ADL uproar in Watertown sparks debate on genocide
By Raphael Kohan
The Jewish Advocate
Thursday August 9 2007
Jewish organizations divided over Armenian congressional resolution
A controversy exposed last week surrounding Watertown’s status as an Anti-Defamation League No Place for Hate community raised serious questions about the role of Jews and Jewish groups in recognizing the Armenian genocide.
On Aug. 1, the Boston Globe reported tensions between the ADL and Watertown’s Armenian community over ADL National Director Abraham H. Foxman’s remarks on whether the U.S. Congress should pass a resolution recognizing the approximately 1.5 million Armenians killed by Turks from 1915 to 1923.
A vote has not yet been scheduled for the resolution, which has met opposition from Turkish lobbyists and some Jewish organizations.
“I’m not going to be the arbiter of someone else’s history,” Foxman told the Globe. The Globe additionally reported that Foxman, whose organization holds no official position on the genocide, said Congress should not be involved in history making either.
“It’s incomprehensible to me,” said Khatchig Mouradian, editor of the Watertown-based Armenian Weekly Newspaper. “I believe that No Place for Hate is an important program, but the community here is outraged.”
Foxman did not return requests for comment.
Though seen by many scholars as a historical fact, debate over recognizing the Armenian genocide reveals a distinct split among Jewish organizations. The schism underscores a complex dynamic that touches on Turkey’s relations with Israel and the welfare of the estimated 25,000 Jews still residing there.
While many Jewish groups invoke “Never Again” to further the legacy of the Holocaust and to protest the current genocide in Darfur, the Armenian genocide – which the Turkish government does not acknowledge – uncovers a less-than-forthcoming moral stance.
And though the ADL says it holds no position on the matter, Foxman’s comments show otherwise, according to James Russell, professor of Armenian Studies at Harvard University. Russell, a Jew and a self-described American Zionist, said Foxman’s statements are disingenuous for an organization that combats anti-Semitism.
“In my view this amounts to Holocaust denial,” he said. “It is a deeply immoral and ignoble stance.”
Yet there is little consensus among Jewish organizations surrounding this congressional resolution on genocide recognition.
Nancy K. Kaufman, executive director of the Jewish Community Relations Council of Greater Boston, maintains her position that the U.S. should recognize the Armenian genocide.
“We’re well aware of the issue with Turkey but feel we can’t back away from the fact that it happened,” she said. “We feel very strongly that we have to speak out against all genocide.”
Larry Lowenthal, executive director of the American Jewish Committee Boston Chapter, expressed more conflicted views.
“It’s a very painful subject because everybody knows that the massacre of Armenians is one of the most horrific events in modern history,” said Lowenthal. “But there are strategic issues delicate to the Jewish community. We at AJC are not lobbying in any way whatsoever.”
On Feb. 5, AJC leaders were among the representatives from a handful of Jewish organizations – including the ADL – who met with Abdullah Gul, the Turkish foreign minister, in Washington D.C. The meeting centered around a written plea from Turkish Jews, asking American Jewish organizations to not lobby on behalf of the congressional resolution.
“It’s a tough situation,” said Israeli Consul General to New England Nadav Tamir. “Israel’s strategic relations with Turkey – as a moderate Islamic state – are critical, but on the other hand it is important for us as survivors of the Holocaust to be absolutely consistent with the moral issue. We really want to maintain good relations with Turkey and the Armenian Diaspora.”
For Newton resident Jack Nusan Porter, treasurer of the International Association of Genocide Scholars, there is no question whether the genocide should be recognized.
“[Foxman’s] making a fool out of himself intellectually, academically and politically. He needs to be replaced,” said Porter. “It points out his ignorance as well as the Turkish pressure – which is still very powerful in Israeli non-recognition.”
But according to Russell, the Harvard professor, it is unfair to expect Israel to take the lead in recognizing the Armenian genocide because of its precarious position in the Middle East.
“If America leads on this, Israel can follow,” said Russell. “I owe no loyalty to the Armenian community, but this is also a moral issue and I know the genocide did take place.”
In Watertown, the future of No Place for Hate hangs in the balance.
Andrew H. Tarsy, regional director of the ADL, said he plans to hold conversations with members of Watertown’s Armenian community in hopes of finding common ground.
“We don’t challenge the Armenian history,” said Tarsy. “Attacking the ADL’s program is not a solution to any of this.”
When asked to explain what many view as Foxman’s contradictory comments, Tarsy said they may have been taken out of context.
But for Lowenthal, this entire ordeal has been extremely uneasy.
“No Jew alive can possibly forget this,” he said of the Armenian genocide. “I wish we just had a categorical, moral stance on this, but for many compelling reasons we don’t. These are delicate, difficult, moral issues and I feel anguished.”
Thursday, August 9, 2007
Saturday, July 28, 2007
Journalism 101: How to Survive a Day of Interviews on the Hill
Journalism 101: How to Survive a Day of Interviews on the Hill
By Dzovak Kazandjian
The Armenian Weekly
July 28, 2007
In the last installment of Dzovak’s Journal, I wrote that week 4 had been the most fascinating time I had spent, thus far, in Washington D.C. The “Leo Sarkisian” interns had the opportunity to attend a roundtable discussion with Freshman Democrats Rep. John Sarbanes (D-Md.) and Rep. Zach Space (D-Ohio) and find out the typical day in the life of a Member of Congress. The Representatives discussed their daily tasks and took questions to better paint a picture of the challenges facing newly elected Representatives.
As great as that was, this week turned out to be even better. I actually had a first hand look at the typical jammed-pack agenda Members of Congress have to constantly juggle—prime example being their ability to make time for a quick video interview before reaching the House floor to cast their votes.
I accompanied “Armenian Weekly” newspaper editor Khatchig Mouradian on a series of video interviews with some of the lead sponsors of the Armenian Genocide Resolution (H.Res.106). It was great opportunity to find out exactly how a journalist operates on Capitol Hill, and where media—ethnic or otherwise—fits into their schedule. I followed Mouradian as he questioned three House Members: Rep. Adam Schiff (D-Calif.), Rep. Brad Sherman (D-Calif.) (my own Congressman) and Congressional Armenian Caucus Co-Chair Frank Pallone (D-N.J.).
The first interview with Rep. Schiff went without interruption since it was conducted first thing in the morning, just as the Congressman arrived to his office. I was responsible of setting up and videotaping the interview and ensuring that we got a strong product for broadcast purposes.
Our second interview was actually scheduled with Rep. Anna Eshoo (D-Calif.). Here is where I got a real feel for how fluid schedules are on Capitol Hill. We were first set to meet at 1:30 p.m. Her press secretary called and explained that votes were scheduled for that time and pushed the rendezvous to 2:30 p.m., only to find out that an amendment that the Congresswoman had initiated was under attack by Republican opponents, keeping her on the floor well late into the afternoon. I had really wanted to meet Rep. Eshoo, who is the only Member of Congress of Armenian descent, but it will have to be postponed to a slower legislative day.
We arrived at Rep. Sherman’s office at 3:00pm with plenty of time to set up a nice background for our interview, only to find that 45 minutes of votes were called and a leisurely 15-minute interview would have to be conducted in 5, no make that 3 minutes. The name of the game is adaptability, with Mouradian condensing 10 questions into 4 and getting the message out to our viewers.
The last interview ended up even more rushed, as all the day’s votes had pushed Rep. Pallone’s schedule hopelessly late. But Rep. Pallone always has time to discuss Armenian American concerns and at 5:45 p.m. we did a five-minute update about the Armenian Genocide Resolution (H.Res.106).
Following Mouradian was great exposure into a line of work that I would eventually like to get into. It also really showed how flexible you have to be as a journalist if you are working on stories regarding Capitol Hill. Time is your greatest enemy on the Hill, with schedules turning on a dime based on votes and all sorts of crises. As frustrating or difficult as it is at times, it’s also really exhilarating and definitely something I would like to pursue.
By Dzovak Kazandjian
The Armenian Weekly
July 28, 2007
In the last installment of Dzovak’s Journal, I wrote that week 4 had been the most fascinating time I had spent, thus far, in Washington D.C. The “Leo Sarkisian” interns had the opportunity to attend a roundtable discussion with Freshman Democrats Rep. John Sarbanes (D-Md.) and Rep. Zach Space (D-Ohio) and find out the typical day in the life of a Member of Congress. The Representatives discussed their daily tasks and took questions to better paint a picture of the challenges facing newly elected Representatives.
As great as that was, this week turned out to be even better. I actually had a first hand look at the typical jammed-pack agenda Members of Congress have to constantly juggle—prime example being their ability to make time for a quick video interview before reaching the House floor to cast their votes.
I accompanied “Armenian Weekly” newspaper editor Khatchig Mouradian on a series of video interviews with some of the lead sponsors of the Armenian Genocide Resolution (H.Res.106). It was great opportunity to find out exactly how a journalist operates on Capitol Hill, and where media—ethnic or otherwise—fits into their schedule. I followed Mouradian as he questioned three House Members: Rep. Adam Schiff (D-Calif.), Rep. Brad Sherman (D-Calif.) (my own Congressman) and Congressional Armenian Caucus Co-Chair Frank Pallone (D-N.J.).
The first interview with Rep. Schiff went without interruption since it was conducted first thing in the morning, just as the Congressman arrived to his office. I was responsible of setting up and videotaping the interview and ensuring that we got a strong product for broadcast purposes.
Our second interview was actually scheduled with Rep. Anna Eshoo (D-Calif.). Here is where I got a real feel for how fluid schedules are on Capitol Hill. We were first set to meet at 1:30 p.m. Her press secretary called and explained that votes were scheduled for that time and pushed the rendezvous to 2:30 p.m., only to find out that an amendment that the Congresswoman had initiated was under attack by Republican opponents, keeping her on the floor well late into the afternoon. I had really wanted to meet Rep. Eshoo, who is the only Member of Congress of Armenian descent, but it will have to be postponed to a slower legislative day.
We arrived at Rep. Sherman’s office at 3:00pm with plenty of time to set up a nice background for our interview, only to find that 45 minutes of votes were called and a leisurely 15-minute interview would have to be conducted in 5, no make that 3 minutes. The name of the game is adaptability, with Mouradian condensing 10 questions into 4 and getting the message out to our viewers.
The last interview ended up even more rushed, as all the day’s votes had pushed Rep. Pallone’s schedule hopelessly late. But Rep. Pallone always has time to discuss Armenian American concerns and at 5:45 p.m. we did a five-minute update about the Armenian Genocide Resolution (H.Res.106).
Following Mouradian was great exposure into a line of work that I would eventually like to get into. It also really showed how flexible you have to be as a journalist if you are working on stories regarding Capitol Hill. Time is your greatest enemy on the Hill, with schedules turning on a dime based on votes and all sorts of crises. As frustrating or difficult as it is at times, it’s also really exhilarating and definitely something I would like to pursue.
Sunday, May 20, 2007
Une interview de Sibel Edmonds, dénonciatrice du FBI (1ère partie)
Serait-ce en le baîllon que nous avons foi ?
Une interview de Sibel Edmonds, dénonciatrice du FBI (1ère partie)
Par Khatchig Mouradian
http://www.armenews.com/article.php3?id_article=32030
The Armenian Weekly (www.armenianweekly.com)
Volume 73 ; Numéro 19, 12 Mai 2007
Traduction Gilbert Béguian
Sibel Simmonds, experte en langues au FBI, a été licenciée du bureau local du FBI de Washington en mars 2002. On lui reprochait d’avoir dénoncé des manquements à la sécurité, des camouflages, de la rétention d’information, et la corruption de certains citoyens des USA parmi lesquels des hauts fonctionnaires. Le secret d’état a été souvent invoqué pour faire obstacle à toute action en justice relative à son affaire, et le bâillon a souvent été utilisé au sein même du Congrès des USA pour y interdire toute discussion.
Edmonds a révélé, par exemple, une secrète collusion entre des groupes turcs et le précédent président de la Chambre des représentants, Dennis Hastert ( Républicain, Illinois), qui aurait reçu, selon certaines sources, des dizaines de milliers de dollars en pots-de-vin en échange du retrait de la résolution sur le Génocide des Arméniens du bureau de la Chambre des représentants en 2000.
Née en 1970 en Iran, Edmonds a obtenu un diplôme universitaire en justice et psychologie criminelles de l’Université George Washington et une maîtrise en sciences politiques et commerce international de l’Université George Manson. Elle est la fondatrice et directrice de la National Security Whistleblowers Coalition (NSWBC, groupement de surveillance de la sécurité nationale) et a reçu, en 2006, le prix special PEN/Newman du Premier Amendement. Elle parle le turc, le farsi et l’azéri.
Cette interview a été faite le 23 avril à Washington. Pour plus d’informations sur son cas, visiter le site www.justacitizen.com
Khatchig Mouradian- Votre premier contact avec la Commission Judiciaire du Sénat dénoncer le cas de corruption turque de hauts fonctionnaires américains date de plus de cinq ans. Pourriez-vous nous dire comment cette affaire a évolué ensuite, et où elle en est aujourd’hui ?
