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PALGRAVE STUDIES
IN URBAN ANTHROPOLOGY

Syrian Armenians and


the Turkish Factor
Kessab, Aleppo and Deir ez-Zor in the Syrian War

Marcello Mollica · Arsen Hakobyan


Palgrave Studies in Urban Anthropology

Series Editors
Italo Pardo, School of Anthropology and Conservation, University of
Kent, Canterbury, Kent, UK
Giuliana B. Prato, School of Anthropology and Conservation, University
of Kent, Canterbury, Kent, UK
Half of humanity lives in towns and cities and that proportion is expected
to increase in the coming decades. Society, both Western and non-
Western, is fast becoming urban and mega-urban as existing cities and
a growing number of smaller towns are set on a path of demographic and
spatial expansion. Given the disciplinary commitment to an empirically-
based analysis, anthropology has a unique contribution to make to our
understanding of our evolving urban world. It is in such a belief that we
have established the Palgrave Studies in Urban Anthropology series. In
the awareness of the unique contribution that ethnography offers for a
better theoretical and practical grasp of our rapidly changing and increas-
ingly complex cities, the series will seek high-quality contributions from
anthropologists and other social scientists, such as geographers, political
scientists, sociologists and others, engaged in empirical research in diverse
ethnographic settings. Proposed topics should set the agenda concerning
new debates and chart new theoretical directions, encouraging reflection
on the significance of the anthropological paradigm in urban research
and its centrality to mainstream academic debates and to society more
broadly. The series aims to promote critical scholarship in international
anthropology. Volumes published in the series should address theoret-
ical and methodological issues, showing the relevance of ethnographic
research in understanding the socio-cultural, demographic, economic and
geo-political changes of contemporary society.

More information about this series at


http://www.palgrave.com/gp/series/14573
Marcello Mollica · Arsen Hakobyan

Syrian Armenians
and the Turkish Factor
Kessab, Aleppo and Deir ez-Zor in the Syrian War
Marcello Mollica Arsen Hakobyan
Ancient & Modern Civilizations National Academy of Sciences of
Department Armenia
University of Messina Yereven, Armenia
Messina, Italy

Palgrave Studies in Urban Anthropology


ISBN 978-3-030-72318-7 ISBN 978-3-030-72319-4 (eBook)
https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-030-72319-4

© The Editor(s) (if applicable) and The Author(s), under exclusive license to Springer
Nature Switzerland AG 2021
This work is subject to copyright. All rights are solely and exclusively licensed by the
Publisher, whether the whole or part of the material is concerned, specifically the rights
of translation, reprinting, reuse of illustrations, recitation, broadcasting, reproduction on
microfilms or in any other physical way, and transmission or information storage and
retrieval, electronic adaptation, computer software, or by similar or dissimilar methodology
now known or hereafter developed.
The use of general descriptive names, registered names, trademarks, service marks, etc.
in this publication does not imply, even in the absence of a specific statement, that such
names are exempt from the relevant protective laws and regulations and therefore free for
general use.
The publisher, the authors and the editors are safe to assume that the advice and informa-
tion in this book are believed to be true and accurate at the date of publication. Neither
the publisher nor the authors or the editors give a warranty, expressed or implied, with
respect to the material contained herein or for any errors or omissions that may have been
made. The publisher remains neutral with regard to jurisdictional claims in published maps
and institutional affiliations.

This Palgrave Macmillan imprint is published by the registered company Springer Nature
Switzerland AG
The registered company address is: Gewerbestrasse 11, 6330 Cham, Switzerland
Contents

1 Introduction 1
2 Armenians in the Ottoman Empire: From Violence
to Genocide 31
3 Religious Affiliation and the Armenian Diaspora
in the Middle East 71
4 Armenian Communities in the Syrian War 101
5 Deir ez-Zor and Its Lieux De Mémoire 135
6 Aleppo Armenians at War 165
7 Kessab in the Syrian War 209
8 The Occupation of Northern Syria 243
9 Conclusions 287

Index 295

v
CHAPTER 1

Introduction
The Syrian Armenians and the Turkish Factor:
Kessab, Aleppo and Deir Ez-Zor in the Syrian War

The Interference
The ongoing Syrian War is one of the most important challenges the
world has faced in the last ten years. Its impact goes well beyond the
Middle East for the trajectories of its various spill-overs, and migra-
tion waves have destabilized not just neighbouring countries but also
political relations between Middle Eastern and European countries and
World Powers. This book aims to provide a different understanding and
reading of contemporary events, and their roots, in the Arab Republic
of Syria. It does so by reading them through the eyes of a Syrian ethno-
religious minority, the Syrian Armenian community, which is a recognized
ethno-religious group with religious, confessional (there are three denom-
inations: Apostolic, Catholic and Protestant), cultural and educational
rights. Although the Armenians have inhabited Syria since ancient times,
the present community was formed in 1915, after the [Mets
Yeghern, Great (Evil) Crime], a term used by Armenians to refer to the
Armenian Genocide.1

1 The 1948 UN Convention described genocide as an “act committed with the intent to
destroy in whole or in part a national, ethnical, racial or religious group”. The definition
applies to the atrocities committed in 1915–1922 against the Armenians as a distinct
national and religious group in the Ottoman Empire (De Zayas 2010; Rogan 2015: 167),
which is considered to be the first modern genocide (Ferguson 2006: 176–177). However,
the Turkish government and the Turkish official historical establishment, the Türk Tarih

© The Author(s), under exclusive license to Springer Nature 1


Switzerland AG 2021
M. Mollica and A. Hakobyan, Syrian Armenians and the Turkish Factor,
Palgrave Studies in Urban Anthropology,
https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-030-72319-4_1
2 M. MOLLICA AND A. HAKOBYAN

According to data from different sources, in 2003 there were between


65,000 and 90,000 Armenians in Syria (Ayvazyan 2003: 508; Migliorino
2006: 6). In early 2011, the Armenians accounted for around 0.3% of the
Syrian population (Sanjian 2015: 74). Since the beginning of the Syrian
War, some 22,000 Syrian Armenians relocated to Armenia, more than
90% obtained Armenian citizenship (Zakaryan 2017; Armenia Sputnik,
14 March 2018), while around 15,000 Syrian Armenians migrated to
Lebanon (Zolyan 2015). In 2017, there were around 28,000 Arme-
nians living in Syria, 18,000 of them in Aleppo (Mshetsyan 2017). More
recent figures are variable but fluctuate because military operations are still
going on and political-military conditions on the ground are unstable.
At the time of writing (November 2020), Syrian Armenian migration
waves continue, not only from Syria but also from Armenia and Lebanon.
In February 2019, the General Consul of Armenia in Aleppo, Armen
Sargsyan, said that no more than 14,000–15,000 Armenians remained in
the city (Mkrtchyan 2019).
The direct involvement of the Turkish Armed Forces (TAF) and
the Turkoman militia in the Syrian conflict played a major role in
Syrian Armenians’ war narratives and its manifestations both in Syria
and in the Republic of Armenia. This process, in turn, brought about
interconnections between identity, migration and war (Hakobyan 2016).
Since 2000, relations between Syria and Turkey had started to improve,
but deteriorated with the start of the Syrian War. The Turkish govern-
ment, not only supported the Syrian Opposition—including both the Free
Syrian Army (FSA) and Salafi Jihadi groups—but hosted their headquar-
ters, too. Turkey became a main actor in the Syrian War, especially in
the north of the country. The TAF (and factions supported by them)
launched three distinct military operations in northwestern Syria. First,
the Operation Euphrates Shield (August 2016–March 2017), which led
to the Turkish occupation of part of northwestern Syria, between the
Euphrates and the opposition-Islamist held sector of Azaz. The targets
were the Islamic State (IS) and the (mostly Kurdish) Syrian Demo-
cratic Forces (SDF), which had their headquarters in the not far town
of Manbij. Second, Operation Olive Branch (January 2018), which led to

