Hey, Armenians: 1.5 million of you were not slaughtered by the
Ottoman Empire during World War I. Cambodians: Pol Pot
wasn’t as bad as you say he was. Korean and Chinese women:
you weren’t forced into sexual slavery by the Imperial
Japanese Army during World War II. And, before I forget, all the
Jews out there: the Holocaust is simply Western propaganda.
The above statements are just a few of the many examples of
denying and rationalizing in the face of historical fact. However,
in the case of the Armenian genocide, the denial is far more
advanced and has reached more deeply into the historical profession
than in any other tragedy.
For example, during a commemoration of the Armenian genocide at
University of California at Berkeley, a professor of Near Eastern
studies approached the Armenian students’ table, where they
were commemorating the genocide, and told the assembled group that
the genocide never happened, and went on to say that the Armenians
“deserved to be massacred.” A professor, who is
supposed to be balanced and at the very least academically honest,
venomously spewing out hatred and propaganda is one example of the
extent to which the denial of the Armenian genocide has been
promulgated. Unfortunately, Berkeley isn’t the only school
where this has happened.
In 1997 the Turkish government offered UCLA $1 million to endow
a chair in Turkish and Ottoman history. However there was a
condition to the donation: the new professor had to “maintain
close and cordial relations with academic circles in Turkey.”
This condition caused protests within the history department and
the Armenian community because of its apparent coercive effects of
spreading Turkish propaganda. However, UCLA
“indefinitely postponed” accepting the gift to make
sure it would not compromise academic integrity and to keep the
controversy from escalating into the uproar that followed Princeton
University’s acceptance of a gift from Turkey in 1996.
There are no easy answers as to the motivations and reasons for
such an extensive cover-up attempt. The reasons behind such an
extensive cover-up are far- reaching and complex. One Turkish
scholar suggested that “the formation of the Turkish national
identity played a decisive role not only in the decision to commit
genocide, but also in the current denial and tabooing of
it.”
Admitting to the slaughter of an entire race would perhaps
attack the very essence of the post-Ottoman Turkish
government. Whatever the reasons, the basic denial argument
has remained the same: it never happened, Turkey is not
responsible, and the term “genocide” does not apply.
However, the thousands of recorded testimonies portraying an
orchestrated, intentional massacre by the Young Turk regime cannot
be explained away. Indeed, it is the very definition of
genocide.
The dangers and consequences of denying the Armenian Genocide
have already been felt throughout history and even today. Adolf
Hitler referred to the Armenians as justification of the Jewish
Holocaust at least four times. “Who, after all,” Hitler
asked, “speaks today of the annihilation of the
Armenians?” The First Reich was an ally with the Ottoman
Empire, and much of the information about the Armenian Genocide we
possess comes from Word War I-era German documents. The German Army
saw the mass executions and mass deportation of the Armenians
first-hand. If the Armenians’ plight had been taken
seriously after World War I, Hitler would have had no blueprint for
his systematic slaughters.Â
It is said that denial is the final phase of genocide. To this
day, Turkey and most governments (including the United States)
refuse to acknowledge the Armenian genocide, due to external
Turkish pressure. Denial conceals the horror of the crimes and
exonerates those responsible. It is an extension of the very
violent physical acts that actually took place.Â
I am not Armenian, nor are most people at this school, but it is
important to understand these facts. Not only in the name of
history not repeating itself, but also so that healing and closure
can begin. As to Hitler’s ominous question, it is my
hope that we can all answer, “We will.”
Partridge is a third-year history student.