Sibel Edmonds- Bien sûr. Cela fait un peu plus de cinq ans que je me suis présentée devant la Commission Judiciaire du Sénat pour que soient informés, en même temps et à huis clos, les collaborateurs du Sénateur Charles Grassley (Républicain, Iowa) et du Sénateur Patrick Leahy (Démocrate, Vermont). Je leur ai remis les références des documents spécifiques, le nom de ces documents, le nom des cibles spécifiques et dans leur détail, tous les éléments relatifs à mon affaire. Comme vous vous en souvenez peut-être, quelques mois après cette information de la commission judiciaire du Sénat, chacun de ces deux Sénateurs a commencé à en parler ouvertement dans les média. Nous avons vu le Sénateur Grassley déclarer dans l’émission 60 Minutes de CBS à quel point cette affaire le scandalisait. Des membres du FBI ont confirmé tous ces faits et ont dit qu’il conviendrait de mettre le FBI sens dessus dessous à la suite de cette affaire. Le Sénateur Leahy a fait des déclarations similaires et les deux sénateurs se sont efforcé de créer une audition sur cette affaire. J’ai appris par la suite qu’à ce moment là, le Président s’était opposé à une audition dans laquelle un certain nombre de personnes - parmi lesquelles des agents du FBI dignes de confiance qui auraient dit la vérité sous serment - auraient pu témoigner et faire la lumière sur cette affaire.
Après deux ans d’enquête, le rapport public rendu par le Bureau de l’Inspecteur Général du Département de la Justice. confirmait le contenu de mon propre rapport. Bien que mes déclarations soient soutenues par des documents et par d’autres témoignages, le FBI refusait d’ouvrir une instruction ou une enquête sur cette affaire. Au cours des cinq années qui viennent de s’écouler, voilà donc une affaire confirmée par certaines sources du Congrès, par des personnes au courant des faits, puis par le Bureau de l’Inspecteur Général du Département de la Justice, à aucun moment niée ou contestée par le Département de la Justice ou le FBI, mais pour laquelle rien n’a été encore fait.
Il n’y a eu aucune audition et personne n’a été tenu pour responsable. Nous en sommes à peu près au point où nous en étions au début et je trouve cela vraiment scandaleux.
C’est une situation déplorable et pas seulement pour ce qui me concerne ou pour ce qui concerne cette affaire en particulier. Beaucoup de gens peuvent penser qu’il ne s’agit que d’un cas de dénonciation parmi d’autres, celui d’une experte de langues qui travaillant pour le FBI et injustement licenciée. Mais je n’aurais pas été licenciée si je n’avais pas mis en évidence des faits important pour les citoyens américains, et même pour les personnes vivant en dehors des Etats-Unis. Cette affaire met en lumière plusieurs domaines importants, comme notre politique étrangère, qui est minée par l’hypocrisie. Nous ne parlons pas seulement de citoyens d’autres pays que le nôtre : nous parlons de nous-mêmes, nous parlons de fonctionnaires américains qui se sont engagés dans des actes contraires aux intérêts public américains et contraire nos devoirs.
Mais le peuple américain ignore encore tout de cette affaire, et le Congrès n’a rien fait malgré la totale information de ses membres et l’entière confirmation qu’ils en ont eu.
K.M.- C’est à se demander qui en réalité travaille pour les citoyens et qui travaille à son profit personnel et privé ?
S.E.- Cela est important, il est question ici de l’intérêt individuel par rapport à l’intérêt du peuple américain, et tout particulièrement parce qu’il s’agit d’employés du service public. Ce sont des personnes à qui sont donnés l’accès à des informations liées à la sécurité publique et à des documents ultrasecrets. J’insiste : cela n’est pas le fait d’un parti plutôt qu’un autre, de la droite plutôt que la gauche, ni le fait de l’administration au pouvoir au détriment d’autres organismes. Lorsqu’on rentre dans les détails de ces affaires, on découvre que ces personnes, ont usé et abusé de leur position pendant un certain temps. Et nous avons regardé de l’autre côté. Et les media principaux ont détourné leur regard. Il ne s’agit pas de faits ultrasecrets. Ces personnes, il suffit de les regarder.
Voyez le cas par exemple de M. Marc Grossman. Alors qu’il était en fonction, il a mis a profit son titre d’ambassadeur des USA en Turquie et son appartenance au Ministère des Affaires étrangères pour s’assurer de futures promotions ; pendant son service et au su de plusieurs organismes de contrôle, je tiens à insister sur ce point. Quelques personnes dans ces organismes voulaient enquêter sur ces faits mais elles en ont été empêchées.
Dans mon cas, il convient que je vous donne un seul exemple. J’ai été informée par mes chefs- et ces personnes sont des bons chefs ordinaires, des personnes avec qui je travaille - que le Pentagone et le Ministère des Affaires étrangères exerçaient des pressions sur le Ministère de la Justice pour étouffer l’affaire. Il n’y a qu’à regarder où en est M. Grossman aujourd’hui. Peu de temps après qu’il ait donné sa démission, il a obtenu un poste dans une compagnie turque semi régulière, ce qui constitue une récompense pécuniaire très attractive.
On peut relever des cas similaires, comme ceux de M. Douglas Feith et M. Richard Perle. Ils étaient agents étrangers attitrés pour la Turquie entre 1988 et 1995. Il s’agissait de fonctions très lucratives et sur ce point, ils n’étaient pas représentatifs des membres Gouvernement américain. Après avoir chacun démissionné de leur haute fonction dans le Gouvernement des USA en 2000, pensez vous qu’il y ait eu un changement quelconque sur les vrais intérêts qu’ils représentaient ?
Et malheureusement de telles situations se produisent du côté du Congrès. Il y a eu le cas de Solaris, membre du Congrès à la fin des années 80 et au début des années 90. Il y a eu le cas de Livingston, membre du Congrès - plus tard son Président - et la fonction qu’il avait comme représentant d’un intérêt étranger. Et c’est ce qu’on pourra voir sous peu avec les membres actuels du congrès, comme le président précédent Hastert. Il revient au public américain et aux media principaux de s’intéresser à ces questions. Ce dont nous parlons ici vaut pour un seul pays, la Turquie. Combien y en a-t-il d’autres ? Et pourquoi détournent-ils leur regard ? Notre peuple sait-il que nous faisons confiance et donnons autorité à des gens qui ne les représentent pas ?
K.M.- Vous êtes simplement une personne et vous êtes traductrice, travaillant sur des sujets principalement relatifs à la Turquie. Vous avez environ 200 collègues. Qui sait combien de telles affaires ont lieu ? Cette histoire, votre histoire, en soi, suffit à montrer à quel point le système est corrompu.
S.E.- Mon affaire a été connue jusqu’à un certain point par les actions dans lesquelles je me suis engagée, comme mes démarches en justice, au Congrès, etc. Il y a des affaires similaires qui ne sont pas ébruitées. Par exemple, le cas Larry Franklin, dans l’affaire d’espionnage avec AIPAC (American Israel Public Affairs Committee, groupe de pression visant à soutenir Israel ).
Le public américain ne sait pas qu’il y a eu d’autres opérations de contre-renseignement au sein du FBI qui ont fourni beaucoup plus d’informations pas seulement limitées à M. Franklin. D’autres opérations ont été interrompues en 2000 et 2001 parce qu’elles finissaient par atteindre des niveaux plus élevés et impliquaient beaucoup trop de personnes. Je parle de personnes qui agissent illégalement, qui abusent de la confiance et de leur pouvoir, et qui, dans certains cas, se rendent coupables de trahison.
Encore une fois, il est très facile de voir ce qui s’est passé dans mon cas. Quelle conclusion les gens qui veulent bien faire et avancer peuvent-ils tirer de mon affaire ?
Ils peuvent se dire que cela finalement ne change rien, parce que j’ai usé de toutes les possibilités d’action offertes.
Je suis allée aussi loin que possible auprès des tribunaux, jusqu’à la Cour Suprême, et comme vous le savez, ils m’ont imposé le baîllon en invoquant le Secret d’Etat. Ils disent que tout, dans mon affaire - y compris mon lieu de naissance, les langues que je parle, tout - est classé secret. Il m’est interdit de discuter le point de savoir si j’ai raison ou tort. Et je suis allé partout au Congrès, j’y ai fait ce qu’il fallait. Il ne m’a pas considéré comme un auteur de fuites qui va tout raconter aux media et divulgue des documents classés secrets.
Je me suis présentée devant les commissions compétentes, la Commission Judiciaire et la Commission du Renseignement, et aussi, incidemment, à la Chambre des Représentants et au Sénat...J’ai exploré les possibilités d’autres structures compétentes- les tribunaux, le Bureau de l’Inspecteur Général, qui dépend de l’exécutif. J’ai essayé les média. Par conséquent, je ne blâme pas les pessimistes qui disent que cela ne change rien, ou qui pensent qu’ils perdront leur emploi ou qu’ils risquent peut-être la prison. Beaucoup de ces personnes sont soutiens de famille. Ce sont des gens consciencieux, mais ils ont derrière eux 15 à 20 ans de carrière et pensent, « je suis à 5 ans de la retraite et je ne vais pas gâcher cela » . Il y a donc de nombreuses raisons pour lesquelles beaucoup de personnes ne s’avancent pas.
Ils vous prennent en exemple. Parce que si une affaire, la mienne par exemple, débouchait sur une vraie décision de justice et établirait les responsabilités, vous verriez un certain nombre de gens faire de même. Et combien de fois - disons seulement sur la dernière décennie- avez-vous vu le dénonciateur de l’une quelconque de ces administrations s’avancer et se montrer ? je ne pense pas que vous pourrez en citer un seul.
Vous pouvez également constater la culpabilité d’autres organismes, quelquefois même non intentionnellement. Il y a beaucoup à reprocher par exemple à nos principaux media. Délibérément ou non, ils sont complices en ne relatant pas ce qu’ils devraient relater, et en n’enquêtant pas sur ce sur quoi ils le devraient. Ils ont abdiqué leur responsabilité.
Et vers quoi tournons nous nos regards lorsqu’il s’agit d’enquêtes de responsabilités ? Vers le Congrès. Et il y a eu une raison majeure si nous n’avons pas vu appelées plus de personnes issues du FBI, agents avec lesquels j’ai travaillé- solides, patriotes, bons Américains, dévoués.
Ils étaient autant indignés que je l’étais lorsque j’ai découvert ces affaires et fait un rapport interne. Si la Commission Judiciaire ou celle des Affaires du Gouvernement à la Chambre des Représentants avait organisé une audition et convoqué ces agents pour témoigner, ils auraient dit la vérité sous serment.
K.M.- Alors, quelle est selon vous, la définition d’un agent des USA aujourd’hui ?
S.E.- Je ne peux pas parler d’autres administrations, mais s’agissant du FBI, vous avez différents types d’opérations. Par exemple, si l’agent du FBI travaille sur une affaire criminelle, son rôle consiste à réunir des preuves sous le contrôle de la justice, de rechercher les criminels et les remettre à la justice. Jusqu’à un certain point, le contenu de la fonction reste la même pour les opérations anti-terroristes, celles dévolues à la division du FBI que je considère la plus importante, mais qui marche malheureusement le plus mal. Vous avez des agents, des traducteurs et des analystes qui surveillent les activités -parfois criminelles, parfois liées à l’espionnage- de groupes étrangers dans notre pays. Au cas où ils sont en mission sur des activités criminelles et si des citoyens américains y sont engagés, ils doivent relever les faits, en faire un rapport, se rendre au Département de la Justice, aller dans les tribunaux et commencer des enquêtes parallèles, non plus au titre d’affaire de contre-renseignement, mais à celui d’affaires criminelles ou d’espionnage.
C’est ce qui s’est passé dans cette affaire AIPAC. Elle a commencé au bureau local de Washington où je travaillais bien avant mes débuts au FBI ; les opérations ont débuté au titre du contre-renseignement avec les traducteurs et les analystes et agents avec lesquels j’étais en relation.
Les cibles n’étaient pas de nationalité américaines. Ils s’agissait, disons en termes hypothétiques, de groupes affiliés à l’AIPAC et émanant de l’Ambassade d’Israel. Ce n’est qu’après que ces activités explosives soient apparues et qu’un certain agent impliqué ait décidé de les attaquer de front, avant l’année 2000 - qu’une enquête parallèle fut ouverte. C’est ensuite que nous avons été informés du rôle de Feith et Larry Franklin.
La même chose était sur le point de se développer avec le contre renseignement turc dans le corps du texte de la transcription - mise sur écoute ou papier - d’opérations que j’avais traduite mot pour mot pour le Bureau local de Washington mais aussi pour ceux de Chicago et de New Jersey. Elles avaient été conduites avant 2001. S’il fallait y mettre une date, on pourrait la situer vers 1996 à 2001. En 1998 et 1999, il y avait un grand nombre de pièces démontrant l’implication de citoyens américains.