Kurumu (Turkish Historical Association) reject the use of the term “genocide” to describe
the Armenian massacres of 1915–1922. Turkish denial of the Armenian Genocide has been
described as “the most patent example of a state’s denial of its past” (Imblemau 2005:
244).
1 INTRODUCTION 3

the occupation of Afrin Canton. The target was the expulsion of Kurdish
armed groups from the area; specifically, the Peoples’ Protection Units
(YPG) and Women’s Protection Units (YPJ). Third, the Operation “Peace
Spring” (started on 9 October 2019), which aimed to expel the SDF
from the border region and create a 30 km-deep “safe zone” in northern
Syria. These three Operations have been portrayed as a way to relocate 3.6
million Syrian refugees presently hosted in Turkey (according to UNHCR
data of May 2020) and resettle them in northern Syria.
This book looks at how the ongoing Syrian conflict has prompted
changes in the attitude of war actors towards the Syrian Armenians
and their past—above all, towards the Armenian Genocide—and, in the
process, has transformed urban realities that are regarded as important
symbols of the Armenian diaspora. The discussion will shed light on war-
related social changes in three urban case studies: Kessab, Aleppo and Deir
ez-Zor. Here, conflict-related stories are part of everyday life and a means
for actors to express and negotiate their experience. The stories provide
a locus to examine the meanings that people ascribe to their lived expe-
riences, both individually and collectively. Our study asks: how everyday
life is changed by the war, and how Syrian Armenians’ social practices and
structure of everyday life of have changed during the war.
We argue that perception of Turkish interference among Syrian Arme-
nians in the Syrian conflict is caused by contemporary events and has
direct links to the past, to the memory of the 1915–1922 Armenian
Genocide; specifically, it is reproduced by events such as the 24 April
commemorations (see Chapter 5). The contemporary morphology and
the peculiar formation of the Syrian Armenian communities offer good
examples for our analysis of the way in which the present is linked to
the past and the past manifests itself in urban conflictual settings. This
helps us to understand why the involvement of Turkey in the Syrian War,
known in the Syrian Armenian communities as the “Turkish Factor”, is
seen by the Syrian Armenians dwelling in urban areas bordering Turkey
or Turkish affiliated factions’ controlled areas as an attempt by Turkey to
remove Armenian presence from Syria.
Here the past represents itself in contemporary wartime events. The
link emerges between the memory of the Armenian Genocide in the
Ottoman Empire and the role played by Turkey in the ongoing Syrian
War. Our case studies will help to clarify how the past is reproduced in the
present, materializing into a constant fear; how the experience of previous
4 M. MOLLICA AND A. HAKOBYAN

real events feeds the fear of their potential reproduction. This fear is anal-
ysed taking also into account transnational Armenian links in order to
assess how it has penetrated both the Republic of Armenia and other
Armenian diasporic settings.

Tracing the Roots of Interference


The Syrian War has a variety of dimensions and several consequences,
both inside and outside the border of what, before 2011, was the Syrian
Arab Republic. The conflict involved all its ethno-religious groups and
their transnational references, of which the Syrian Armenian community
was part and parcel. As complicated social phenomena, these processes,
dimensions and actors’ transnational loyalties need to be the focus of
academic analysis at least for two reasons: they are ongoing, fluid and
hot; an ethnographic account would allow a holistic view from different
perspectives.
We will relate the main argument directly to current events in Syria,
with a focus on the Syrian Armenian (here ethno-religiously defined)
communities dwelling in northern Syria. However, this ethno-religious
tension—vis-à-vis the Turkish Factor—continues not to be limited to
Christian (Armenian) settings in contemporary Syria. Here, the ethnog-
raphy of Benoit Fliche (2013) upon the Saint Anthony of Padua complex
in Istanbul is revealing. The church is a tourist attraction and a place
of worship, where Roman Catholics are joined by Greek and Armenian
Orthodox, as well as Sunni Muslims and Alevi. Such a mixed reli-
gious attendance enjoys an old tradition in Istanbul (another example
is given by the Church of the Fish). Today, Christian places continue
to be attended by Muslims, although many Muslims are said to avoid
frequenting Christian places in Turkey because of widespread anti-
Christian sentiments (Fliche 2013: 164–165) and growing inter-religious
tensions. For Armenians, such religious intolerance peaked with the trau-
matic assassination of the Armenian journalist Hrant Dink in January
2007 in Istanbul.
Armenians have inhabited what is contemporary Syria since ancient
times. Yet, the role played by Turkey in the Syrian War has determined
a view according to which their roots lie in the establishment of the
Armenian community in Syria as a survived collective and family memory
following the Armenian massacres of 1915–1922. Indeed, the memory of
the Armenian Genocide is the main marker of Syrian Armenian identity
1 INTRODUCTION 5

formation and representation, invariably built on post-Genocide diasporic


conditions.
The contemporary involvement of Turkey in the Syrian conflict is
seen by Syrian Armenians as a threat. This view is caused not only by
contemporary events; it also has direct links with the past, a past that is
reproduced by new events. The Turkish Factor has both structured the
political orientation of the Syrian Armenian community and influenced
their survival strategy. Memory has played a major role. The commemora-
tion and the symbols of the Armenian Genocide have become articulated
upon contemporary perceptions; today’s wartime narratives are linked to a
dramatic past, almost dissolving events’ temporal gap and spatial distance.
In the narratives that we have collected, informants often talk about the
“Turkish Army” and the “Turkish Factor” as synonymous with paramil-
itaries supported by the TAF. These formations are primarily made of
Turkmen factions, but at times they include moderate Opposition forces,
Salafi and even Jihadi terrorists.

Linking up Loci of Interference


In their analysis of the development of urban anthropology, Prato and
Pardo (2013: 80) note that this “relatively recent new field of study within
socio-cultural anthropology” is developing rapidly. In the last 10–15 years
there has been growing interest in urban ethnographic research, attracting
a growing number of ethnographers. Up to the 1970s, ethnology and
socio-cultural anthropology differed from sociology mainly because of the
different settings studied. On the one hand, socio-cultural anthropologists
focused mainly on small-scale, non-Western, pre-industrial communities.
On the other hand, sociologists focused upon large, industrialized, Euro-
American settings. Prato and Pardo (2013) provide a pertinent picture of
the variables that led to substantial changes in this picture and examine the
interdisciplinary problems. Key in the genesis of these methodological and
sub-disciplinary changes is the seminal work of Robert Redfield (1947)
on peasant city-dwellers and Richard Fox’s (1977) ethnographic research
in small-scale units. Prato and Pardo point to the importance of the study
of Raymond Firth (1956) on modern urban society and the contribution
of Max Gluckman (1961) on immigrants entering a new urban web of
relationships.
The development of anthropological research in Western urban
settings led to a prolonged methodological debate. Ulf Hannerz (1980)
6 M. MOLLICA AND A. HAKOBYAN

questioned whether urban anthropology did actually have a specific object


of study. Anthony Leeds (1973, 1980) suggested that “no town is an
island of itself”, as he depicted urban settings as “complex macrocosms”,
implicitly suggesting that it is this that would give us the key to unlock the
complexities at the local level. Pardo and Prato (2010) have pointed out
that a similar criticism emerged in relation to anthropological research in
Mediterranean societies that addressed local communities as if they were
isolated in space and time. As Pardo and Prato noted, these studies were
paradoxically pushing the discipline backwards rather than supporting
its advancement. Since the 1960s, as Prato and Pardo (2010) docu-
ment, there has been a proliferation of Mediterranean ethnographies.
Most ethnographies on the Middle East focused on the Israeli–Arab
conflict, the role of religion in political processes (Fischer 1980), popula-
tions’ ethnic composition (Shokeid and Dresden 1982) and nation-state
formation dynamics (Aronoff 1986).
The present discussion of our case studies (three Christian Armenian
communities located in the north of present-day Syrian Arab Republic)
develops a critique of the so-called Mediterraneanists, who, following
the functionalist approach initially conceived anthropology as the study
of isolated’ small-scale societies. It also takes into account the ques-
tions raised by a new generation of so-called Mediterraneanists. Critiques
formulated by Boissevain and Friedl (1975) and Herzfeld (1987) have
recently been reconsidered by Prato (2009), Pardo and Prato (2010) and
Giordano (2012).2
In sum, as Prato (2009) has synthesized, when research on urban
areas started in the 1930s, the functionalist approach was dominant in
anthropology, but there was a lack of appreciation of broader dynamics,
as had been theorized by Leeds (1964), whose approach was later influ-
ential in encouraging cross-cultural (Southall 1973) and historical (Fox
1977) studies. Thus, although a few authors tried to consider the wider
picture (Boissevain and Friedl 1975), it is from the late 1980s that this
trend took a definite form, although most studies were, at least initially,
neighbourhood-based (Sanjek 1994). Finally, it is with Pardo’s (1996)
seminal work in a major Western urban setting that micro- and macro-
realities were brought together.

