Profusion of Medals: Compensation or Compromise?
By Edmond Y. Azadian
The Russian novelist Anton Chekhov once wrote a satirical
short story about the significance of medals in 19th-century
Russian society. The story dwells on the predicament of a
poor teacher who is invited to a dinner party in high society
circles. To prove that he deserves the honor, he decides to
borrow a medal from a friend. Upon arriving at the party,
however, he encounters an acquaintance, who knows that he
has not received such an honor. The teacher tries to hide the
medal, devising many ruses which eventually spoil the dinner
and the evening. But before taking his leave, he discovers that
his acquaintance is also in the same boat, trying to hide his
own borrowed medal.
Chekhov ridiculed characters chasing such vanities. He
died in 1905 and yet, since then, not much has changed in
that part of the world when it comes to tributes.
The Soviet inheritors of the Russian Empire also stressed
the significance of those medals, to the point that many anecdotes
and jokes were cracked about Leonid Brezhnev, a particular
devotee of medals. As the chevrons on his lapel
extended, Armenians were wondering that they had never
seen hyphenated chevrons.
Today, those coveted medals can be bought at the
Vernissage, the glorified flea market in Yerevan, for pennies.
But, on the other hand, the tradition seems to be
entrenched in Armenia so much so that pretty soon no tourist
will return from Yerevan without a medal awarded by an
authority or agency in Armenia.
The same may apply also to the church. It looks like soon
the recipients of medals will outnumber Armenians who have
been deprived of such honors.
In the past, the people who were awarded such medals were
few and far between. But today, the abundance of such
medals leaves everyone baffled and devalues the honor. Some
recipients even wonder what good deed they have done for
Armenia in order to deserve such honors.
It looks as if the time has come to revise the value system
in Armenia, where they seem to be banking on the naiveté of
Diasporan Armenians. It is true that for some people, those
medals serve as an effective bait to get them to make some
contributions. But, as time goes on, with the proliferation of
those honors, the value system is undermined and deserving
people cannot be distinguished from the ones who have taken
the bait and been elevated to a rank to which they don't
belong.
There is a saturation point where the law of diminishing
returns is activated.
Yet another group in the diaspora is critical of generous distribution
of those questionable honors, that is, until their
turn arrives. At that point, they believe that unlike undeserving
honorees, they are meritorious and have fully earned the
honors.
But eventually, they are bundled in the same batch of people
who had been wearing those medals, whether they
deserved them or not.
Come to think, by the unrestricted dispensation of those
medals, the authorities, eventually, insult the intelligence of
the Diasporan Armenians, believing that those methods can
buy influence, loyalty and sacrifice.
Any contribution to or sacrifice for Armenia loses its value
the moment the motivation becomes reciprocal compensation.
And unfortunately, our poor homeland has not much
more to offer than those pieces of metal to reward those contributors.
It is really very difficult to differentiate who is more naïve:
the people who shower those honors or those who get the
medals? Maybe both.
When those medals were awarded sparingly, the recipients
were distinguished members of the community and they
stood above the multitudes. But today, when the spigot of
those awards has been turned loose, the value of those
medals is dead on arrival.
Individuals with self-esteem need to think seriously if the
medals they have received truly signify an appreciation for a
righteous deed or whether they have been decorated with an
ulterior motive.
Of course, the generous distribution of medals needs to be
distinguished from the prizes awarded to the writers, scientists,
scholars and performers by the government or by other
organizations, since the latter come with monetary compensation,
which will go a long way to inspire new pieces of literature
or composition, or new volumes of academic work.
Now that there is a large army of medal bearers, where do
we begin to raise our value system?
Of course, the change has to begin from the top. But before
adopting a new system, there has to be a change in our people's
mentality and attitude. Brezhnev is dead and his medals
have been buried with him; we cannot buy them at the
Vernissage anymore.
Once we change our mentality, it would be rather easy to
come up with a new value system. Committees of unbiased
and qualified scholars may be assigned with the task; people
who truly are familiar with the face (and the heart) of the
diaspora and Armenia. They can come up with a short list of
candidates who should be vetted properly, before being nominated
for the awards. That way, no recommendation can be
smuggled on the list of nominations if all they have done is
treat a minister to lunch or given a lavish present.
During the last 21 years, from the ashes of the ragtag fighters
an effective army was formed in Armenia. Legislative and
executive branches of government were put in place.
Therefore, Armenia's value system should also correspond to
those developments. If fewer people from the diaspora are
medaled, the Diasporan-Armenians will feel more honored,
not less, if and when their turn comes.
If today Anton Chekhov were to be resurrected, I have no
reason to hide my own medals. But, in my soul searching, I
will always wonder where I stand in the value system of those
who have awarded the medals to me.