Nous voulons parler de personnes titulaires de fonctions officielles, soit au Département d’Etat, soit au Pentagone, soit au Congrès. Les agents firent ce qui convenait en engageant une procédure parallèle ciblant les individus supposés commettre des actes de trahison. Cependant, comme j’en ai été informée en première main par des agents avec lesquels je travaillais, cette procédure fut arrêtée en 1999 car le Président Clinton était impliqué dans le scandale Lewinski. Après que l’administration courante fut mise en place et que j’y sois attachée, les agents eurent pour instruction de la clore. Les personnes qui prirent cette décisison n’appartenaient ni au Ministère de la Justice ni au FBI, et chose que j’essaie de souligner tout le temps - ils étaient sous pression, ils étaient contraints par des forces du Pentagone et du Département d’Etat. Et quelles raisons étaient-elles données derrière la scène ? Je ne sais pas, je n’étais pas là, mais ils donnèrent des explications et justifications identiques devant les tribunaux : « vous parlez de relations diplomatiques extrêmement sensibles. »
Et en fait, par la suite, le Ministre de la Justice Ashcroft, alors qu’il invoquait le secret d’état dans mon affaire, déclara qu’exposer ces questions devant les tribunaux, à tort ou à raison, détériorerait certaines relations diplomatiques sensibles et entraverait certaines relations d’affaires des USA avec l’étranger. Nous savons que l’un des pays visé était la Turquie. Ainsi vous avez là une citoyenne américaine qui a été privée des droits que lui donne le Premier amendement. Baillonnée. Je veux dire, est ce là un concept américain, baillonner une personne ? Vous ne parlez pas là d’un combattant ennemi, vous ne parlez pas là d’un suspect de terrorisme. Vous voyez un citoyen américain respectueux des lois qui paye ses taxes,
Ainsi ces relations d’affaires, ces relations diplomatiques ont justifié la privation d’un citoyen américain des droits que lui donne le Premier amendement, et de ses droits du Quatrième amendement devant un tribunal. En fait, le Département d’Etat des USA a fait une classification rétroactive illégalement et le Congrès a été effectvement baillonné en mai 2004. Ils ne disent même pas à quelles relations diplomatiques ils se réfèrent. En ont-ils honte ? Parlons nous de milliards de dollars en fournitures d’armes ? Pourquoi ne sont-ils pas plus spécifiques ? Parce qu’il s’agit de choses ultrasecrètes, confidentielles. C’est pour cela que j’ai fait ces rapports, selon des sources extérieures d’information fiables, recueillant l’ensemble des données.
Vous faites référence à 5 milliards de dollars tous les deux ans en fourniture d’armes ? Cela n’est pas ultrasecret. Qui bénéficie de cela ? Quelles compagnies ? Qui sont les individus qui en tirent bénéfice ? Et y a-t-il quoi que ce soit dans les questions que je soulève qui pourrait porter atteinte aux Américains et à leur sécurité, si elles étaient dévoilées ? Rien. Rien du tout.
En fait, ce sont des questions et ce sont des affaires qui pourraient être bénéfiques à leur sécurité nationale parce que les mêmes activités couvrent également le blanchiement de l’argent de certaines activités de stupéfiants. Tout ce qu’il y a à faire, c’est de prendre connaissance des propres rapports du Département d’Etat sur la Turquie et l’opium. Quatre vingt douze pour cent de l’héroine fournie en Europe arrive par la Turquie, et elle est commercialisée et distribuée par des ressortissants turcs.
Ces informations ne sont pas confidentielles. Elles se trouvent dans le propre rapport du Département d’Etat. Les fleurs de pavot sont cultivés en Afghanistan, les Talibans en tirent les bénéfices, et les membres d’Al Qaïda tirent le bénéfice de la vente de ces fleurs de pavot à des individus en Turquie qui ensuite distribuent et fournissent 92 pour cent du marché de l’héroïne européen.
Avons-nous dit « prenez des mesures contre ces activités de stupéfiants parce qu’elles servent au terrorisme, et parce que les terroristes sont une menace pour la sécurité nationale ? » Non, nous ne l’avons pas dit. Time Magazine a fait un article de 11 pages sur la façon dont la production d’opium en Afghanistan a été augmentée.
La valeur de cette production d’opium a même été calculée.
Et il y a eu des déclarations de divers membres du Congrès, dont Walter Jones qui s’est rendu en Afghanistan, disant que beaucoup de cet argent est destiné au soutien d’Al Qaïda et des Talibans.
Le montant s’élève entre 38 et 50 milliards de dollars par an. Ce même article limite la production de pavots à quelques fermiers. Et vous imaginez ces Afghans en shalvar cultivant les pavots là-bas, et vous pensez bien que ces quelques personnes ne sont pas capables de gérer une industrie de 50 milliards. Ils n’en obtiennent qu’une petite part. La transformation du pavot en héroïne et son acheminement à travers les routes des Balkans sont assurés par des citoyens turcs. Et il ne s’agit pas de voyous ordinaires de Turquie, il s’agit de militaires turcs et de la police turque. En 2000, un professeur de Turquie a fait une étude documentée disant qu’un quart de l’économie turque repose sur la production et la distribution d’héroïne. Evidemment, il a du quitter le pays, se réfugier en Allemagne et y demander l’asile politique parce qu’il s’est rendu coupable de trahison pour avoir critiqué le gouvernement turc.
Time Magazine n’a pas parlé des acteurs principaux, des hauts placés, des puissants qui distribuent, produisent, commercialisent et blanchissent les produits. Ces gens ne sont pas inquiétés. Si vous lisez l’étude, vous y trouverez les pays concernés - la Turquie, Chypre, les Emirats Arabes Unis. Mais ils sont opportunément laissés de côté dans l’article de Time Magazine, laissant chaque Américain conclure que les fermiers gagnent 50 milliards de dollars par an. Là encore, le coupable en est Time Magazine car ce n’est pas le cas.
Tandis que le rapport montre l’implication turque, celle des Emirats Arabes Unis et pakistanaise, nous disons qu’ils sont nos alliés que nous ne voulons pas les affecter, les abandonner. En fait nous faisons beaucoup d’affaires et avons des relations diplomatiques sensibles avec eux, ainsi que le relève Don Ashcroft. Mais si aucun d’entre eux ne fait partie de l’axe du mal, si l’un d’entre eux était la Syrie, si l’un d’entre eux était l’Iran, si l’un d’entre eux était la Corée du Nord, s’il s’agissait de Sadam, vous verriez quel tapage cela soulèverait - comment le pays et le peuple de Saddam aident les Talibans financièrement et AlQaïda avec ces questions. Mais il y a eu ce gros « holà » ! Ils sont nos très proches alliés, ceux à qui sont donnés des aides de milliards de dollars, qui nous reviennent pour nous acheter des armes. Nous ne pouvons faire du surplace sur de tels sujets. Nous avons trop de gens puissants, trop de puissantes compagnies qui en tirent bénéfice.
Qui représente le peuple américain ? Nous savons bien que le précédent président M. Livingston représente aujourd’hui ces intérêts à l’extérieur, donc notre Congrès représente ces puissances étrangères. Mais qui en réalité représente le citoyen américain ? Et comment ? Il est très difficile d’en suivre les antécédents. C’est cela que l’on souhaiterait voir traiter par les principaux media de ce pays, et ils ne le font pas.
Une interview de Sibel Edmonds, dénonciatrice du FBI (1ère partie)
Par Khatchig Mouradian
http://www.armenews.com/article.php3?id_article=32030
The Armenian Weekly (www.armenianweekly.com)
Volume 73 ; Numéro 19, 12 Mai 2007
Traduction Gilbert Béguian
Sibel Simmonds, experte en langues au FBI, a été licenciée du bureau local du FBI de Washington en mars 2002. On lui reprochait d’avoir dénoncé des manquements à la sécurité, des camouflages, de la rétention d’information, et la corruption de certains citoyens des USA parmi lesquels des hauts fonctionnaires. Le secret d’état a été souvent invoqué pour faire obstacle à toute action en justice relative à son affaire, et le bâillon a souvent été utilisé au sein même du Congrès des USA pour y interdire toute discussion.
Edmonds a révélé, par exemple, une secrète collusion entre des groupes turcs et le précédent président de la Chambre des représentants, Dennis Hastert ( Républicain, Illinois), qui aurait reçu, selon certaines sources, des dizaines de milliers de dollars en pots-de-vin en échange du retrait de la résolution sur le Génocide des Arméniens du bureau de la Chambre des représentants en 2000.
Née en 1970 en Iran, Edmonds a obtenu un diplôme universitaire en justice et psychologie criminelles de l’Université George Washington et une maîtrise en sciences politiques et commerce international de l’Université George Manson. Elle est la fondatrice et directrice de la National Security Whistleblowers Coalition (NSWBC, groupement de surveillance de la sécurité nationale) et a reçu, en 2006, le prix special PEN/Newman du Premier Amendement. Elle parle le turc, le farsi et l’azéri.
Cette interview a été faite le 23 avril à Washington. Pour plus d’informations sur son cas, visiter le site www.justacitizen.com
Khatchig Mouradian- Votre premier contact avec la Commission Judiciaire du Sénat dénoncer le cas de corruption turque de hauts fonctionnaires américains date de plus de cinq ans. Pourriez-vous nous dire comment cette affaire a évolué ensuite, et où elle en est aujourd’hui ?
Sibel Edmonds- Bien sûr. Cela fait un peu plus de cinq ans que je me suis présentée devant la Commission Judiciaire du Sénat pour que soient informés, en même temps et à huis clos, les collaborateurs du Sénateur Charles Grassley (Républicain, Iowa) et du Sénateur Patrick Leahy (Démocrate, Vermont). Je leur ai remis les références des documents spécifiques, le nom de ces documents, le nom des cibles spécifiques et dans leur détail, tous les éléments relatifs à mon affaire. Comme vous vous en souvenez peut-être, quelques mois après cette information de la commission judiciaire du Sénat, chacun de ces deux Sénateurs a commencé à en parler ouvertement dans les média. Nous avons vu le Sénateur Grassley déclarer dans l’émission 60 Minutes de CBS à quel point cette affaire le scandalisait. Des membres du FBI ont confirmé tous ces faits et ont dit qu’il conviendrait de mettre le FBI sens dessus dessous à la suite de cette affaire. Le Sénateur Leahy a fait des déclarations similaires et les deux sénateurs se sont efforcé de créer une audition sur cette affaire. J’ai appris par la suite qu’à ce moment là, le Président s’était opposé à une audition dans laquelle un certain nombre de personnes - parmi lesquelles des agents du FBI dignes de confiance qui auraient dit la vérité sous serment - auraient pu témoigner et faire la lumière sur cette affaire.
Après deux ans d’enquête, le rapport public rendu par le Bureau de l’Inspecteur Général du Département de la Justice. confirmait le contenu de mon propre rapport. Bien que mes déclarations soient soutenues par des documents et par d’autres témoignages, le FBI refusait d’ouvrir une instruction ou une enquête sur cette affaire. Au cours des cinq années qui viennent de s’écouler, voilà donc une affaire confirmée par certaines sources du Congrès, par des personnes au courant des faits, puis par le Bureau de l’Inspecteur Général du Département de la Justice, à aucun moment niée ou contestée par le Département de la Justice ou le FBI, mais pour laquelle rien n’a été encore fait.
Il n’y a eu aucune audition et personne n’a été tenu pour responsable. Nous en sommes à peu près au point où nous en étions au début et je trouve cela vraiment scandaleux.
C’est une situation déplorable et pas seulement pour ce qui me concerne ou pour ce qui concerne cette affaire en particulier. Beaucoup de gens peuvent penser qu’il ne s’agit que d’un cas de dénonciation parmi d’autres, celui d’une experte de langues qui travaillant pour le FBI et injustement licenciée. Mais je n’aurais pas été licenciée si je n’avais pas mis en évidence des faits important pour les citoyens américains, et même pour les personnes vivant en dehors des Etats-Unis. Cette affaire met en lumière plusieurs domaines importants, comme notre politique étrangère, qui est minée par l’hypocrisie. Nous ne parlons pas seulement de citoyens d’autres pays que le nôtre : nous parlons de nous-mêmes, nous parlons de fonctionnaires américains qui se sont engagés dans des actes contraires aux intérêts public américains et contraire nos devoirs.
Mais le peuple américain ignore encore tout de cette affaire, et le Congrès n’a rien fait malgré la totale information de ses membres et l’entière confirmation qu’ils en ont eu.
K.M.- C’est à se demander qui en réalité travaille pour les citoyens et qui travaille à son profit personnel et privé ?
S.E.- Cela est important, il est question ici de l’intérêt individuel par rapport à l’intérêt du peuple américain, et tout particulièrement parce qu’il s’agit d’employés du service public. Ce sont des personnes à qui sont donnés l’accès à des informations liées à la sécurité publique et à des documents ultrasecrets. J’insiste : cela n’est pas le fait d’un parti plutôt qu’un autre, de la droite plutôt que la gauche, ni le fait de l’administration au pouvoir au détriment d’autres organismes. Lorsqu’on rentre dans les détails de ces affaires, on découvre que ces personnes, ont usé et abusé de leur position pendant un certain temps. Et nous avons regardé de l’autre côté. Et les media principaux ont détourné leur regard. Il ne s’agit pas de faits ultrasecrets. Ces personnes, il suffit de les regarder.