2 For a chronological account of this debate see Giordano (2001, 2012).


1 INTRODUCTION 7

In this book, we argue that Christian enclaves in the Middle East


should not be seen as entities isolated in space and time nor disconnected
from the wider regional arena. Marcello Mollica reached similar conclu-
sions in his work on Syrian Orthodox Christians in Southeastern Turkey
(Mollica 2011) and on Christians of various denominations in South
Lebanon (Mollica 2010). Here, we aim to offer an empirical investiga-
tion3 of the means employed by the Armenian communities to confront
ethno-religious violence in conflictual urban settings in today’s Syria. We
focus on Syrian Armenian urban settings that are ethnically homogeneous
studying the links between contemporary events and dramatic past memo-
ries. We suggest that these settings are not isolated but are part of wider
dynamics and deep-rooted processes brought to the fore by war-related
events. Although our focus was on the Armenian Orthodox (Apostolic)
Church, the largest Syrian Armenian Christian denomination, we found
that the informants we interviewed in the Catholic and the Protestant
Syrian Armenian communities share the same religious symbolism on the
Genocide and its relation to contemporary events. However, we do not
attempt to interpret the entire view of the highly composite Christian
communities present in Syria. We will, instead, try to understand how the
Syrian Armenian communities face and respond to war-related threats.
Our discussion will engage contextually with the work of Dionigi
Albera (1988) and with the methodological debate recently developed in
the Palgrave Handbook of Urban Ethnography (Pardo and Prato 2017;
see also Prato and Pardo 2013; and the Introduction in Pardo and
Prato 2010). The analysis will benefit from specific contributions that
will help to address theoretically the issues underlining the case studies.
Where informal transactions are at work (Chapter 6), we will use theo-
ries on informality (Pardo 1996) and conflict, especially in the light of
anthropological debates on legitimacy (Pardo and Prato 2010). We will
investigate the influence of exogenous actors—that is, Turkish, Amer-
ican and Russian interests that contribute to determine the local uneasy
picture; for instance, we will look at how Russian interests have influenced
the particularities of the region (Chapter 7). In doing so, we will benefit
from the literature on ethno-religious violence and conflict in the Middle
East and on “Urban Anthropology” and “Mediterranean Anthropology”,

3 See on this Introduction, in Pardo and Prato (2012), and Mollica (2012).
8 M. MOLLICA AND A. HAKOBYAN

framing our discussion in the strong body of knowledge embodied by the


Series “Palgrave Studies in Urban Anthropology”.

Connecting War Actors


Giuliana Prato (2017a: 53) argues that if the future of our planet is linked
to the future of our cities, urban anthropology could be regarded as the
future of anthropology. From such a perspective, she also suggests that
“urban policies should address the cities in terms of ‘urban communi-
ties’”; that is, an ideal type in the Weberian sense (Weber 1966), whereby
the city is conceived as a body of citizens sharing common values and
laws “that demand the fulfilment of […] civic responsibility for the sake
of […] the common good [and] grant them rights” (Prato 2017a: 53).
She goes on to suggest that such an urban ideal type may not explain the
dynamics of contexts where religious fundamentalisms prevail, although
recent historical events show that even in such context the “ideal type
might have a strong appeal at grassroots level” (Prato 2017a: 54).
While Max Weber drew on the case of the European medieval city to
describe the urban ideal type, he also recognized the empirical relevance
of looking comparatively at different urban traditions in their histor-
ical contexts. He saw economic, political, administrative and military
organizations as key elements of a city, which appeared as an “urban
community” in the West but rarely so in the Near East. Prato’s reading
of the Weberian city ideal type refers also to qualities characterizing urban
dwellers; citizenship (here, individual rights) in this urban res publica is
a whole that encompasses politics, law, economy and culture, including
religion and material culture (Prato 2017a: 55–56).
Asef Bayat (2017) has recently applied to the Syrian War case a
comment originally made by Saskia Sassen (2011) on the Arab uprisings.
The argument was that the “ecology of the city” (a dense juxtaposition
of lives and places) complicates powerlessness; that it enables insurgent
“powerless” people to make history because, in their acts of suppression,
the states “cannot pulverize a city and its insurgent inhabitants” (Bayat
2017: 120). In a similar fashion, Ora Szekely (2017: 4–5) suggested the
use of the “metaphor of the ecosystem” to analyse complex conflicts.
Considering the interconnected actors in the Israeli-created protracted
conflict with non-state adversaries in Lebanon and Palestine, here the
“ecosystem” is a set of interacting organisms subject to different forms
of adaptation. If one organism is removed from the system because of
1 INTRODUCTION 9

an external shock or because a larger predator catches up with it, new


organisms may emerge. The emergence of these new participants may
follow sudden changes (Szekely 2017: 39–40, 288–290). This metaphor
has been used by several scholars; among them, David Kilcullen (2006),
who contemplated a plurality of actors to describe insurgency and coun-
terinsurgency at the local level. In what follows we use this metaphor
elaborated by Szekely (2017: 4–5) and focus on the regional level to
describe the interconnected network of state and non-state actors in the
Syrian conflict.

Legitimizing the Urban Space


The southeastern Syrian provincial town of Daraa is acknowledged as
the place where the Syrian uprising of 2011 started. The city is usually
described as having a well-developed infrastructure, social stratification
and urban lifestyles (Abu Lughod 1969). These characteristics do not
seem to have played a major role in the outbreak of the uprising but,
as Ghrawi et al. (2015: 8) have pointed out, they might have helped to
accelerate the events once the protests reached central areas. Thus, the
old-standing vexata quaestio, how do cities matter?
Mass action has probably occurred in different places while addressing
the same national issues (Tilly 1993: 274). For instance, Sami Zubaida
(2008) has analysed forms of popular mobilization in major cities of the
Ottoman Empire and its successor nation states, looking at how the trans-
formation from “traditional” urban politics has evolved, first, in the urban
quarters and, then, how a “political modernity” targeted the centres of
state power (Ghrawi et al. 2015: 12). Of course, we do not mean to say
that the occurrence of violence in Middle Eastern cities is an exception,
or something specifically Middle Eastern. We argue, with Ghrawi et al.
(2015: 21), that regional processes of urban modernization that are under
the influence of exogenous forces can create specific forms of contention.
Tilly (2004b: 229–232) argued that despite periodic manifestations of
“isolationism” and “nationalism” the Mediterranean region has always
been very “cosmopolitan”. Mediterranean spaces are often “reconfigured
in the light of struggles over rights, resources and identities” (Kousis et al.
2011: 12), which needs to be seen in the light of the bottom-up processes
of resistance that have challenged assumptions about regional political
powers. In Tilly’s analytical framework, conflictual Mediterranean spaces
become, as Kousis et al. have pointed out, a matter of the “activities and
10 M. MOLLICA AND A. HAKOBYAN

