaper editor, said younger
Armenians like him - he is 35 - are speaking and writing "side-by-side
with our Turkish compatriots."
"The fear has decreased," he said. "But for the older generation,
it is always there."
When the authorities recently arrested a suspect in the attacks
who they said was mentally disturbed and of Armenian origin - not a
fanatical Turk motivated by hatred, as many assumed - it only raised
more suspicions among some residents of Samatya, who said they thought
the police had merely found a convenient scapegoat.
Regardless of the perpetrator, the violence has recalled a tortured
past and, perhaps, hinted at future tensions as Turkey prepares to
face the 100th anniversary of the genocide of its Armenian population
in the last years of the Ottoman Empire.
Even though that milestone is two years away, in 2015, the country
is already questioning how the anniversary will be treated: as a
chance for reconciliation and full recognition of the massacres by
the Ottoman Army or an occasion for more tension and hate speech of
the sort that appeared on social networks after the recent attacks.
"Turkey has to face this," Mr. Koptas said. "Only with this will
Turkey become a democracy."
On a chilly afternoon in January, a few hundred protesters marched
down a narrow street that connects with Samatya's main square, which
is bordered by cafes and open-air fish shops. "The Armenian people
are not alone!" Was one chant. "Shoulder to shoulder against fascism,"
was another.
"This is normal," said Ayse Demir, a student who participated in the
protest, reflecting the sentiment that Armenians are constantly under
threat. "Armenians can be killed."
Another student, standing beside Ms. Demir, said, "There are lots of
racist people in Turkey."
Sedat Caliskan, 35, a taxi driver who is Muslim, stood watching the
marchers. "For years, nothing like this has happened," he said of
the attacks. "I want to believe that these are isolated incidents."
In simple terms, he spoke of a sense of harmony between Christians
and Muslims in the neighborhood. "On Sundays they go to church,
and on Fridays we go to the mosque," he said.
Mr. Caliskan lives three doors down from the murdered woman's home,
which is adorned with red carnations and signs that read: "Don't touch
our Armenian neighbor" and "Don't remain silent. Don't be intimidated.
"
As he sipped tea and watched the protesters, one longtime resident,
a Greek man named Yorgi Eskargemis, a retired textile merchant,
said that the neighborhood is still as beautiful as the days it
was called "Little Paris." But the attacks, he said , are a "stain"
on the community".
From: A. Papazian
15:05, 4 April, 2013
YEREVAN, APRIL 4, ARMENPRESS: Attacks on elderly Armenian women in
Turkey has awaken fears and recalled a tortured past and, perhaps,
hinted at future tensions as Turkey prepares to face the 100th
anniversary of the genocide of its Armenian population in the last
years of the Ottoman Empire, reports Armenpress citing The New York
Times: The Article runs as follows:
"The man in the ski mask struck in the twilight of late afternoon,
strangling the elderly woman from behind, beating her senseless and
leaving her for dead. He ran off with 50 Turkish lira, about $30,
and her engagement ring, a last memory of her long-dead husband.
"He just beat me, over and over again," said the woman, Turfanda Asik,
88, who spent two weeks in an intensive care unit. "He hit my back,
my skinny back. What have I done to him? What did he want? "
Ms. Asik was left bruised and blinded in one eye. Her beating is
thought to be the first of a string of attacks in the last few months
on elderly Armenian women in Samatya, Istanbul's historic Armenian
quarter. Until recently in Samatya, a neighborhood of wooden houses
built long ago and centuries-old churches, residents left their
doors unlocked.
As brutally as she was beaten, Ms. Asik was lucky. One victim of the
attacks died from her wounds.
Along the crooked streets of Samatya and in its teahouses, churches
and social clubs, the attacks have awakened fears - rooted in past
episodes of repression that residents say had waned in recent years
as Turkey became more accommodating toward its minorities.
"The community is always living with fear because the Armenian
community has always been under pressure," said Rober Koptas, the
editor of Agos, an Armenian newspaper here that has devoted several
issues to coverage of the attacks. "We were always regarded as
foreigners, as second-class citizens."
Armenians and other minorities were once widely discriminated against
in modern Turkey, subject to violent attacks by nationalists and shut
out from prestige professions like the army officer corps. In Samatya,
Armenians were typically artisans and merchants, many toiling in the
maze of stalls at the nearby Grand Bazaar.
But in recent times their lot has improved, thanks to reforms brought
on by Turkey's efforts to join the European Union, a process that
has lately stalled. Mr. Koptas, the newspaper editor, said younger
Armenians like him - he is 35 - are speaking and writing "side-by-side
with our Turkish compatriots."
"The fear has decreased," he said. "But for the older generation,
it is always there."
When the authorities recently arrested a suspect in the attacks
who they said was mentally disturbed and of Armenian origin - not a
fanatical Turk motivated by hatred, as many assumed - it only raised
more suspicions among some residents of Samatya, who said they thought
the police had merely found a convenient scapegoat.
Regardless of the perpetrator, the violence has recalled a tortured
past and, perhaps, hinted at future tensions as Turkey prepares to
face the 100th anniversary of the genocide of its Armenian population
in the last years of the Ottoman Empire.
Even though that milestone is two years away, in 2015, the country
is already questioning how the anniversary will be treated: as a
chance for reconciliation and full recognition of the massacres by
the Ottoman Army or an occasion for more tension and hate speech of
the sort that appeared on social networks after the recent attacks.
"Turkey has to face this," Mr. Koptas said. "Only with this will
Turkey become a democracy."
On a chilly afternoon in January, a few hundred protesters marched
down a narrow street that connects with Samatya's main square, which
is bordered by cafes and open-air fish shops. "The Armenian people
are not alone!" Was one chant. "Shoulder to shoulder against fascism,"
was another.
"This is normal," said Ayse Demir, a student who participated in the
protest, reflecting the sentiment that Armenians are constantly under
threat. "Armenians can be killed."
Another student, standing beside Ms. Demir, said, "There are lots of
racist people in Turkey."
Sedat Caliskan, 35, a taxi driver who is Muslim, stood watching the
marchers. "For years, nothing like this has happened," he said of
the attacks. "I want to believe that these are isolated incidents."
In simple terms, he spoke of a sense of harmony between Christians
and Muslims in the neighborhood. "On Sundays they go to church,
and on Fridays we go to the mosque," he said.
Mr. Caliskan lives three doors down from the murdered woman's home,
which is adorned with red carnations and signs that read: "Don't touch
our Armenian neighbor" and "Don't remain silent. Don't be intimidated.
"
As he sipped tea and watched the protesters, one longtime resident,
a Greek man named Yorgi Eskargemis, a retired textile merchant,
said that the neighborhood is still as beautiful as the days it
was called "Little Paris." But the attacks, he said , are a "stain"
on the community".
From: A. Papazian