Voyez le cas par exemple de M. Marc Grossman. Alors qu’il était en fonction, il a mis a profit son titre d’ambassadeur des USA en Turquie et son appartenance au Ministère des Affaires étrangères pour s’assurer de futures promotions ; pendant son service et au su de plusieurs organismes de contrôle, je tiens à insister sur ce point. Quelques personnes dans ces organismes voulaient enquêter sur ces faits mais elles en ont été empêchées.
Dans mon cas, il convient que je vous donne un seul exemple. J’ai été informée par mes chefs- et ces personnes sont des bons chefs ordinaires, des personnes avec qui je travaille - que le Pentagone et le Ministère des Affaires étrangères exerçaient des pressions sur le Ministère de la Justice pour étouffer l’affaire. Il n’y a qu’à regarder où en est M. Grossman aujourd’hui. Peu de temps après qu’il ait donné sa démission, il a obtenu un poste dans une compagnie turque semi régulière, ce qui constitue une récompense pécuniaire très attractive.
On peut relever des cas similaires, comme ceux de M. Douglas Feith et M. Richard Perle. Ils étaient agents étrangers attitrés pour la Turquie entre 1988 et 1995. Il s’agissait de fonctions très lucratives et sur ce point, ils n’étaient pas représentatifs des membres Gouvernement américain. Après avoir chacun démissionné de leur haute fonction dans le Gouvernement des USA en 2000, pensez vous qu’il y ait eu un changement quelconque sur les vrais intérêts qu’ils représentaient ?
Et malheureusement de telles situations se produisent du côté du Congrès. Il y a eu le cas de Solaris, membre du Congrès à la fin des années 80 et au début des années 90. Il y a eu le cas de Livingston, membre du Congrès - plus tard son Président - et la fonction qu’il avait comme représentant d’un intérêt étranger. Et c’est ce qu’on pourra voir sous peu avec les membres actuels du congrès, comme le président précédent Hastert. Il revient au public américain et aux media principaux de s’intéresser à ces questions. Ce dont nous parlons ici vaut pour un seul pays, la Turquie. Combien y en a-t-il d’autres ? Et pourquoi détournent-ils leur regard ? Notre peuple sait-il que nous faisons confiance et donnons autorité à des gens qui ne les représentent pas ?
K.M.- Vous êtes simplement une personne et vous êtes traductrice, travaillant sur des sujets principalement relatifs à la Turquie. Vous avez environ 200 collègues. Qui sait combien de telles affaires ont lieu ? Cette histoire, votre histoire, en soi, suffit à montrer à quel point le système est corrompu.
S.E.- Mon affaire a été connue jusqu’à un certain point par les actions dans lesquelles je me suis engagée, comme mes démarches en justice, au Congrès, etc. Il y a des affaires similaires qui ne sont pas ébruitées. Par exemple, le cas Larry Franklin, dans l’affaire d’espionnage avec AIPAC (American Israel Public Affairs Committee, groupe de pression visant à soutenir Israel ).
Le public américain ne sait pas qu’il y a eu d’autres opérations de contre-renseignement au sein du FBI qui ont fourni beaucoup plus d’informations pas seulement limitées à M. Franklin. D’autres opérations ont été interrompues en 2000 et 2001 parce qu’elles finissaient par atteindre des niveaux plus élevés et impliquaient beaucoup trop de personnes. Je parle de personnes qui agissent illégalement, qui abusent de la confiance et de leur pouvoir, et qui, dans certains cas, se rendent coupables de trahison.
Encore une fois, il est très facile de voir ce qui s’est passé dans mon cas. Quelle conclusion les gens qui veulent bien faire et avancer peuvent-ils tirer de mon affaire ?
Ils peuvent se dire que cela finalement ne change rien, parce que j’ai usé de toutes les possibilités d’action offertes.
Je suis allée aussi loin que possible auprès des tribunaux, jusqu’à la Cour Suprême, et comme vous le savez, ils m’ont imposé le baîllon en invoquant le Secret d’Etat. Ils disent que tout, dans mon affaire - y compris mon lieu de naissance, les langues que je parle, tout - est classé secret. Il m’est interdit de discuter le point de savoir si j’ai raison ou tort. Et je suis allé partout au Congrès, j’y ai fait ce qu’il fallait. Il ne m’a pas considéré comme un auteur de fuites qui va tout raconter aux media et divulgue des documents classés secrets.
Je me suis présentée devant les commissions compétentes, la Commission Judiciaire et la Commission du Renseignement, et aussi, incidemment, à la Chambre des Représentants et au Sénat...J’ai exploré les possibilités d’autres structures compétentes- les tribunaux, le Bureau de l’Inspecteur Général, qui dépend de l’exécutif. J’ai essayé les média. Par conséquent, je ne blâme pas les pessimistes qui disent que cela ne change rien, ou qui pensent qu’ils perdront leur emploi ou qu’ils risquent peut-être la prison. Beaucoup de ces personnes sont soutiens de famille. Ce sont des gens consciencieux, mais ils ont derrière eux 15 à 20 ans de carrière et pensent, « je suis à 5 ans de la retraite et je ne vais pas gâcher cela » . Il y a donc de nombreuses raisons pour lesquelles beaucoup de personnes ne s’avancent pas.
Ils vous prennent en exemple. Parce que si une affaire, la mienne par exemple, débouchait sur une vraie décision de justice et établirait les responsabilités, vous verriez un certain nombre de gens faire de même. Et combien de fois - disons seulement sur la dernière décennie- avez-vous vu le dénonciateur de l’une quelconque de ces administrations s’avancer et se montrer ? je ne pense pas que vous pourrez en citer un seul.
Vous pouvez également constater la culpabilité d’autres organismes, quelquefois même non intentionnellement. Il y a beaucoup à reprocher par exemple à nos principaux media. Délibérément ou non, ils sont complices en ne relatant pas ce qu’ils devraient relater, et en n’enquêtant pas sur ce sur quoi ils le devraient. Ils ont abdiqué leur responsabilité.
Et vers quoi tournons nous nos regards lorsqu’il s’agit d’enquêtes de responsabilités ? Vers le Congrès. Et il y a eu une raison majeure si nous n’avons pas vu appelées plus de personnes issues du FBI, agents avec lesquels j’ai travaillé- solides, patriotes, bons Américains, dévoués.
Ils étaient autant indignés que je l’étais lorsque j’ai découvert ces affaires et fait un rapport interne. Si la Commission Judiciaire ou celle des Affaires du Gouvernement à la Chambre des Représentants avait organisé une audition et convoqué ces agents pour témoigner, ils auraient dit la vérité sous serment.
K.M.- Alors, quelle est selon vous, la définition d’un agent des USA aujourd’hui ?
S.E.- Je ne peux pas parler d’autres administrations, mais s’agissant du FBI, vous avez différents types d’opérations. Par exemple, si l’agent du FBI travaille sur une affaire criminelle, son rôle consiste à réunir des preuves sous le contrôle de la justice, de rechercher les criminels et les remettre à la justice. Jusqu’à un certain point, le contenu de la fonction reste la même pour les opérations anti-terroristes, celles dévolues à la division du FBI que je considère la plus importante, mais qui marche malheureusement le plus mal. Vous avez des agents, des traducteurs et des analystes qui surveillent les activités -parfois criminelles, parfois liées à l’espionnage- de groupes étrangers dans notre pays. Au cas où ils sont en mission sur des activités criminelles et si des citoyens américains y sont engagés, ils doivent relever les faits, en faire un rapport, se rendre au Département de la Justice, aller dans les tribunaux et commencer des enquêtes parallèles, non plus au titre d’affaire de contre-renseignement, mais à celui d’affaires criminelles ou d’espionnage.
C’est ce qui s’est passé dans cette affaire AIPAC. Elle a commencé au bureau local de Washington où je travaillais bien avant mes débuts au FBI ; les opérations ont débuté au titre du contre-renseignement avec les traducteurs et les analystes et agents avec lesquels j’étais en relation.
Les cibles n’étaient pas de nationalité américaines. Ils s’agissait, disons en termes hypothétiques, de groupes affiliés à l’AIPAC et émanant de l’Ambassade d’Israel. Ce n’est qu’après que ces activités explosives soient apparues et qu’un certain agent impliqué ait décidé de les attaquer de front, avant l’année 2000 - qu’une enquête parallèle fut ouverte. C’est ensuite que nous avons été informés du rôle de Feith et Larry Franklin.
La même chose était sur le point de se développer avec le contre renseignement turc dans le corps du texte de la transcription - mise sur écoute ou papier - d’opérations que j’avais traduite mot pour mot pour le Bureau local de Washington mais aussi pour ceux de Chicago et de New Jersey. Elles avaient été conduites avant 2001. S’il fallait y mettre une date, on pourrait la situer vers 1996 à 2001. En 1998 et 1999, il y avait un grand nombre de pièces démontrant l’implication de citoyens américains.
Nous voulons parler de personnes titulaires de fonctions officielles, soit au Département d’Etat, soit au Pentagone, soit au Congrès. Les agents firent ce qui convenait en engageant une procédure parallèle ciblant les individus supposés commettre des actes de trahison. Cependant, comme j’en ai été informée en première main par des agents avec lesquels je travaillais, cette procédure fut arrêtée en 1999 car le Président Clinton était impliqué dans le scandale Lewinski. Après que l’administration courante fut mise en place et que j’y sois attachée, les agents eurent pour instruction de la clore. Les personnes qui prirent cette décisison n’appartenaient ni au Ministère de la Justice ni au FBI, et chose que j’essaie de souligner tout le temps - ils étaient sous pression, ils étaient contraints par des forces du Pentagone et du Département d’Etat. Et quelles raisons étaient-elles données derrière la scène ? Je ne sais pas, je n’étais pas là, mais ils donnèrent des explications et justifications identiques devant les tribunaux : « vous parlez de relations diplomatiques extrêmement sensibles. »
Et en fait, par la suite, le Ministre de la Justice Ashcroft, alors qu’il invoquait le secret d’état dans mon affaire, déclara qu’exposer ces questions devant les tribunaux, à tort ou à raison, détériorerait certaines relations diplomatiques sensibles et entraverait certaines relations d’affaires des USA avec l’étranger. Nous savons que l’un des pays visé était la Turquie. Ainsi vous avez là une citoyenne américaine qui a été privée des droits que lui donne le Premier amendement. Baillonnée. Je veux dire, est ce là un concept américain, baillonner une personne ? Vous ne parlez pas là d’un combattant ennemi, vous ne parlez pas là d’un suspect de terrorisme. Vous voyez un citoyen américain respectueux des lois qui paye ses taxes,
Ainsi ces relations d’affaires, ces relations diplomatiques ont justifié la privation d’un citoyen américain des droits que lui donne le Premier amendement, et de ses droits du Quatrième amendement devant un tribunal. En fait, le Département d’Etat des USA a fait une classification rétroactive illégalement et le Congrès a été effectvement baillonné en mai 2004. Ils ne disent même pas à quelles relations diplomatiques ils se réfèrent. En ont-ils honte ? Parlons nous de milliards de dollars en fournitures d’armes ? Pourquoi ne sont-ils pas plus spécifiques ? Parce qu’il s’agit de choses ultrasecrètes, confidentielles. C’est pour cela que j’ai fait ces rapports, selon des sources extérieures d’information fiables, recueillant l’ensemble des données.
Vous faites référence à 5 milliards de dollars tous les deux ans en fourniture d’armes ? Cela n’est pas ultrasecret. Qui bénéficie de cela ? Quelles compagnies ? Qui sont les individus qui en tirent bénéfice ? Et y a-t-il quoi que ce soit dans les questions que je soulève qui pourrait porter atteinte aux Américains et à leur sécurité, si elles étaient dévoilées ? Rien. Rien du tout.
En fait, ce sont des questions et ce sont des affaires qui pourraient être bénéfiques à leur sécurité nationale parce que les mêmes activités couvrent également le blanchiement de l’argent de certaines activités de stupéfiants. Tout ce qu’il y a à faire, c’est de prendre connaissance des propres rapports du Département d’Etat sur la Turquie et l’opium. Quatre vingt douze pour cent de l’héroine fournie en Europe arrive par la Turquie, et elle est commercialisée et distribuée par des ressortissants turcs.
Ces informations ne sont pas confidentielles. Elles se trouvent dans le propre rapport du Département d’Etat. Les fleurs de pavot sont cultivés en Afghanistan, les Talibans en tirent les bénéfices, et les membres d’Al Qaïda tirent le bénéfice de la vente de ces fleurs de pavot à des individus en Turquie qui ensuite distribuent et fournissent 92 pour cent du marché de l’héroïne européen.