rhetorical/bureaucratic announcements of state [and] potent agency of a


variety of other actors and institutions” (2011: 12).
In his leading work on morals of legitimacy, Italo Pardo (1995, 1996,
2000a) has argued that people do not always accept as legitimate what is
formally deemed legal, nor do they regard as morally illegitimate actions
that may fall outside the boundaries of the law (Pardo, quoted in Prato
2019: 30). There may also be different expectations of political account-
ability in different political systems (Prato 2019: 31). Here, we are dealing
with a relevant aspect of political legitimacy in today society; that is,
“the role of the international community in legitimizing national affairs”
(Prato 2019: 53; see also Koechlin 2018; Mollica 2018a; Spyridakis
2018).
The authority to rule depends on recognition of rulers’ legitimacy
across society (Pardo 2000b; Pardo and Prato 2019: 2). With reference
to our ethnography, Pardo’s anthropology of legitimacy (2000a, 2019;
Pardo and Prato 2011) would suggest that the international community
should pay attention not only to the aspects of legitimacy that derive from
people’s shared beliefs and traditions but also to how these aspects play
out in a “specific political and social context” (Pardo and Prato 2019:
2–3). An erosion of the legitimacy of the “system” (Pardo and Prato
2019: 5) is engendered by the action of political and governmental bodies
that fail to respond to the instances of citizenship (Arendt 1972: 140,
quoted in Pardo and Prato 2019: 7), as well as by the distortions of local
bureaucracy and the arbitrariness of the law (Fuller 1969, quoted in Pardo
and Prato 2019: 8; Pardo 2000a). These occurrences will, in turn, widen
the gap between rulers and the ruled (Spyridakis 2018; Pardo and Prato
2019: 5–6). After all, to have authority, power needs legitimacy (Arendt
1972: 151, quoted in Pardo and Prato 2019: 7), and authority needs
trust (Pardo 2000a, 2004). When rulers lose legitimacy, power by default
loses authority, turning into authoritarianism (Pardo and Prato 2019: 6).
In the end, these processes define the urban field (Pardo and Prato 2012;
Prato and Pardo 2013; Krase and DeSena 2016, quoted in Pardo 2019:
8).
Citizens may question the legitimacy of decision-making processes as
well as of policy and the law (Pardo and Prato 2019: 7). They may not
“necessarily equate what is moral to what is legal”, or “separate the legal
from the legitimate” (Pardo 2017b: 44–47, also 2000a and 2004). Pardo
and Prato (2019: 8) build on Beetham’s (2013[1991], quoted in Pardo
2019: 8) reformulation of the Weberian approach to suggest that the
1 INTRODUCTION 11

main contemporary debate in this field is inspired by Weber’s theory of


different forms of authority and their sources of legitimacy. They suggest
that the “social-scientific study of legitimacy [that] should recognize the
distinction between normative and empirical aspects and [thus] produce
an analysis of the social construction of legitimacy; that is why people
accept or reject a particular form of government and governance” (Pardo
and Prato 2019: 8). They meaningfully ask, how much more governance
failure before legitimacy is withdrawn? In our Syrian case, we may go
further and ask, how much governance effort is needed before legitimacy
can be brought back?
As Pardo and Prato point out, the legitimacy of the socio-political
order is in constant transformation (see Norbert Elias (1982[1939]), as
are conceptions of legitimacy (Pardo and Prato 2019: 8). Nevertheless,
legitimacy builds upon personal credibility and public accountability, and
our ethnographic analysis should recognize that “the credibility of rulers
builds on relations of reciprocal trust” (Pardo and Prato 2019: 10–11).
Kertzer (1988: 12) conceptualized men as perceiving and evaluating
material forces and their physical environment through a symbolic appa-
ratus. So, political power relations are manifested through symbolic means
of communication (Kertzer 1988: 177). Thus, in line with Pardo (1993),
power relations may be evaluated through a symbolic apparatus that places
them beyond immediate material interest, and in relation to the accom-
plishment of a given vision of society. As testified by Prato’s ethnography
of the Apulian town of Brindisi (Prato 2017b: 98), symbols are, indeed,
necessary conditions for these processes to be legitimised. Symbols have
to exist to subsequently legitimate events and they must be “all-purposive,
rational, and well-defined because the message they convey must have
the [immediacy] of a slogan” (Prato 2017b: 98). That, as Prato argues
(2017b: 107–108), political symbols must be as powerful as possible is
especially significant in a conflict setting as Deir ez-Zor (see Chapter 5).
In our case studies, alongside their political representation, the reli-
gious representation of symbols has great importance, especially as their
religious meaning is associated with historical memory. As we discuss in
Chapter 4, it is by reference to a clear, immediately identifiable symbolism
that the action of political actors and factions become understand-
able and the target audience—in our case, the urban Syrian Armenian
communities—can easily identify with them.
12 M. MOLLICA AND A. HAKOBYAN

Armenian Urban Loci of Remembrance


Urban anthropological research on Armenian loci began in the late Soviet
period (Abrahamian and Pikichyan 1987; 1989). It was, however, in
post-Soviet times that this field became established as a specific area of
study in both mainland Armenia and diasporic settings. The dramatic
political, cultural and social changes that took place after the collapse of
the Soviet Empire extended to urban settings. They also produced new
socio-cultural forms and identities, and new meanings and functions. In
mainland Armenia, the post-Soviet urban transformation was first studied
by Levon Abrahamian in the context of the rallies that took place in
the 1980s (Abrahamian 1990a and 1990b) and of the urban protests
of 2008 (Abrahamian and Shagoyan 2013). The study of the capital,
Yerevan, took into account the significance of the old and new names
of its streets and squares (Abrahamian 2006: 45–50), of religious spaces
(Abrahamian 2011), of the changes in city planning (Marutyan 2014)
and the new national narrative (Abrahamian 2003, 2006: Ch. 13, 2010,
2012). Shagoyan work (2003, 2011) in the city of Gyumri, the second-
largest Armenian city, focused on the ways in which Soviet memory,
post-Soviet memory and urban space related to new and old monuments.
Melkumyan (2014, 2018a) and Taalaibekova and Melkumyan (2018)
investigated the relationship between the urban setting and informality.
Melkumyan mostly focused on urban everyday life and public spaces in
Yerevan in the study of socio-cultural transformation and symbolism.
Fehlings (2014) analysed urban social life and the construction and
classification of urban space in Armenia. The urban historian Taline Ter-
Minasian (2007) examined the relationship between the national context
and the urban space drawing on the case of Yerevan, defined as “an excep-
tionally successful experience of territorialisation” (Ter-Minasian 2007:
10) of the Soviet national identity policy. Ter-Minasian examined archival
materials to reconstruct the history of the evolution of Yerevan from a
provincial eastern town at the turn of the nineteenth century to repub-
lican and, then, national capital. Abrahamian (2016, 2018) compared the
1 INTRODUCTION 13

anthropological aspects of the so-called Tamanian Yerevan4 to a “con-


structivist” vision of the city. The urban anthropology of Yerevan also
includes a poetic architectural analysis of the city’s genius loci (Ivanov
2014) and studies of urban memory of the city’s loci based on oral history
(Melkumyan 2019) and micro-historical analysis (Sukiasyan 2012). From
different perspectives, Abrahamian (2013) looked at the urban structure
through informal groups and authorities-controlled city quarters in Soviet
times and Tadevosyan (2010, 2011) explored new structural trends and
changes in post-Soviet times. Other studies were conducted in Gyumri
(Shagoyan 2012) and smaller towns.5
Most relevant here is, however, the relation between the memory of
the Armenian Genocide and its commemoration and the urban space,
which impacts also diasporic Armenian settings (Chapter 4). Marutyan
(2008) studied places where monuments were erected to remember
Genocide victims in the context of Armenian mourning rites. Marutyan
took into account the problems surrounding the construction of the
monument and argued that the tradition of annual pilgrimage to the
monument became a specific manifestation of an ancestor cult that rested
on both social memory and national rituals. Gayane Shagoyan (2009,
2010, 2011) discusses natural and social crises, memory and urban
space in the city of Gyumri with specific reference to the problem of
memorializing the destructive earthquake of December 1988. Here, the
memorialization of the earthquake is embodied in a project of monument
dedicated to the victims and clearly oriented towards already existing
schemes of remembrance, such as that concerning the Armenian Geno-
cide. However, on the one hand, the memory of the genocide is aimed
at re-establishing historical justice; on the other hand, the earthquake
memory leads to a rationalization of the collective memory of a tragedy
and its lesson. Similarly, studies conducted in urban Armenian diasporic
settings looked at the post-Soviet relation between ethnicity and urban
coexistence. One thinks of research done among the Armenian commu-
nity of Tbilisi (Ponomareva 2014) and among that of Saint Petersburg,

4 Alexander Tamanian (1878–1936) was a Russian-born Armenian neoclassical archi-


tect, who, in 1924, created the first general plan of modern Yerevan, which transformed
this small provincial city into a modern capital combining neoclassicism with a national
architectural tradition (Zoryan 1978: 133–134).
5 See, for example, Hamlet Melkumyan’s (2018b) analysis of Soviet urban myths in
Metsamor and of the city post-Soviet fate.
14 M. MOLLICA AND A. HAKOBYAN

where cultural markers related to the memory of the genocide were


defining components of group solidarity and identity (Brednikova and
Chikadze 1998; Angelmyuller 1998).