Note: This article is dedicated to the memory of my dear
friend, the late Arsen Demerjian who motivated me to write
about this topic before his untimely death.
http://www.mirrorspectator.com/current-issue/
From: A. Papazian
By Edmond Y. Azadian
The Russian novelist Anton Chekhov once wrote a satirical
short story about the significance of medals in 19th-century
Russian society. The story dwells on the predicament of a
poor teacher who is invited to a dinner party in high society
circles. To prove that he deserves the honor, he decides to
borrow a medal from a friend. Upon arriving at the party,
however, he encounters an acquaintance, who knows that he
has not received such an honor. The teacher tries to hide the
medal, devising many ruses which eventually spoil the dinner
and the evening. But before taking his leave, he discovers that
his acquaintance is also in the same boat, trying to hide his
own borrowed medal.
Chekhov ridiculed characters chasing such vanities. He
died in 1905 and yet, since then, not much has changed in
that part of the world when it comes to tributes.
The Soviet inheritors of the Russian Empire also stressed
the significance of those medals, to the point that many anecdotes
and jokes were cracked about Leonid Brezhnev, a particular
devotee of medals. As the chevrons on his lapel
extended, Armenians were wondering that they had never
seen hyphenated chevrons.
Today, those coveted medals can be bought at the
Vernissage, the glorified flea market in Yerevan, for pennies.
But, on the other hand, the tradition seems to be
entrenched in Armenia so much so that pretty soon no tourist
will return from Yerevan without a medal awarded by an
authority or agency in Armenia.
The same may apply also to the church. It looks like soon
the recipients of medals will outnumber Armenians who have
been deprived of such honors.
In the past, the people who were awarded such medals were
few and far between. But today, the abundance of such
medals leaves everyone baffled and devalues the honor. Some
recipients even wonder what good deed they have done for
Armenia in order to deserve such honors.
It looks as if the time has come to revise the value system
in Armenia, where they seem to be banking on the naiveté of
Diasporan Armenians. It is true that for some people, those
medals serve as an effective bait to get them to make some
contributions. But, as time goes on, with the proliferation of
those honors, the value system is undermined and deserving
people cannot be distinguished from the ones who have taken
the bait and been elevated to a rank to which they don't
belong.
There is a saturation point where the law of diminishing
returns is activated.
Yet another group in the diaspora is critical of generous distribution
of those questionable honors, that is, until their
turn arrives. At that point, they believe that unlike undeserving
honorees, they are meritorious and have fully earned the
honors.
But eventually, they are bundled in the same batch of people
who had been wearing those medals, whether they
deserved them or not.
Come to think, by the unrestricted dispensation of those
medals, the authorities, eventually, insult the intelligence of
the Diasporan Armenians, believing that those methods can
buy influence, loyalty and sacrifice.
Any contribution to or sacrifice for Armenia loses its value
the moment the motivation becomes reciprocal compensation.
And unfortunately, our poor homeland has not much
more to offer than those pieces of metal to reward those contributors.
It is really very difficult to differentiate who is more naïve:
the people who shower those honors or those who get the
medals? Maybe both.
When those medals were awarded sparingly, the recipients
were distinguished members of the community and they
stood above the multitudes. But today, when the spigot of
those awards has been turned loose, the value of those
medals is dead on arrival.
Individuals with self-esteem need to think seriously if the
medals they have received truly signify an appreciation for a
righteous deed or whether they have been decorated with an
ulterior motive.
Of course, the generous distribution of medals needs to be
distinguished from the prizes awarded to the writers, scientists,
scholars and performers by the government or by other
organizations, since the latter come with monetary compensation,
which will go a long way to inspire new pieces of literature
or composition, or new volumes of academic work.
Now that there is a large army of medal bearers, where do
we begin to raise our value system?
Of course, the change has to begin from the top. But before
adopting a new system, there has to be a change in our people's
mentality and attitude. Brezhnev is dead and his medals
have been buried with him; we cannot buy them at the
Vernissage anymore.
Once we change our mentality, it would be rather easy to
come up with a new value system. Committees of unbiased
and qualified scholars may be assigned with the task; people
who truly are familiar with the face (and the heart) of the
diaspora and Armenia. They can come up with a short list of
candidates who should be vetted properly, before being nominated
for the awards. That way, no recommendation can be
smuggled on the list of nominations if all they have done is
treat a minister to lunch or given a lavish present.
During the last 21 years, from the ashes of the ragtag fighters
an effective army was formed in Armenia. Legislative and
executive branches of government were put in place.
Therefore, Armenia's value system should also correspond to
those developments. If fewer people from the diaspora are
medaled, the Diasporan-Armenians will feel more honored,
not less, if and when their turn comes.
If today Anton Chekhov were to be resurrected, I have no
reason to hide my own medals. But, in my soul searching, I
will always wonder where I stand in the value system of those
who have awarded the medals to me.
Note: This article is dedicated to the memory of my dear
friend, the late Arsen Demerjian who motivated me to write
about this topic before his untimely death.
http://www.mirrorspectator.com/current-issue/
From: A. Papazian