Avons-nous dit « prenez des mesures contre ces activités de stupéfiants parce qu’elles servent au terrorisme, et parce que les terroristes sont une menace pour la sécurité nationale ? » Non, nous ne l’avons pas dit. Time Magazine a fait un article de 11 pages sur la façon dont la production d’opium en Afghanistan a été augmentée.
La valeur de cette production d’opium a même été calculée.
Et il y a eu des déclarations de divers membres du Congrès, dont Walter Jones qui s’est rendu en Afghanistan, disant que beaucoup de cet argent est destiné au soutien d’Al Qaïda et des Talibans.
Le montant s’élève entre 38 et 50 milliards de dollars par an. Ce même article limite la production de pavots à quelques fermiers. Et vous imaginez ces Afghans en shalvar cultivant les pavots là-bas, et vous pensez bien que ces quelques personnes ne sont pas capables de gérer une industrie de 50 milliards. Ils n’en obtiennent qu’une petite part. La transformation du pavot en héroïne et son acheminement à travers les routes des Balkans sont assurés par des citoyens turcs. Et il ne s’agit pas de voyous ordinaires de Turquie, il s’agit de militaires turcs et de la police turque. En 2000, un professeur de Turquie a fait une étude documentée disant qu’un quart de l’économie turque repose sur la production et la distribution d’héroïne. Evidemment, il a du quitter le pays, se réfugier en Allemagne et y demander l’asile politique parce qu’il s’est rendu coupable de trahison pour avoir critiqué le gouvernement turc.
Time Magazine n’a pas parlé des acteurs principaux, des hauts placés, des puissants qui distribuent, produisent, commercialisent et blanchissent les produits. Ces gens ne sont pas inquiétés. Si vous lisez l’étude, vous y trouverez les pays concernés - la Turquie, Chypre, les Emirats Arabes Unis. Mais ils sont opportunément laissés de côté dans l’article de Time Magazine, laissant chaque Américain conclure que les fermiers gagnent 50 milliards de dollars par an. Là encore, le coupable en est Time Magazine car ce n’est pas le cas.
Tandis que le rapport montre l’implication turque, celle des Emirats Arabes Unis et pakistanaise, nous disons qu’ils sont nos alliés que nous ne voulons pas les affecter, les abandonner. En fait nous faisons beaucoup d’affaires et avons des relations diplomatiques sensibles avec eux, ainsi que le relève Don Ashcroft. Mais si aucun d’entre eux ne fait partie de l’axe du mal, si l’un d’entre eux était la Syrie, si l’un d’entre eux était l’Iran, si l’un d’entre eux était la Corée du Nord, s’il s’agissait de Sadam, vous verriez quel tapage cela soulèverait - comment le pays et le peuple de Saddam aident les Talibans financièrement et AlQaïda avec ces questions. Mais il y a eu ce gros « holà » ! Ils sont nos très proches alliés, ceux à qui sont donnés des aides de milliards de dollars, qui nous reviennent pour nous acheter des armes. Nous ne pouvons faire du surplace sur de tels sujets. Nous avons trop de gens puissants, trop de puissantes compagnies qui en tirent bénéfice.
Qui représente le peuple américain ? Nous savons bien que le précédent président M. Livingston représente aujourd’hui ces intérêts à l’extérieur, donc notre Congrès représente ces puissances étrangères. Mais qui en réalité représente le citoyen américain ? Et comment ? Il est très difficile d’en suivre les antécédents. C’est cela que l’on souhaiterait voir traiter par les principaux media de ce pays, et ils ne le font pas.
Saturday, February 24, 2007
Zahrad (1924-2007)
By Khatchig Mouradian
The Armenian Weekly
February 24, 2007
It was first and foremost a loss for poetry when Zahrad passed away on Feb. 21.
Zahrad (Zareh Yaldizciyan) was born in Istanbul in 1924. His father, Movses, was a jurist, advisor and translator in the Ottoman Foreign Ministry. His mother, Ankine Vartanian, was born in Samatia.
Zahrad received his intermediate and secondary school education at the Pangalti Mekhitariste School in Istanbul, graduating in 1942. He briefly attended medical school before he discontinued his university education to work. He married Anayis Antreasian in November 1963.
From Zareh to Zahrad
“I was 18 when I started writing,” Zahrad told journalist Talin Suciyan in the last interview he gave before his death (Nokta, Jan. 25-31, 2007). “If I had signed my name under my submissions to the newspapers, my family would have nagged me to death, saying ‘You are dealing with such meaningless stuff.’ To rescue myself from such words I made up the name ‘Zahrad.’ Time passed, my real name was forgotten, and ‘Zahrad’ became well-known.”
His first book, Medz Kaghak (big city), came out in 1960 in Istanbul. Kounavor Sahmanner (colored borders, Istanbul, 1968); Gananch Hogh (green soil, Paris, 1976); Pari Yergink (kind sky, Istanbul, 1971); Meg karov yergou karoun (two springs with one stone, Istanbul, 1989); Magh me chour (a sieve of water, Istanbul, 1995); Dzayre Dzayrin (a tight fit, 2001 Istanbul); and Choure baden Ver (water up the wall, Istanbul, 2004) followed.
His poems are translated into 22 languages. Collections of his poems have been published in English (“Gigo Poems by Zahrad,” 1969, translated by Agop Hacikyan; “Zahrad, Selected Poems,” 1974, translated by Ralph Setian); in Turkish (“Zahrad: Yag Damlasi” published by Iyi Seyler, 1993, reprinted in 2000); “Yapracigi goren balik” (published by Belge, 2002); “Isigini Sondurme Sakin” published by Adam, 2004); in Georgian (1997); and a number of other languages.
Enormous Oak Tree
“I prefer individuality in poetry. However, it does not make sense to go against the esthetic understanding of the era. My first 10-15 poems were written in classical style, in which I was a master. Later, I discontinued writing in that style, not because I was unsuccessful, but in order to follow the fashion of the time. I am not talking about the fashion of the mini-skirt, long hair, parting hair from the side or from the middle…I am talking about an esthetic point of view,” he told Suciyan during the interview for Nokta.
According to Levon Ananian, the president of Armenia’s Writers’ Union, Zahrad was the “enormous oak tree” of Diasporan poetry, and his literary legacy has left a deep and lasting effect on modern Armenian poetry, both in the Diaspora and Armenia.
“Zahrad creates a world where even the darkest shadows are illuminated with compassion and humor, albeit couched in an observer’s aloofness that acts as a shield for a very sensitive soul,” said Tatul Sonentz, whose translations of Zahrad are featured on page 9.
“Let me owe you a sieve of water,” Zahrad says in one of his poems. Yet, we owe him a river of fresh, joyful water, because that’s what he was for the sweet but melancholic pond of Armenian poetry.
By Khatchig Mouradian
The Armenian Weekly
February 24, 2007
It was first and foremost a loss for poetry when Zahrad passed away on Feb. 21.
Zahrad (Zareh Yaldizciyan) was born in Istanbul in 1924. His father, Movses, was a jurist, advisor and translator in the Ottoman Foreign Ministry. His mother, Ankine Vartanian, was born in Samatia.
Zahrad received his intermediate and secondary school education at the Pangalti Mekhitariste School in Istanbul, graduating in 1942. He briefly attended medical school before he discontinued his university education to work. He married Anayis Antreasian in November 1963.
From Zareh to Zahrad
“I was 18 when I started writing,” Zahrad told journalist Talin Suciyan in the last interview he gave before his death (Nokta, Jan. 25-31, 2007). “If I had signed my name under my submissions to the newspapers, my family would have nagged me to death, saying ‘You are dealing with such meaningless stuff.’ To rescue myself from such words I made up the name ‘Zahrad.’ Time passed, my real name was forgotten, and ‘Zahrad’ became well-known.”
His first book, Medz Kaghak (big city), came out in 1960 in Istanbul. Kounavor Sahmanner (colored borders, Istanbul, 1968); Gananch Hogh (green soil, Paris, 1976); Pari Yergink (kind sky, Istanbul, 1971); Meg karov yergou karoun (two springs with one stone, Istanbul, 1989); Magh me chour (a sieve of water, Istanbul, 1995); Dzayre Dzayrin (a tight fit, 2001 Istanbul); and Choure baden Ver (water up the wall, Istanbul, 2004) followed.
His poems are translated into 22 languages. Collections of his poems have been published in English (“Gigo Poems by Zahrad,” 1969, translated by Agop Hacikyan; “Zahrad, Selected Poems,” 1974, translated by Ralph Setian); in Turkish (“Zahrad: Yag Damlasi” published by Iyi Seyler, 1993, reprinted in 2000); “Yapracigi goren balik” (published by Belge, 2002); “Isigini Sondurme Sakin” published by Adam, 2004); in Georgian (1997); and a number of other languages.
Enormous Oak Tree
“I prefer individuality in poetry. However, it does not make sense to go against the esthetic understanding of the era. My first 10-15 poems were written in classical style, in which I was a master. Later, I discontinued writing in that style, not because I was unsuccessful, but in order to follow the fashion of the time. I am not talking about the fashion of the mini-skirt, long hair, parting hair from the side or from the middle…I am talking about an esthetic point of view,” he told Suciyan during the interview for Nokta.
According to Levon Ananian, the president of Armenia’s Writers’ Union, Zahrad was the “enormous oak tree” of Diasporan poetry, and his literary legacy has left a deep and lasting effect on modern Armenian poetry, both in the Diaspora and Armenia.
“Zahrad creates a world where even the darkest shadows are illuminated with compassion and humor, albeit couched in an observer’s aloofness that acts as a shield for a very sensitive soul,” said Tatul Sonentz, whose translations of Zahrad are featured on page 9.
“Let me owe you a sieve of water,” Zahrad says in one of his poems. Yet, we owe him a river of fresh, joyful water, because that’s what he was for the sweet but melancholic pond of Armenian poetry.
Saturday, January 27, 2007
An Appreciation of William Saroyan and James H. Tashjian
Saroyan Is Your Voice
An Appreciation of William Saroyan and James H. Tashjian
By Stuart Hyde
The Armenian Weekly
January 27, 2007
Last week, I went to my Washington Mutual Branch in Bon Air to deposit some checks. After waiting in line, my turn came so I approached the available cashier and handed her my checks and deposit slip. I then looked at her face, and then her name plate to verify what my eyes saw.
“You’re Armenian.”
“Yes.”
“Then you know Saroyan.”
“Is he a customer?”
“No, he was a…”
(Cutting me off) “I’m sure I’ve never met this person…”
“No, William Saroyan, the famous writer.”
“Never heard of him.”
“William Saroyan is your voice, but have you heard it? Have you read his words?”
“He’s not my voice! I’m sure of that!”
“But he is, and you must find him. You need to be embraced by his visions of Fresno, of San Francisco, of Armenia. His voice will help you find deeper meaning to your Armenian-ness. Once you find him, you’ll want to share him with everyone! I found him years ago, but only recently did I really discover him.”
She looked at me as though I was crazy, perhaps the way Saroyan was looked at by literal-minded rubes who didn’t know a wild, but gentle genius when they saw one.
I used the back of a deposit slip to write down “William Saroyan.” I told her to check out My Name is Aram, The Human Comedy, and Peace, it’s Wonderful. I added my name and e-mail address because I was sure that when she found her Armenian voice, she’d want to know more.
She never contacted me.
Does a man who has no Armenian blood in him have the right to tell an Armenian woman that she will not become fully human until she learns to see the world through the eyes and heart of a man, now gone, who left us with thousands of words centering around him, his Uncle Aram, his mother Takoohi, his birthplace Fresno, and whose stories live on in those whose sensitivities he nurtured, whose compassion he inspired, and whose love of Armenia, Armenians and the Armenian language lived in him until his last breath?
Yes, I think I have a right to do this. It took an Englishman, Lord Elgin, to see and save the magical Parthenon frieze, neglected by Greeks for 2,000 years; and it was a Frenchman, Jean-François Champollion, who unlocked the mystery of the hieroglyphs to give us the history and wisdom of the ancient Egyptians.
I have no right to advise Armenians on any other subject, but William Saroyan is special case. Earlier I said, “only recently did I really discover him.” Before I get to that, let me explain my connection with Saroyan.
When I was a teenager, I discovered the writings of William Saroyan while a student at Fresno High School. He was 15-years-old when I was born, so when he was 30, I was ready to read his stories. If I’d known at the time that an acquaintance, Cheslie Saroyan, two years ahead of me in school, was related to him, I would have done almost anything to cultivate his friendship. Through Cheslie, I would perhaps even meet the man who gave voice to my warm quiet valley of home—the writer who turned me on to reading, to studying, to writing, and most importantly, to living freely if somewhat wildly.
As an adolescent in Fresno, I was one of many high school kids who became addicted to Saroyan early on. We couldn’t wait for each of his books to be published. We had little money, so we shared his stories (money was very scarce for us in those days), passed them around, and discussed them at great length, dissecting them in meticulous detail. Eventually, we realized that by our analyses we were treating the living Saroyan as a cadaver in a forensics class: we could see all the pieces, but they explained nothing. If we couldn’t “get” Saroyan through our feelings, our emotions, our guts, we would never get inside the magic world of this giant. So, we gave up de-anatomizing Saroyan, and let him enter our hearts.