Heterogeneous Diasporic Settings


In this book, we endorse the definition of diaspora given by Kokot
et al. (2013a, 2003b) as constituted of expatriate groups who, regard-
less of individuals’ status or citizenship, see themselves as part of a global
network sharing a common myth or belief in their origin and a common
identity. In the last decades, this definition has included migrant groups
of different ethno-religious belonging and origins (Cohen 1997).
Even if some diaspora groups accept the views and the behavioural
patterns of their host countries, their original identification is main-
tained through what Gabriel Sheffer (2003: 70) called “their primordial
ethno-national-religious or transnational backgrounds”. To maintain their
“primordial” identities, people need to maintain ties both to their dias-
pora groups and to their homelands (Sheffer 2003: 71). Diasporas are
often heterogeneous and scholars should deal with each diaspora commu-
nity as an individual heterogeneous entity. Studies such as that conducted
by Christian Giordano (2013: 218) in Penang indicate that diasporas
often contain important socio-cultural diversity. Diaspora heterogeneity
becomes evident when it comes to the political mobilization of internal
subgroups which cluster together in the host countries (Mollica 2018b:
166). It follows that we should avoid considering diasporic settings as
tout court homogeneous units.
At this juncture, we should mention that the precise status to be given
to Syrian Armenians who left the Arab Republic of Syria and entered the
Republic of Armenia continues to be a hot topic. Attention is high on
these people’s status and on the way in which it is constructed and inter-
preted: are they “Refugees”, “Homecoming” or “Repatriates”? Although
they are de facto refugees, they reject to be called refugees and most
of them have gained Armenian citizenship. Armenian policy was based
on a specific approach, whereby they are received as Armenians, as part
of the nation (there is indeed no legislation on repatriation), for both
sides consider Armenia to be their Homeland or part of their historical
Homeland.
In turn, what does it mean to be a Syrian Armenian in the Republic
of Armenia (or in Lebanon)? This caveat is relevant because it helps us
1 INTRODUCTION 15

to address the issue of their status while still in the Arab Republic of
Syria. The historic part of this question will be answered later in Chap-
ters 2 and 3, where we will examine in detail their status as a minority
when the Syrian War started in 2011 and how they were affected by
this status during the War. This status determined communal and polit-
ical changes while becoming instrumental in justifying the use of violence
against Armenian communities. This issue will be the object of extended
discussion in the three Chapters (4, 5 and 6) dedicated to the Armenian
Syrian settings.

Challenges in Data Collection: From


Symbolic Names to New Legal Definitions
This book adopts an interdisciplinary approach that links “memory”,
“transnationalism” and “diaspora”. The study draws on fieldwork based
on participant observation and in-depth interviews. Multi-sited mate-
rial (Marcus 1995, Falzon 2009) was collected mainly in the Republic
of Armenia from mid-2013 to mid-2020. We conducted a total of 40
interviews among Armenian refugees, migrants and religious and polit-
ical leaders. All informants were Syrian Armenians from three Christian
denominations. They were 21 men and 19 women between the ages of
25 and 72. Most interviews were conducted in Armenian (Western Arme-
nian language); they were semi-structured and life story-oriented. We
conducted 12 interviews also in Beirut, mainly in the Armenian quarter of
Bourj Hammoud, with refugees and NGO workers, and organized some
focus groups. Six interviews were conducted in English and French.
Given the nature of the interviews, all interviewees will remain anony-
mous. Although we endeavoured to keep our scientific neutrality, field-
work became problematic, especially, when dealing with sensitive and
traumatic situations, events and phenomena. We have to consider the
socio-political conditions and the war situation in which Syrian Armenians
continue to live. The people who tell these stories are de facto refugees
and war victims. Their future prospects are still unclear. However, we real-
ized that the fieldwork itself gave them a sense of freedom because they
had never before openly discussed such highly sensitive issues, as they
lived in a conflictual environment that restricted their socio-political life.
16 M. MOLLICA AND A. HAKOBYAN

Family memories were very vivid among all generations of Syrian


Armenians. The genealogies of our informants6 and their life stories
included memories of the places of origin, deportations and refugee
camps. Deportation routes and diasporic settlements are part of the narra-
tives, which were indeed constructed through the memories of these
spaces; for instance, towns or cities such as Marash (Kahramanmaraş),
Ayntab (Gaziantep), Aleppo, Bab (Al-Bab), Constantinople (Istanbul),
Urfa (Şanlıurfa), Arabunar (Arab Punar, Ayn Al-Arab, Kobane), Zeitun,
and so on. The following extracts from interviews are exemplary.
A 34-year-old man who is a Syrian Armenian Refugee (henceforth,
SAR) said:

My grandfather on my mother’s side was from Kamurj (Gamursh), a village


close to Urfa. Their parents migrated to Syria. My grandfather was born
in Ras al-Ayn and my grandmother was from Arabunar […] In the 1930s,
they migrated to Aleppo. My mother was born in Aleppo. Relatives on
my father’s side were from Constantinople, but originally from Kutahya
[…] They migrated in 1919 to Aleppo, when the Kemalists started the
persecutions against Armenians. My grandfather’s two sisters moved to
France but we have lost contact with them. Also, my father had a brother,
who was in Greece. (interviewed in Beirut, May 2015)

A 72-year-old man from Aleppo declared:

My parents were born in Zeitun. They belonged to the first generation


of the Genocide. At that time, my father was 14 and my mother was 10.
They did not know each other in Zeitun. They reached Aleppo, where
they met and got married. Then they had six children, two boys and four
girls. They were from Zeitun, which they discussed as if it was ‘one world’.
My father was from Avakgal (today Avcılar) and my mother from Zeitun
town. My father said that their parents got married just after the Great War.
The Armenians from Zeytum called ‘Great War’ the Hamidian massacres
[1895–1896]. My father recalled how they reached Bab in 1915 and from
there he escaped from their caravan and hid. During the day he hid; he
moved at night watching out for Ottoman soldiers, who would arrest him.
After a while, he reached Aleppo, where he started working for a rich Arab
family. Laster, he found a job in the local railways. He lost contact with all

6 This is how anthropologists classically call the people they meet in the field and get
information from.
1 INTRODUCTION 17

his relatives. However, a sister survived and was found in the 1940s in the
Jazira region, in the village of Tell Brak. She had ‘Arab’ tattoos all over
her face. Then she came to Aleppo, and in 1947 she moved from Aleppo
to Soviet Armenia. On my mother side, only a brother survived. It took a
long time before the family could re-establish contact with him. He lived
in Teheran. But they could not meet. The brother and the sister never saw
each other again. They could only exchange letters. (SAR, int. in Yerevan,
April 2015)

A 61-year-old man from Aleppo stated:

My father’s and my mother’s families arrived in Aleppo in 1915. My


grandfather was from the village of Chalghara (Calkata) in Bursa, close to
Eskişehir. After they reached Aleppo, they were deported to Deir ez-Zor.
In Deir ez-Zor, my grandfather’s sister died. My grandfather was 17 or
18. He planned to escape from Deir ez-Zor and reach Mosul, in Iraq. His
grandfather was one of the few who survived in Deir ez-Zor; the others
were massacred […] My father’s mother family came from the Gyurun
(today Gurun) town of Sebastia (today Sivas). They reached Aleppo with
a caravan. They managed to remain in Aleppo; probably they paid local
officials […]. So, the three families started to live in hiding in Aleppo.
(SAR/int. in Yerevan, April 2015)