But, I didn’t seek Cheslie out. So, I missed my first chance to meet Saroyan.
Many years later, after living through the Great Depression, World War II, the disillusionments of the ‘60s—JFK, Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr, Robert Kennedy, Gandhi—and after more years of studying and teaching, marriage, children and their offspring, and much, much more, I came across a dog-eared copy of Peace, It’s Wonderful and decided I’d revisit William Saroyan. I didn’t start with this book, but with a biography, A Daring Young Man.
After finishing this book, I felt the need to see if my teenage addiction to Saroyan would hold up, so I read the two books of short stories I’d saved and carried on my ship throughout the war, and again to college and grad school, treasuring them but never finding time (or perhaps the motivation) to dip into them again until now. In re-reading his stories, I was awakened to the wonder of a Fresno I’d failed to sense or appreciate growing up—a wonderment that did not escape this sensitive artist.
During this time, I was aware that Saroyan was again living in Fresno, just 200 miles south of San Francisco. It would have been easy for me to drive there, contact him, and, I’m sure, spend some time with him.
But, I didn’t. Too busy. Can’t leave right now, maybe next month. I’m needed at work. My family needs me. And so on.
On May 18, 1981, William Saroyan died. So, I missed my last chance to touch him.
I thought that was it. But this man would not let me go. One Sunday, several months ago, I went to Fort Mason, a decommissioned old military base in San Francisco Bay, to visit the Friends of the Library shop of used books, but was diverted when I saw a large sign: TODAY ONLY: BIG USED BOOK SALE, PIER 5.
I browsed through the $1.00 book tables, saw many titles I found appealing, but not enough so to bite on and, when I was just about to leave, Saroyan struck again: I saw a hard cover book I never knew existed: My Name is Saroyan.
I grabbed it, paid my buck, and left.
The book turned out to be a revelation, more than 100 stories, letters, poems and plays that Saroyan sent to the Hairenik papers in Boston over the years, beginning in 1933 and ending in 1954. Of the 97 stories, 68 had never been published aside from their appearance in the Armenian periodicals! My Name is Saroyan was edited and annotated by James H. Tashjian, who was for more than 30 years editor of the Hairenik Weekly (later the Armenian Weekly) and the Armenian Review.
In reading My Name is Saroyan, I was taken back to those Fresno days and to memories of my friends, Bob Kuyumjian (best buddy), Aurora Vartikian (I had a crush on her!), Mike Keshishian and Senor Saghatelian (outstanding football players), Arpie Ohanian, Bobbie Kevorkian (class clown), and so many more! And to the streets where I walked and rode my bike—like Saroyan, the one with no rubber on the peddles. And to the nearby small towns of Clovis, Fowler, Selma, Kingsburg, Kerman, Mendota...
I photographically relived the night Bob Kuyumjian and I snuck into Memorial Auditorium to see the original New York touring cast performance of Saroyan’s play “The Time of Your Life,” which was truly the time of my life, for I never escaped its magic, and knew from that moment on that I had to do something in the theatre. (I wound up teaching drama, and then radio and television.)
This adventure was immediately tarnished by one of my father’s co-workers. My dad came home in a stew, and came right to the point: “Did you sneak into the auditorium last night to see a play?” “Yes, Dad, I did.” I expected him to punish me for this minor crime, but that wasn’t the cause of his anger. “Dan Bradley told me he saw you sneaking into the show with an Armenian kid.” “Yeah, Dad, it was Bob Kuyumjian…” He cut me off, and went into a tirade against his co-worker because, you see, he had immense respect for the Armenians who had come to Fresno after the Turkish holocaust. So I wasn’t the target of his rage. I felt more respect for my Dad at that moment than I ever thought I could or would.
My Name is Saroyan also brought back the day in 1944, that I spent with the Saroyan clan in Long Beach, where the extended family encamped for several weeks to escape the blistering hot summer of Fresno. I was in San Pedro with my ship, getting ready to head out into the Pacific, but when I was invited to the Saroyan get-together by my friend, Dudley St. John, who was stationed at an army base nearby, I received a pass and was on my way. One of the many memorable events that day was shish kebab made in their penthouse apartment in a large galvanized metal tub!
My strongest memories of that day, though, were dozens of short but evocative stories told by the patriarch of the family—I may be wrong, but I’ve always remembered him as Uncle Aram. Most of his tales were fables or parables from the Old Country. But at one point he became very sober as he recounted memories of his family rushing ahead of armed Turkish troops on horseback, who were cutting down thousands of Armenians who only wanted to reach Musa Dagh and safety.
As much as I was enjoying the day, I was keyed up, waiting for William Saroyan’s appearance, but Dudley was wrong: Saroyan didn’t show up…
So, I missed another opportunity to meet him.
The deeper I got into My Name is Saroyan, the more I needed to contact Mr. Tashjian, to tell him how much I appreciated his assembling and annotating a book which—had he not had custody of the Saroyan papers and dedicated himself to bringing them to the public—most likely would have remained in the Armenian Weekly archives, unread, until some compulsive “neat-freak” sent them to the recycling bin to make more storage space.
My Name is Saroyan brings to life an enigmatic genius, a man who revealed himself in every word he wrote, yet one who remained a mystery in many ways when he lived and when he died. In this book, touching indications of his insecurities show up that are never found in his cocky, arrogant public stance. The Saroyan most people thought they knew, but didn’t, is revealed in these pages.
In A Fistfight for Armenia, written in 1933, he gives a furious picture of a child who wants only to live in peace, yet can’t escape the pervasive contempt shown to Armenians by many of “Fresno’s finest.” The story is told by “Caspar,” obviously the alter ego of Saroyan himself.
“One evening he and Reuben Paul sat on the porch of his home talking when a group of six or seven boys came up, running and shouting they had been insulted. Roy Sommers, who had boxed in the ring of the American Legion, had insulted them. ‘He called us dirty Armenians,’ said Ara George, a boy of eight, who began to tremble and burst into tears.”
Later, as Caspar and Sommers fight, a girl in the small crowd yells, “We’ll massacre you like the Turks,” she said. “You just watch. We’ll cut you to pieces the way the Turks did.”
As far as I know, Saroyan never in his stories revealed the ache that must have lived in him every day, growing up in Fresno. The public knows only of his deep love for his home town: “We drank the beer and my cousin cranked the car and we got in and drove out of the hills into the warm, quiet, valley that was our home in the world, in time, in the time of living.”
The world knows William Saroyan as the brilliant writer who became suddenly famous with the publication of The Daring Young Man on the Flying Trapeze. After that, people think, everything was roses. But, in My Name is Saroyan, we learn about his subsequent struggles. Perhaps his story most revered by the multitudes is The Human Comedy. Here is what he wrote to the editor of the Hairenik Weekly in Jan. 1942:
“I took the manuscript to Metro and they read it without talking about money. A couple of days later one of Hollywood’s greatest authorities called me in and said, ‘Saroyan, we’ll give you $25,000 for that ream of junk, even though we don’t know what we’ll do with it; we’re doing you this favor since we called you, you didn’t call us.’ I was not at all impressed at his generosity. I asked ‘what’s your next best offer?’ ‘Not a sou more’ he said (educated Hollywood people always use ‘sou’ for ‘cent.’”
Were it not for editor James Tashjian, the world would never have been told about his constant struggle to preserve his income and his integrity.
These are but two examples of the many revelations in My Name is Saroyan. The millions of readers whose lives were enriched by his words and his wisdom will never see Saroyan in all his dimensions without reading this gift from James Tashjian.
On Nov. 21, 2006, I sent this e-mail to the Armenian Weekly:
Hello. I am writing to learn more about Mr. Tashjian. I recently came across “My Name is Saroyan,” and am incredibly grateful for this book and for the vision of Mr. Tashjian who made it possible.
I grew up in Fresno, and was one of many high school kids who discovered Saroyan early on. We couldn’t wait for each of his books to be published; we read them, shared them, and discussed them at great length and dissected them in amazing detail.
Anyway, I hope Mr. Tashjian is alive and well, and if so I’d like to hear from him.
Sincerely,
Stuart Hyde
Emeritus Professor,
San Francisco State University
On Nov. 30, I received this response:
Dear Professor Stuart Hyde,
I am sorry to inform you that James Tashjian has just passed away. I wanted to visit him as well to wish him well and also printed your email so that he got a chance to read it, but he passed away before we had a chance to visit him. I do not know Mr. Tashjian in person—I moved to the U.S. a few months ago—but all those who knew James Tashjian and worked with him only have good words about the man.
Regards,
Khatchig Mouradian
Editor, The Armenian Weekly
So, once again, I missed an opportunity—not to touch William Saroyan, because I’d already lost that chance—but to at least get nearer to him through the man who expanded and deepened my knowledge and understanding of this great author, the editor who made William Saroyan a more complete figure in the Pantheon of great storytellers.
I end by paraphrasing what I said to that teller at the Washington Mutual Branch, but what I say now to readers of the Armenian Weekly:
William Saroyan is your voice, but have you heard it? Have you read his words? You may need to be embraced by his visions of Fresno, of San Francisco, of Armenia. His voice may even help you find deeper meaning to your Armenian-ness. Once you find him, you’ll want to share him with everyone! I found him years ago, but only recently did I really discover him.”
Thank you, James H. Tashjian.
An Appreciation of William Saroyan and James H. Tashjian
By Stuart Hyde
The Armenian Weekly
January 27, 2007
Last week, I went to my Washington Mutual Branch in Bon Air to deposit some checks. After waiting in line, my turn came so I approached the available cashier and handed her my checks and deposit slip. I then looked at her face, and then her name plate to verify what my eyes saw.
“You’re Armenian.”
“Yes.”
“Then you know Saroyan.”
“Is he a customer?”
“No, he was a…”
(Cutting me off) “I’m sure I’ve never met this person…”
“No, William Saroyan, the famous writer.”
“Never heard of him.”
“William Saroyan is your voice, but have you heard it? Have you read his words?”
“He’s not my voice! I’m sure of that!”
“But he is, and you must find him. You need to be embraced by his visions of Fresno, of San Francisco, of Armenia. His voice will help you find deeper meaning to your Armenian-ness. Once you find him, you’ll want to share him with everyone! I found him years ago, but only recently did I really discover him.”
She looked at me as though I was crazy, perhaps the way Saroyan was looked at by literal-minded rubes who didn’t know a wild, but gentle genius when they saw one.
I used the back of a deposit slip to write down “William Saroyan.” I told her to check out My Name is Aram, The Human Comedy, and Peace, it’s Wonderful. I added my name and e-mail address because I was sure that when she found her Armenian voice, she’d want to know more.
She never contacted me.
Does a man who has no Armenian blood in him have the right to tell an Armenian woman that she will not become fully human until she learns to see the world through the eyes and heart of a man, now gone, who left us with thousands of words centering around him, his Uncle Aram, his mother Takoohi, his birthplace Fresno, and whose stories live on in those whose sensitivities he nurtured, whose compassion he inspired, and whose love of Armenia, Armenians and the Armenian language lived in him until his last breath?
Yes, I think I have a right to do this. It took an Englishman, Lord Elgin, to see and save the magical Parthenon frieze, neglected by Greeks for 2,000 years; and it was a Frenchman, Jean-François Champollion, who unlocked the mystery of the hieroglyphs to give us the history and wisdom of the ancient Egyptians.
I have no right to advise Armenians on any other subject, but William Saroyan is special case. Earlier I said, “only recently did I really discover him.” Before I get to that, let me explain my connection with Saroyan.
When I was a teenager, I discovered the writings of William Saroyan while a student at Fresno High School. He was 15-years-old when I was born, so when he was 30, I was ready to read his stories. If I’d known at the time that an acquaintance, Cheslie Saroyan, two years ahead of me in school, was related to him, I would have done almost anything to cultivate his friendship. Through Cheslie, I would perhaps even meet the man who gave voice to my warm quiet valley of home—the writer who turned me on to reading, to studying, to writing, and most importantly, to living freely if somewhat wildly.
As an adolescent in Fresno, I was one of many high school kids who became addicted to Saroyan early on. We couldn’t wait for each of his books to be published. We had little money, so we shared his stories (money was very scarce for us in those days), passed them around, and discussed them at great length, dissecting them in meticulous detail. Eventually, we realized that by our analyses we were treating the living Saroyan as a cadaver in a forensics class: we could see all the pieces, but they explained nothing. If we couldn’t “get” Saroyan through our feelings, our emotions, our guts, we would never get inside the magic world of this giant. So, we gave up de-anatomizing Saroyan, and let him enter our hearts.
But, I didn’t seek Cheslie out. So, I missed my first chance to meet Saroyan.
Many years later, after living through the Great Depression, World War II, the disillusionments of the ‘60s—JFK, Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr, Robert Kennedy, Gandhi—and after more years of studying and teaching, marriage, children and their offspring, and much, much more, I came across a dog-eared copy of Peace, It’s Wonderful and decided I’d revisit William Saroyan. I didn’t start with this book, but with a biography, A Daring Young Man.