We then linked different topographic areas, historical situations and


research settings. Over the last seven years, we carried out our research in
a classic anthropological fashion, combining documentary research mate-
rial and the collection of ethnographic data. Apart from the regional
differences between the chosen diasporic research settings, field research
timetables were conditioned by the practical arrangements forced by the
ongoing Syrian War and refugees’ needs in the host countries (two sched-
uled field-trips in Qamishli in 2019 had to be cancelled because of security
reasons) and, more recently, by the restrictions imposed on international
mobility by the Covid-19 pandemic.7
We adapted the method of participant observation to the different
settings, both diasporic and in the Republic of Armenia. The research
done among the Armenian communities in the urban settings of Bourj

7 Two Staff Mobility Erasmus and ICM KA107 between the University of Messina,
Italy, and the Yerevan State University, Armenia, scheduled for 2020 had to be postponed
to 2021.
18 M. MOLLICA AND A. HAKOBYAN

Hammoud in Beirut and Yerevan require some explanation, due to the


different topography, history, group composition and size, and social
environment. We had to take into account the complex role of diaspora
Armenian activists (see Chapter 8), and had to decide whether to limit
our investigation to the grassroots or target also political leaders, such as
ethnic Armenians elected in the Lebanese Parliament and Syrian Arme-
nians returning to the Republic of Armenia. In Lebanon, the Armenian
community is a recognized ethno-religious community having a share in
the consociational model; according to the confessional power-sharing
system, at the time of writing, the Armenian community enjoyed two
Ministers—Social Affairs, led by an Armenian Catholic, and Tourism,
led by an Armenian Apostolic. In Armenia, the situation concerning
the Syrian Armenians is completely different. There, the first experience
related to refugees was connected with the Nagorno Karabakh conflict.
From 1988 to 1992, the Republic of Armenia received around 400,000
Armenian refugees from Azerbaijan. When the first state institutions for
refugees were established, refugees became part of the official everyday
narrative. The specific phenomenon of an Armenia state receiving Arme-
nian refugees brought about peculiar institutional developments. As
Bagdasaryan stated, “According to official discourse and initial public
sentiments, they were accepted as a part of the Armenian nation, and
as Soviet citizens were considered victims of nationalist violence” (2011:
530).
In 1990, the Committee on Refugees Affairs under the Council of
Ministers of the Republic of Armenia was formed on the basis of the State
Committee for Admission and Accommodation of Armenians Returning
to the Armenian SSR—this institution overlooks the repatriation of
Armenians from abroad. In 1993, Armenia ratified the 1951 Refugee
Convention and the 1967 Protocol relating to the Status of Refugees.
The country passed the first law on refugees in 1999, thus defining the
national asylum system. Between the end of the 1990s and at the begin-
ning of the 2000s, Armenia conducted a policy of extensive naturalization
of Armenian refugees from Azerbaijan, making most of the Armenian citi-
zens (Ghazaryan 2018: 126–134). In 2000, the Committee on Refugees
Affairs was replaced by the Migration State Service, a government body
responsible for refugees and migration policy. In 2008, Armenia adopted
the Law of Refugee and Asylum. According to Bagdasaryan, “The priv-
ileged access of ethnic Armenians to Armenian citizenship is also visible
in the state policy aiming at refugees’ naturalization (that is, citizenship
1 INTRODUCTION 19

acquisition). Refugees who resided in Armenia by the time the law on citi-
zenship was accepted (1995) were recognized Armenian citizens if they
expressed the will to acquire Armenian citizenship” (2014: 168).
However, in the Armenian context, the definition and understanding
of repatriation differs from those formulated in the documents of the
international organizations. In Armenia, “repatriation” is connected with
the Diaspora Armenians and refers specifically to their migration to
Armenia. Indeed, the categories of “refugee” and “repatriate” overlap,
as a person’s willingness to resettle in Armenia coincides with his or her
fleeing persecution in another country. Today, a number of laws regulate
the issues connecting refugees and repatriation.8 The Armenian Consti-
tution stresses the importance of keeping strong ties with the Armenian
Diaspora. To achieve this aim, it is believed that the country must adopt
policies that help to preserve Armenian identity and repatriation. The
Constitution and the Law of Citizenship which was passed in 1995 and
amended in 2007 give priority to people of Armenian origin, who can
gain citizenship through a simplified procedure (Davtyan 2017). Since
2005, the Republic of Armenia has adopted the right to dual citizenship.
A number of twentieth-century immigration procedures have played
a relevant role for today’s Armenia. Among them: 1) 1915–1921,
during the Genocide, hundreds of thousands of Armenians moved to
present-day Armenia. From 1921 till 1936 the immigration was orga-
nized by Soviet authorities already in Soviet Armenia. 2) 1946–1948,
after the Second World War, tens of thousands of Diaspora Armenians
immigrated to Soviet Armenia—known as the Great Repatriation; 3)
1962–1982, around 32,500 Armenian immigrants were transferred to
Soviet Armenia from Turkey, Iran and Middle Eastern countries—Syria,
Lebanon, Jordan—as well as from France and Cyprus (Meliksetyan 1996:
279). More recently, in 2003, due to the Iraq war, Armenia received
more than 1,000 Armenians from Iraq; all were recognized as refugees.
In 2008, the Armenian Ministry of Diaspora was established as part of the
government of the Republic of Armenia. During the Syrian conflict, this
body was responsible for Syrian Armenians in Armenia. The Armenian
government adopted laws about Syrian Armenians relating to citizen-
ship procedures, visas and education, and offered them state land outside

8 Namely: the 1994 Law on Foreigners; the 1995 Constitution (later amended in
2015); the 1995 Law on Citizenship; the 2008 Law on Refugees and Asylum.
20 M. MOLLICA AND A. HAKOBYAN

Yerevan to build a district called New Aleppo.9 In 2018, the Ministry of


Diaspora became Office of the High Commissioner for Diaspora Affairs.
Meanwhile, Syrian Armenians have established their own NGOs, such as
the Centre for Coordination of Syrian Armenian Issues and the Aleppo
Compatriotic Charitable Organization.

Book Structure
This book is divided into two parts. First, the discussion focuses on
memory and transnationalism with reference to the Armenian case. It
also offers an overview of the history of the Armenian Diaspora, on
Syrian Armenians as a minority in the Diaspora and on the role played
by the Syrian Armenian community before and during the Syrian War.
Second, it addresses the role of memory in specific events, such as the
bombing of Armenian historical sites during the commemorations of 24
April in the Eastern Syrian city of Deir ez-Zor. Third, with emphasis on
urban conflict, we examine the (perceived) shift from destroying Syrian
Armenians’ material culture to an attempt to destroy the very Armenian
community in urban Aleppo. Fourth, we examine informal transactions
in the border area of Kessab, where informal economic activities overlap
paramilitary activities linked to the terrorist attack by the Al-Nusra Front
in March 2014.10 Finally, Chapter 8 is devoted to the conquest of Jarab-
ulus and Afrin areas and Jazira region in northern Syria by the TAF and
Turkish backed factions. This final chapter aims at providing a chronology
of military operations in Armenian historical settings in the Kurdish area.