After finishing this book, I felt the need to see if my teenage addiction to Saroyan would hold up, so I read the two books of short stories I’d saved and carried on my ship throughout the war, and again to college and grad school, treasuring them but never finding time (or perhaps the motivation) to dip into them again until now. In re-reading his stories, I was awakened to the wonder of a Fresno I’d failed to sense or appreciate growing up—a wonderment that did not escape this sensitive artist.
During this time, I was aware that Saroyan was again living in Fresno, just 200 miles south of San Francisco. It would have been easy for me to drive there, contact him, and, I’m sure, spend some time with him.
But, I didn’t. Too busy. Can’t leave right now, maybe next month. I’m needed at work. My family needs me. And so on.
On May 18, 1981, William Saroyan died. So, I missed my last chance to touch him.
I thought that was it. But this man would not let me go. One Sunday, several months ago, I went to Fort Mason, a decommissioned old military base in San Francisco Bay, to visit the Friends of the Library shop of used books, but was diverted when I saw a large sign: TODAY ONLY: BIG USED BOOK SALE, PIER 5.
I browsed through the $1.00 book tables, saw many titles I found appealing, but not enough so to bite on and, when I was just about to leave, Saroyan struck again: I saw a hard cover book I never knew existed: My Name is Saroyan.
I grabbed it, paid my buck, and left.
The book turned out to be a revelation, more than 100 stories, letters, poems and plays that Saroyan sent to the Hairenik papers in Boston over the years, beginning in 1933 and ending in 1954. Of the 97 stories, 68 had never been published aside from their appearance in the Armenian periodicals! My Name is Saroyan was edited and annotated by James H. Tashjian, who was for more than 30 years editor of the Hairenik Weekly (later the Armenian Weekly) and the Armenian Review.
In reading My Name is Saroyan, I was taken back to those Fresno days and to memories of my friends, Bob Kuyumjian (best buddy), Aurora Vartikian (I had a crush on her!), Mike Keshishian and Senor Saghatelian (outstanding football players), Arpie Ohanian, Bobbie Kevorkian (class clown), and so many more! And to the streets where I walked and rode my bike—like Saroyan, the one with no rubber on the peddles. And to the nearby small towns of Clovis, Fowler, Selma, Kingsburg, Kerman, Mendota...
I photographically relived the night Bob Kuyumjian and I snuck into Memorial Auditorium to see the original New York touring cast performance of Saroyan’s play “The Time of Your Life,” which was truly the time of my life, for I never escaped its magic, and knew from that moment on that I had to do something in the theatre. (I wound up teaching drama, and then radio and television.)
This adventure was immediately tarnished by one of my father’s co-workers. My dad came home in a stew, and came right to the point: “Did you sneak into the auditorium last night to see a play?” “Yes, Dad, I did.” I expected him to punish me for this minor crime, but that wasn’t the cause of his anger. “Dan Bradley told me he saw you sneaking into the show with an Armenian kid.” “Yeah, Dad, it was Bob Kuyumjian…” He cut me off, and went into a tirade against his co-worker because, you see, he had immense respect for the Armenians who had come to Fresno after the Turkish holocaust. So I wasn’t the target of his rage. I felt more respect for my Dad at that moment than I ever thought I could or would.
My Name is Saroyan also brought back the day in 1944, that I spent with the Saroyan clan in Long Beach, where the extended family encamped for several weeks to escape the blistering hot summer of Fresno. I was in San Pedro with my ship, getting ready to head out into the Pacific, but when I was invited to the Saroyan get-together by my friend, Dudley St. John, who was stationed at an army base nearby, I received a pass and was on my way. One of the many memorable events that day was shish kebab made in their penthouse apartment in a large galvanized metal tub!
My strongest memories of that day, though, were dozens of short but evocative stories told by the patriarch of the family—I may be wrong, but I’ve always remembered him as Uncle Aram. Most of his tales were fables or parables from the Old Country. But at one point he became very sober as he recounted memories of his family rushing ahead of armed Turkish troops on horseback, who were cutting down thousands of Armenians who only wanted to reach Musa Dagh and safety.
As much as I was enjoying the day, I was keyed up, waiting for William Saroyan’s appearance, but Dudley was wrong: Saroyan didn’t show up…
So, I missed another opportunity to meet him.
The deeper I got into My Name is Saroyan, the more I needed to contact Mr. Tashjian, to tell him how much I appreciated his assembling and annotating a book which—had he not had custody of the Saroyan papers and dedicated himself to bringing them to the public—most likely would have remained in the Armenian Weekly archives, unread, until some compulsive “neat-freak” sent them to the recycling bin to make more storage space.
My Name is Saroyan brings to life an enigmatic genius, a man who revealed himself in every word he wrote, yet one who remained a mystery in many ways when he lived and when he died. In this book, touching indications of his insecurities show up that are never found in his cocky, arrogant public stance. The Saroyan most people thought they knew, but didn’t, is revealed in these pages.
In A Fistfight for Armenia, written in 1933, he gives a furious picture of a child who wants only to live in peace, yet can’t escape the pervasive contempt shown to Armenians by many of “Fresno’s finest.” The story is told by “Caspar,” obviously the alter ego of Saroyan himself.
“One evening he and Reuben Paul sat on the porch of his home talking when a group of six or seven boys came up, running and shouting they had been insulted. Roy Sommers, who had boxed in the ring of the American Legion, had insulted them. ‘He called us dirty Armenians,’ said Ara George, a boy of eight, who began to tremble and burst into tears.”
Later, as Caspar and Sommers fight, a girl in the small crowd yells, “We’ll massacre you like the Turks,” she said. “You just watch. We’ll cut you to pieces the way the Turks did.”
As far as I know, Saroyan never in his stories revealed the ache that must have lived in him every day, growing up in Fresno. The public knows only of his deep love for his home town: “We drank the beer and my cousin cranked the car and we got in and drove out of the hills into the warm, quiet, valley that was our home in the world, in time, in the time of living.”
The world knows William Saroyan as the brilliant writer who became suddenly famous with the publication of The Daring Young Man on the Flying Trapeze. After that, people think, everything was roses. But, in My Name is Saroyan, we learn about his subsequent struggles. Perhaps his story most revered by the multitudes is The Human Comedy. Here is what he wrote to the editor of the Hairenik Weekly in Jan. 1942:
“I took the manuscript to Metro and they read it without talking about money. A couple of days later one of Hollywood’s greatest authorities called me in and said, ‘Saroyan, we’ll give you $25,000 for that ream of junk, even though we don’t know what we’ll do with it; we’re doing you this favor since we called you, you didn’t call us.’ I was not at all impressed at his generosity. I asked ‘what’s your next best offer?’ ‘Not a sou more’ he said (educated Hollywood people always use ‘sou’ for ‘cent.’”
Were it not for editor James Tashjian, the world would never have been told about his constant struggle to preserve his income and his integrity.
These are but two examples of the many revelations in My Name is Saroyan. The millions of readers whose lives were enriched by his words and his wisdom will never see Saroyan in all his dimensions without reading this gift from James Tashjian.
On Nov. 21, 2006, I sent this e-mail to the Armenian Weekly:
Hello. I am writing to learn more about Mr. Tashjian. I recently came across “My Name is Saroyan,” and am incredibly grateful for this book and for the vision of Mr. Tashjian who made it possible.
I grew up in Fresno, and was one of many high school kids who discovered Saroyan early on. We couldn’t wait for each of his books to be published; we read them, shared them, and discussed them at great length and dissected them in amazing detail.
Anyway, I hope Mr. Tashjian is alive and well, and if so I’d like to hear from him.
Sincerely,
Stuart Hyde
Emeritus Professor,
San Francisco State University
On Nov. 30, I received this response:
Dear Professor Stuart Hyde,
I am sorry to inform you that James Tashjian has just passed away. I wanted to visit him as well to wish him well and also printed your email so that he got a chance to read it, but he passed away before we had a chance to visit him. I do not know Mr. Tashjian in person—I moved to the U.S. a few months ago—but all those who knew James Tashjian and worked with him only have good words about the man.
Regards,
Khatchig Mouradian
Editor, The Armenian Weekly
So, once again, I missed an opportunity—not to touch William Saroyan, because I’d already lost that chance—but to at least get nearer to him through the man who expanded and deepened my knowledge and understanding of this great author, the editor who made William Saroyan a more complete figure in the Pantheon of great storytellers.
I end by paraphrasing what I said to that teller at the Washington Mutual Branch, but what I say now to readers of the Armenian Weekly:
William Saroyan is your voice, but have you heard it? Have you read his words? You may need to be embraced by his visions of Fresno, of San Francisco, of Armenia. His voice may even help you find deeper meaning to your Armenian-ness. Once you find him, you’ll want to share him with everyone! I found him years ago, but only recently did I really discover him.”
Thank you, James H. Tashjian.
Saturday, December 23, 2006
Three Poems
Three Poems by By Khatchig Mouradian
Translated by Tatul Sonentz
The Armenian Weekly
December 23-30, 2006
PITY
Already the newspeak Pegasus
Pines wasted in the stable
It never ventured a visit
To its native clouds.
Tomorrow when its body
Is committed to the soil
And its soul to radiance,
We shall long lament the fact
That it was fed hay instead of words.
(1999)
TOAST
Tonight as I dock
The boat of silence
Endless words old and new
Thrash restless in my net.
Tomorrow morning
Dear reader
I shall bring to your table
The flaming loot of treasured momentos
Ablaze with longings.
(Oct. 15, 2000)
ETERNAL LOVE
Love was eternal—
An Eternity of mere months…
And now, memories frolicking
A few fortnights in the backyard of dreams,
Dreams limping along behind the pause,
Come ever closer in single file
To sprinkle a fistful of soil…
They approach one by one
To sprinkle a handful of dust…
As you slip into the new infinity
Patched up by your fancy
Your love still prompts my thoughts
From the great beyond…
(June 13, 2000)
Translated by Tatul Sonentz
The Armenian Weekly
December 23-30, 2006
PITY
Already the newspeak Pegasus
Pines wasted in the stable
It never ventured a visit
To its native clouds.
Tomorrow when its body
Is committed to the soil
And its soul to radiance,
We shall long lament the fact
That it was fed hay instead of words.
(1999)
TOAST
Tonight as I dock
The boat of silence
Endless words old and new
Thrash restless in my net.
Tomorrow morning
Dear reader
I shall bring to your table
The flaming loot of treasured momentos
Ablaze with longings.
(Oct. 15, 2000)
ETERNAL LOVE
Love was eternal—
An Eternity of mere months…
And now, memories frolicking
A few fortnights in the backyard of dreams,
Dreams limping along behind the pause,
Come ever closer in single file
To sprinkle a fistful of soil…
They approach one by one
To sprinkle a handful of dust…
As you slip into the new infinity
Patched up by your fancy
Your love still prompts my thoughts
From the great beyond…
(June 13, 2000)
Saturday, October 28, 2006
Paulo Coelho’s Journey Among the Armenians
An Alchemist’s Pilgrimage
Best-Selling Author Paulo Coelho’s Journey Among the Armenians
By Khatchig Mouradian
The Armenian Weekly
October 28, 2006
“This book, telling the story of a shepherd boy named Santiago, is about following your dreams,” said my Chinese friend.
“Its message is powerful and simple: If you really believe in something, the whole universe conspires with you to achieve it. Take it to Beirut with you and read it,” she continued.
Thousands of miles away from home, I was being offered a book I had on my own bookshelf, but had never read. Thus, on September 10, 2000, in Shenyang, China, my story with The Alchemist had begun.
As I was reading the book on the plane on my way back, I felt I could easily relate to the message of the novel: We had to go to far away lands, sometimes, to find treasures hidden in our backyard.
“I will translate this book to Armenian one day,” I thought, as the captain was announcing our arrival at the Beirut International Airport.
In October 2003, I started interviewing writers, artists and academics from around the world for the Lebanese-Armenian daily newspaper Aztag. “My first interviewee ought to be the author of The Alchemist,” I thought.
I emailed the author’s literary agency requesting an interview and, much to my surprise, I received a positive response. One of the top best-selling authors of the world had agreed to share his thoughts with a small community newspaper in Beirut.
The last question I asked Paulo Coelho was whether there were plans to translate his book, The Alchemist, to Armenian. Already translated into 54 languages, I felt it was time Armenians read the book in their mother tongue. He expressed hope that a publishing house would be interested in such an endeavor.
On October 30, the interview appeared in Aztag. A few days later, I received a phone call from the Hamazkayin publishing house in Beirut. “We would love to have The Alchemist translated to Armenian. Would you be interested in translating it?” asked the voice on the other side.
I remembered my Chinese friend, Paulo Coelho’s quote about wanting something, and the wish I had expressed on my flight to Beirut. When we obtained the rights from Coelho’s literary agency, the shepherd boy Santiago in me was thrilled.
A year later, I was holding the first copy of my translation of The Alchemist. I flipped to page 5 where the Translator’s Foreword appeared, titled “the 55th [translation].” There, I had told my story with the book, without knowing it was not yet over. In a few hours, I had a plane to catch to Yerevan, where I would be joined by Paulo Coelho himself for a series of book events.
The Pilgrimage
A large crowd of journalist, photographers and cameramen had gathered right outside the VIP Lounge at the Zvartnots Airport in Yerevan. “Where is Khatchig?” asked the man in dark clothes coming out of the VIP room. As I approached and we embraced, he made his first statement to the media: “He is too young to be a translator.”
“And too old to be Santiago,” I thought.
“The Pilgrim has arrived to the land of Pilgrimages: to yerkir Hayastan,” wrote the daily Hayastani Hanrapetudyun a few days later.
As Armenia was bracing for the greatest literary events in its history, Coelho had other things in mind. He had an Armenian driver, he went to Armenian restaurants in Paris, he had met many Armenians in the Diaspora and heard so much about their heritage and their country, and now, he was on a pilgrimage to discover both, first-hand.
We strolled in the streets of Yerevan that night. The following day, when he was asked about his impressions of the city, he said that the buildings and streets are almost the same everywhere around the world. “It is the people that make the difference, and my best impression was the people,” he added.
Weeks before his arrival, as we were preparing the program of his week-long visit, Coelho’s literary agency stressed that the author wanted to spend time with the people, with his readers, and that official meetings had to be minimal. We ended up including lunch with the president of Armenia Robert Kocharian at the Parajanov Museum, a visit to the Catholicos of All Armenians Karekin II at Etchmiadzin, and a meeting with the Minister of Culture Hovig Hoveyan in the program.
On October 6, 2004, the book-launching event dedicated to the translation into Armenian of The Alchemist took place at the Writers’ Union Great Hall. Organized by Hamazkayin and the Writers’ Union of Armenia, the event was a huge success. The hall was packed with people hours before the event, and hundreds of latecomers waited outside, pushing at the gates that were closed because the hall couldn’t handle any more people.
In my introductory speech, I told my story with The Alchemist, beginning, as always, in China. I said, “Just like Paulo, I, too, believe we have to go to far away lands, sometimes, to find treasures hidden in our backyard. And for us, Diaspora Armenians, whose grandparents had to walk through deserts in much harsher conditions than Santiago did in his quest, the real treasures are hidden here, in Armenia, whether we realize it or not.”
In his speech, Coelho, who Publishing Trends had declared the number one best-selling author a year before, also alluded to the Armenian Diaspora saying he believed that one day, Diaspora Armenians would return, like rain, to the land of their ancestors, bringing with them all that they have learned and accomplished.
“At the Writers’ Union Hall there was no room to cast a needle,” wrote the weekly Yerkir in its coverage of the event. “We cannot recall any other time when that hall was packed like that.” In its history, the Writers’ Union had witnessed such an event only once, and that was during the visit of William Saroyan to Yerevan, wrote Grakan Tert.
Coelho’s second meeting with Armenian readers came two days later in the Tcharents Hall at Yerevan State University. Some 900 people packed the hall, with many sitting on the floor or leaning against the walls. Coelho said he did not want to give a speech and, instead, invited 10 students to the podium and gave them each a chance to ask a question.
I was translating Paulo’s answers to Armenian. At one point, replying to a question on his most recent novel Eleven Minutes, Paulo started talking about sex. While I was having difficulty translating words like “masturbation,” “orgasm”, “penis” and “vagina,” and blushing every now and then, the audience was having a blast. Rarely, if ever, had a speaker talked so openly about sex on that podium.
Asked whether at some point he would write a novel on Armenia, Coelho said he never plans in advance what to write about. He compared himself to a sailor who sets out without having a specific destination. “I do not know if I will write a novel about Armenia,” he said. “But Armenia wrote a novel in my heart.”
A day later, the daily Azg wrote: “From the meetings of Paulo Coelho with the public in Yerevan, it became clear that it is not true to say the Armenian reader has became indifferent towards literature.”
In the following days, Coelho lay wreaths at the Armenian Genocide memorial, visited the Genocide Museum, and planted a tree at the memorial garden in Dzidzernagapert. He also went to Oshagan on Holy Translators’ Day, and lay a flower on the tomb of Mesrob Mashdots, the creator of the Armenian alphabet.
He was particularly impressed by the fact that the Armenians sanctified their translators, who enlightened their people after the alphabet was discovered. He said he had toured the world and had never encountered such a practice. Coelho later wrote an article, syndicated in newspapers around the world, on his visit to Armenia and specifically his impressions from the Holy Translators’ Day.
It was impossible to walk even a few steps on the streets in Yerevan without encountering an admirer of Coelho’s work asking for an autograph. He patiently autographed books for everyone. The utmost respect and love he showed to each and every reader was heartwarming indeed.
Once, when we were visiting the vernissage, the open-air art market in Yerevan, a painter in his 70s approached and hugged the author, giving him a painting as a gift. “Tell the world we love life, and we will prevail in the face of economic and political difficulties,” said the painter. His words, full of determination, reminded me of Paulo’s literary style: simple, but powerful, inspiring and heartwarming.
Before we knew it, we were at the Zvartnots Airport again. “Partir, c’est mourir un peu” (Leaving is a bit like dying), say the French. “Heratsman mech el ga mi veratarts” (There is a return in every departure), says an Armenian song. I believe in the latter.
***
Recently, I asked Paulo to send an email and wish a happy birthday to a female friend of mine, who is a great fan of his.
“A man in love asks, and a man who respects love obeys,” he wrote her a day later. “Happy Birthday!” As always, Paulo had found the best way to reach the heart of his readers.
Best-Selling Author Paulo Coelho’s Journey Among the Armenians
By Khatchig Mouradian
The Armenian Weekly
October 28, 2006
“This book, telling the story of a shepherd boy named Santiago, is about following your dreams,” said my Chinese friend.
“Its message is powerful and simple: If you really believe in something, the whole universe conspires with you to achieve it. Take it to Beirut with you and read it,” she continued.
Thousands of miles away from home, I was being offered a book I had on my own bookshelf, but had never read. Thus, on September 10, 2000, in Shenyang, China, my story with The Alchemist had begun.
As I was reading the book on the plane on my way back, I felt I could easily relate to the message of the novel: We had to go to far away lands, sometimes, to find treasures hidden in our backyard.
“I will translate this book to Armenian one day,” I thought, as the captain was announcing our arrival at the Beirut International Airport.
In October 2003, I started interviewing writers, artists and academics from around the world for the Lebanese-Armenian daily newspaper Aztag. “My first interviewee ought to be the author of The Alchemist,” I thought.
I emailed the author’s literary agency requesting an interview and, much to my surprise, I received a positive response. One of the top best-selling authors of the world had agreed to share his thoughts with a small community newspaper in Beirut.
The last question I asked Paulo Coelho was whether there were plans to translate his book, The Alchemist, to Armenian. Already translated into 54 languages, I felt it was time Armenians read the book in their mother tongue. He expressed hope that a publishing house would be interested in such an endeavor.
On October 30, the interview appeared in Aztag. A few days later, I received a phone call from the Hamazkayin publishing house in Beirut. “We would love to have The Alchemist translated to Armenian. Would you be interested in translating it?” asked the voice on the other side.
I remembered my Chinese friend, Paulo Coelho’s quote about wanting something, and the wish I had expressed on my flight to Beirut. When we obtained the rights from Coelho’s literary agency, the shepherd boy Santiago in me was thrilled.
A year later, I was holding the first copy of my translation of The Alchemist. I flipped to page 5 where the Translator’s Foreword appeared, titled “the 55th [translation].” There, I had told my story with the book, without knowing it was not yet over. In a few hours, I had a plane to catch to Yerevan, where I would be joined by Paulo Coelho himself for a series of book events.
The Pilgrimage
A large crowd of journalist, photographers and cameramen had gathered right outside the VIP Lounge at the Zvartnots Airport in Yerevan. “Where is Khatchig?” asked the man in dark clothes coming out of the VIP room. As I approached and we embraced, he made his first statement to the media: “He is too young to be a translator.”
“And too old to be Santiago,” I thought.
“The Pilgrim has arrived to the land of Pilgrimages: to yerkir Hayastan,” wrote the daily Hayastani Hanrapetudyun a few days later.
As Armenia was bracing for the greatest literary events in its history, Coelho had other things in mind. He had an Armenian driver, he went to Armenian restaurants in Paris, he had met many Armenians in the Diaspora and heard so much about their heritage and their country, and now, he was on a pilgrimage to discover both, first-hand.
We strolled in the streets of Yerevan that night. The following day, when he was asked about his impressions of the city, he said that the buildings and streets are almost the same everywhere around the world. “It is the people that make the difference, and my best impression was the people,” he added.
Weeks before his arrival, as we were preparing the program of his week-long visit, Coelho’s literary agency stressed that the author wanted to spend time with the people, with his readers, and that official meetings had to be minimal. We ended up including lunch with the president of Armenia Robert Kocharian at the Parajanov Museum, a visit to the Catholicos of All Armenians Karekin II at Etchmiadzin, and a meeting with the Minister of Culture Hovig Hoveyan in the program.
On October 6, 2004, the book-launching event dedicated to the translation into Armenian of The Alchemist took place at the Writers’ Union Great Hall. Organized by Hamazkayin and the Writers’ Union of Armenia, the event was a huge success. The hall was packed with people hours before the event, and hundreds of latecomers waited outside, pushing at the gates that were closed because the hall couldn’t handle any more people.
In my introductory speech, I told my story with The Alchemist, beginning, as always, in China. I said, “Just like Paulo, I, too, believe we have to go to far away lands, sometimes, to find treasures hidden in our backyard. And for us, Diaspora Armenians, whose grandparents had to walk through deserts in much harsher conditions than Santiago did in his quest, the real treasures are hidden here, in Armenia, whether we realize it or not.”
In his speech, Coelho, who Publishing Trends had declared the number one best-selling author a year before, also alluded to the Armenian Diaspora saying he believed that one day, Diaspora Armenians would return, like rain, to the land of their ancestors, bringing with them all that they have learned and accomplished.
“At the Writers’ Union Hall there was no room to cast a needle,” wrote the weekly Yerkir in its coverage of the event. “We cannot recall any other time when that hall was packed like that.” In its history, the Writers’ Union had witnessed such an event only once, and that was during the visit of William Saroyan to Yerevan, wrote Grakan Tert.
Coelho’s second meeting with Armenian readers came two days later in the Tcharents Hall at Yerevan State University. Some 900 people packed the hall, with many sitting on the floor or leaning against the walls. Coelho said he did not want to give a speech and, instead, invited 10 students to the podium and gave them each a chance to ask a question.
I was translating Paulo’s answers to Armenian. At one point, replying to a question on his most recent novel Eleven Minutes, Paulo started talking about sex. While I was having difficulty translating words like “masturbation,” “orgasm”, “penis” and “vagina,” and blushing every now and then, the audience was having a blast. Rarely, if ever, had a speaker talked so openly about sex on that podium.
Asked whether at some point he would write a novel on Armenia, Coelho said he never plans in advance what to write about. He compared himself to a sailor who sets out without having a specific destination. “I do not know if I will write a novel about Armenia,” he said. “But Armenia wrote a novel in my heart.”
A day later, the daily Azg wrote: “From the meetings of Paulo Coelho with the public in Yerevan, it became clear that it is not true to say the Armenian reader has became indifferent towards literature.”
In the following days, Coelho lay wreaths at the Armenian Genocide memorial, visited the Genocide Museum, and planted a tree at the memorial garden in Dzidzernagapert. He also went to Oshagan on Holy Translators’ Day, and lay a flower on the tomb of Mesrob Mashdots, the creator of the Armenian alphabet.
He was particularly impressed by the fact that the Armenians sanctified their translators, who enlightened their people after the alphabet was discovered. He said he had toured the world and had never encountered such a practice. Coelho later wrote an article, syndicated in newspapers around the world, on his visit to Armenia and specifically his impressions from the Holy Translators’ Day.
It was impossible to walk even a few steps on the streets in Yerevan without encountering an admirer of Coelho’s work asking for an autograph. He patiently autographed books for everyone. The utmost respect and love he showed to each and every reader was heartwarming indeed.
Once, when we were visiting the vernissage, the open-air art market in Yerevan, a painter in his 70s approached and hugged the author, giving him a painting as a gift. “Tell the world we love life, and we will prevail in the face of economic and political difficulties,” said the painter. His words, full of determination, reminded me of Paulo’s literary style: simple, but powerful, inspiring and heartwarming.
Before we knew it, we were at the Zvartnots Airport again. “Partir, c’est mourir un peu” (Leaving is a bit like dying), say the French. “Heratsman mech el ga mi veratarts” (There is a return in every departure), says an Armenian song. I believe in the latter.
***
Recently, I asked Paulo to send an email and wish a happy birthday to a female friend of mine, who is a great fan of his.
“A man in love asks, and a man who respects love obeys,” he wrote her a day later. “Happy Birthday!” As always, Paulo had found the best way to reach the heart of his readers.
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