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CHAPTER 2

Armenians in the Ottoman Empire: From


Violence to Genocide

Defining the Historical Armenian Homeland


In the mid-nineteenth century, European travellers and scholars
numbered Armenians in the Ottoman Empire as 2,500,000; in 1882,
there were 2,660,000 Armenians in the Armenian Apostolic Patriarchate.
Nevertheless, the 1912 statistics put their number to only 2,100,000; the
decrease of 500,000 was due to the massacres of 1894, 1896 and 1909,
and to migration in Caucasia, Europe and the United States (Hovannisian
1997b: 234).
The Armenian Highland (Plateau) is located in the east of Anatolia, at
the northeast border of the Iranian Plateau. The Caucasus extends to the
northeast of the Armenian Highland. To the southwest of the Armenian
Plateau is Upper Mesopotamia. This territory is historic Armenia; it is
the homeland of Armenians (Payaslian 2007: 4–5), and a battleground
for military and cultural competition between empires seeking spheres of
influence (Payaslian 2007: 5).
The “homeland” to which we refer had seen long periods of war
and the establishment of Muslim domination. From the ninth century,
when after three hundred years Armenian independence ended, Muslim
domination involved Armenian deportations and the establishment of
Muslim emirates. As a consequence, no native Armenian royal dynasty has
ruled there ever since, although small Armenian principalities remained
(Garsoian 2012: 121). Religious problems were, however, not confined

© The Author(s), under exclusive license to Springer Nature 31


Switzerland AG 2021
M. Mollica and A. Hakobyan, Syrian Armenians and the Turkish Factor,
Palgrave Studies in Urban Anthropology,
https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-030-72319-4_2
32 M. MOLLICA AND A. HAKOBYAN

to Muslim-Armenian relations. Armenians, like other Christians in the


eastern part of the Empire, were happy to escape Byzantine religious
harassment. Later, the invasion of the Saljuq had indeed little to do
with religious persecution. Nevertheless, with the Crusades, from the
eleventh century, their position of dhimmi (protected people under Sharia
Law) worsened; later, the Mongol conquest brought even worse conse-
quences (Fierro 2011: 176). The Turkish invasion of Cappadocia in 1074
forced Armenians to migrate to Asia Minor’s south-eastern peninsula and
northern Syria, where they established the kingdom of Cilician Armenia
(Fierro 2011: 303). In 1221, the sultan Alauddin Keyjubay began the
conquest of the Mediterranean coast east of Antalya at the expense of
Cilician Armenia, taking the port of Kalonoros (later named Alanya in his
honour). He settled many Turcoman in this region and reduced Cilician
Armenia to a minor client state (Fierro 2011: 307).
Between 1502 and 1783, the territory of Armenia became a battle-
ground between Ottoman and Safavid Empires and the campaigns and
counter-campaigns led to Armenian migration. Eventually, the Ottoman
army consolidated its power across historic Armenian lands and beyond
from Sivas to Erzurum to Van to Mosul. The Treaty of Zuhab (1639),
signed by Sultan Murad IV and Shah Safi I, granted to the Ottomans
Iraq (including Baghdad and Mosul) and a large part of historic Armenia,
from the Armenian Plateau to the region of the Lake of Van, Bayazed,
Kars and Ardahan; Persia controlled Tabriz, Shirvan and Yerevan. The
treaty divided historic Armenia in Turkish Armenia and Persian Armenia
(Payaslian 2007: 106). This is the background that at the end of the nine-
teenth century caused the dispersal of Ottoman Armenians throughout
the provinces, but most concentrated in their historic lands — Bitlis,
Diyarbakır, Erzurum, Kharpert (Harpout), Sivas and Van—and in Cilicia
(Payaslian 2007: 115).

The Armenian Millet


At the end of the nineteenth century, the Ottoman Empire entered a
period of decline, which in turn led to a political vacuum. However, rival
European powers entered into open conflict when trying to fill the gap
created by the weakness of the Ottoman Empire (Hovannisian 1997b:
230–231). Armenian socio-political programmes had entered interna-
tional diplomacy at the Congress of Berlin of 1878. But there they clashed
with the inability of world powers to solve what was already known as
2 ARMENIANS IN THE OTTOMAN EMPIRE … 33

“the Armenian Question”, part of the Eastern Question. This caused the
expulsion of Armenians from most of their historic lands. The 1894–
1896 massacres first, then the Cilician pogroms of 1909 and, finally,
the Armenian Genocide (1915–1922) caused their exodus from Cilicia,
their historical homeland, and from other areas of the Ottoman Empire
(Hovannisian 1997a: VIII). Paradoxically, the latter event followed the
Young Turks revolution, which many Armenians believed could bring
freedom of speech and assembly. Young Turks had ascribed the Adana
massacres to reactionaries and had conducted a public memorial service
for Turkish and Armenian citizens who gave their lives for the revolution
(Hovannisian 1997b: 230–231). But soon things changed dramatically,
and the Eastern Question grew to occupy the international diplomacy up
to the end of World War One (Barsoumian 1997: 175).
A major by-product of the Eastern Question affected the “millet
system”. In a Muslim state, an individual’s place in society was determined
by his religion. In the Ottoman context, the word millet was applied to
religiously defined non-Muslim communities. The millet system provided
the means to manage diverse races, languages, cultures and religions,
as these communities enjoyed autonomy in internal affairs; they main-
tained their customs, laws and institutions when dealing with personal
status (marriage, divorce, inheritance). The millet system was based on
dhimmi principles.1 The dhimmis were protected and tolerated people
who, having a subordinate status, accepted to pay a tax for their protec-
tion; this, in the context of an Ottoman administration for which the
taxation of its subjects was a priority. Although in the Ottoman Empire
the millet allowed freedom of worship, dhimmis underwent discrimina-
tions at both community and individual level, and were forced to pay
higher taxes, did not have the right to bear arms, et cetera (Barsoumian
1997: 182–185). This situation was common throughout the Ottoman
Empire, including in the European subjugated regions. For example,
Prato (2004: 71) notes that in the Albanian millets those who converted
to Islam received “a better, less harsh treatment at the hands of the
Turks”; in a sense, they “became first-class citizens who benefitted from
an advantageous system of taxation”. Furthermore, by converting to
Islam, “high-ranking Albanians would have access to relevant position

1 Dhimmi (in Arabic) or zimmi (in Turkish) means “the people of the covenant” or
literally -“protected person”, a term refers to non-Muslims living under Islamic dominion
with legal protection.
34 M. MOLLICA AND A. HAKOBYAN

in the Ottoman administrative or military hierarchies”. However, the


millet functioned as long as non-Muslims accepted their status, because
once they refused then the system would collapse (Barsoumian 1997:
182–185).
At the beginning of the nineteenth century, alongside the Muslim
millet, there were three other major millet: Greek Orthodox, Jewish
and Armenian (Lewis 1995: 320). The Greek Orthodox millet was the
second largest, including Greeks, Serbs, Bulgarians, Romanians, Macedo-
nians, Vlachs, Albanians and Arabs. The Jewish millet was the smallest and
included various Jewish congregations, including the Rabbinite, who were
followers of Talmudic Judaism, and Karaite, the Iberian immigrants who
escaped from Spain after 1492 (Barsoumian 1997: 182–185). The Arme-
nian millet , the third-largest, was homogeneous and consisted mostly of
members of the Armenian Apostolic Church. It also included Turkish-
speaking Armenians, who wrote Turkish in Armenian characters, and
followers of the Coptic and Syriac Churches. Neither the Greek nor
the Armenian millet included Uniate (Greeks or Armenians) or, later,
converts to Protestantism (Lewis 1995: 320). Thus, Armenians who lived
within the borders of the Ottoman Empire were part of the Armenian
millet. For the management of millet affairs, the Ottomans acknowledged
only the authority of the Armenian Apostolic Patriarch of Constantinople.
However, some “unclassified” Christian groups were also considered to
be part of the Armenian millet; specifically, Assyrians, who voluntarily
joined the Armenian millet in 1783. By the mid-nineteenth century,
especially after the secession of Greece from the Ottoman Empire, up
to the end of the nineteenth century, the Armenian millet acquired
greater importance. Armenians were deemed to be reliable elements to
the extent that their millet was called Millet-i-Sadika—literally, the loyal
millet (Barsoumian 1997: 185–187).

The Armenian Apostolic Patriarchate of Constantinople


In this context, the Armenian Apostolic Patriarchate of Constantinople,
established in the first half of the fifteenth century, soon became a
universal centre of authority. By the mid-eighteenth century, it had
acquired jurisdiction over all Armenians in the Empire, except those under
the authority of the catholicosates of Sis (Cilicia) and Aghtamar (Lake of
Van area) and of the patriarchate of Jerusalem (Palestine, southern Syria,
2 ARMENIANS IN THE OTTOMAN EMPIRE … 35

Lebanon, Cyprus, Egypt).2 However, the Sis and Aghtamar catholicosates


needed the Patriarch of Constantinople to deal with the Ottoman govern-
ment, despite the Patriarchate being inferior, until the mid-nineteenth
century, to the catholicosates in the ecclesiastical hierarchy. However, the
catholicosates were located in isolated places, while the patriarchate was
in the capital city. The Patriarch ranked equal to a pasha and was directly
invested from the Sultan. He was responsible for the collection of taxes
and enjoyed jurisdiction over the entire Armenian millet. He had on his
premises a court and a prison, where he could try all cases but those
involving public security and crime. He owned property, was exempt from
taxation and was empowered to appoint tax collectors. He controlled
education and could grant permission to construct or repair churches,
schools and printing establishments. Between the seventeenth-nineteenth
centuries, he was responsible for defending his Church against Catholic
priests and Protestant missionaries, who had then begun to gain converts
(Barsoumian 1997: 185–187).

The Armenian Catholic Church


Armenians had been in contact with the Catholic Church since the
time of the Cilician kingdom. In the seventeenth century Catholic
proselytising resumed with the support of Catholic Western powers, espe-
cially France and Austria. Jesuit and Capuchin congregations penetrated
the Ottoman Empire and won converts. Initially, the Apostolic Arme-
nian Church resisted the Catholic missionaries with the support of the
Ottoman government, who considered the Armenian Church as endoge-
nous. Slowly, however, Catholicism spread, despite it having no separate
church or legal status. Ottomans regarded Catholics as members of the
Armenian millet, but Catholics were split into two camps: the Colle-
gians, who were in favour of the supremacy of the Pope and denied
the validity of the sacraments of the Armenian Church; and the Abbo-
tians, who kept many traditions of the Mother Church and were in

2 In the Ottoman Empire, the Armenian Apostolic Church had patriarchates in


Constantinople and Jerusalem and two catholicosates, in Sis and Aghtamar. The Catholi-
cosate of Aghtamar was an independent See that existed from 1113 to 1895. In 1895,
the two dioceses that formed the catholicosate were incorporated in the Patriarchate of
Constantinople. The Seat remained vacant until the Armenian Genocide and was abolished
in 1916 by the Turkish government (Vardanyan 2002: 36–37; Kevorkian 2011: 682).
36 M. MOLLICA AND A. HAKOBYAN

favour of union. Attempts at unity failed. In spite of the 1820 declara-


tion of faith Hraversiro (Call to Love), Collegians, who were hostile to
the unity, disrupted the reconciliation. In the face of the following riots,
in fact a rebellion against the state, the Ottoman government used force
to restore order. Later, during the Greek Revolution, Sultan Mahmoud
II, as a defiant gesture against the Allied powers, issued an edict (1827)
to ban Catholic Armenians from Istanbul. However, two years later, in
1829, the Treaty of Adrianople provided for their return. It was finally
with the election of the Catholic priest Hagopos Manuelian as head of
Armenian Catholics that an imperial decree (1831) established the recog-
nition of the Catholic Armenian community as a distinct millet. Then,
in 1834, the bishopric was raised to patriarchate (Frazee 1983: 259–260;
Barsoumian 1997: 185–187). However, the first steps towards the insti-
tutionalization of Catholicism among Armenians had already taken place
in Middle Eastern settings under the Ottoman Empire. In 1738, the
Armenian Catholics of Aleppo obtained a church and had an independent
patriarchate with their bishop. In 1742, Abraham Petros I Ardzivian, the
Armenian Catholic bishop of Aleppo, was confirmed by Pope Benedict
XIV as Catholicos-Patriarch of Cilicia. This was the beginning of a formal
Armenian Catholic hierarchy. In 1749, the seat of the new hierarchy was
moved to the monastery of Bzommar in Lebanon (Frazee 1983: 187;
Whooley 2016: 120).

The Armenian Protestant Church


Armenians came into contact with Protestantism in the nineteenth
century. American and British missionaries had the Bible (distributed
since 1811) printed in Classical Armenian, in vernacular and Armeno-
Turkish (Turkish written with Armenian characters). Initially, the Arme-
nian Church welcomed this dissemination of the Holy Scriptures, but
soon they discovered dogmatic differences in the Bible printed by the
missionaries. When American missionaries started winning converts, the
Armenian Church elected the anti-Protestant Hagopos Seropian to the
patriarchal throne. Free education was the real weapon in the hands of
the missionaries. The Apostolic Armenian Church fought back by opening
many schools and excommunicated some converts. However, the ambas-
sadors of Prussia, the USA and Great Britain supported the spread of
Protestantism, up to when the intercession of the British ambassador
2 ARMENIANS IN THE OTTOMAN EMPIRE … 37

helped to establish a separate millet for the Evangelical Armenians in


1847 (Barsoumian 1997: 187–188).

The Armenian Millet Under Attack


Although Armenians lived scattered in the Ottoman Empire, from the
Balkans to Egypt, they were concentrated in Western Armenia and Cilicia.
According to the Ottoman census of 1844, of the 2,400,000 Arme-
nians living in the Empire, some 350,000 lived in urban centres in Asia
Minor and 300,000 in Constantinople, where there were more Arme-
nians than “in any city on the Armenian plateau” (Hovannisian 1997b:
204). Armenians kept under their control most of the handicraft produc-
tion in the urban centres of Western Armenia and Cilicia, and craftsmen
were organized into guilds. However, handicrafts had been in decline
since the eighteenth century, an economic deterioration that affected
provincial Armenian society. The patriarchs were often asked to intercede
to protect native crafts from foreign competition. But when Armenians
employed modern machines, the Ottoman government taxed them more
(Barsoumian 1997: 191–195).
The majority of Armenians lived in rural areas. As the Ottoman state
was a military-feudal regime, peasantry (including Armenians) bore the
burden of the system. The Armenian rural population was polled and
subjected to exceptionally heavy taxes to help cover war expenditures.
Taxes were collected through a tax-farming system, whereby the highest
bidder acquired the right to collect taxes in a given province. From
here came abuses. Armenian peasants paid additional taxes to Turkish
or Kurdish aghas (feudal lords). Most Armenian peasants lost their land
to Turks or Kurds. Most landless Armenian peasants then worked for
their landowners, while sharecropping turned into serfdom. They were at
times denied political rights, even called raya (originally, “subject”—later
acquiring the derogatory meaning of “cattle”) or “infidel” (Barsoumian
1997: 191–195).
Even if the Tanzimat (reorganization) reforms3 had changed the
structure of the Empire, they did little to improve the conditions of its
subjects in the provinces. In religiously mixed areas, the reforms created

3 Reforms promulgated in the Ottoman Empire between 1839 and 1876, under sultans
Abdul Hamid I and Abdul Aziz, meant to change the old state-system based on theocratic
principles to a modern-state one (Davison 1954).
38 M. MOLLICA AND A. HAKOBYAN

conflict (Barsoumian 1997: 199). It was indeed from the quest for rights
and reform that what was called “the Armenian Question” came to the
fore, as did the first Armenian political parties. In 1885, The Armenakan
Society was founded in Van (Hovannisian 1997b: 203); in 1887, the
Social Democrat Hunchakian Party was founded by a group of students
in Geneva; in 1890, the Armenian Revolutionary Federation (ARF), also
known as Dashnaktsutyun (or, in a short form, as Dashnak), was founded
in Tiflis (Tbilisi) (Hovannisian 1997b: 212–218).

The Armenian Question and State


Demographic Engineering
The eastern provinces of the Ottoman Empire were places of substan-
tial religious coexistence among Muslims—Sunni and Alevi—and Chris-
tians—Armenian, Church of the East and Syrian Orthodox. On a regional
level, the Russo-Turkish War of 1877–1878, and even more the loss of
Kars, Ardahan and Batumi to Russia, had left bad blood between Chris-
tians and Muslims, especially refugees. The following Treaty of Berlin
(13 July 1878) had made the eastern provinces a serious concern by
calling for reforms under British supervision; according to the San Stefano
Treaty of 3 March 1878, this was the historical Armenian homeland—the
“Armenia” or “Armenian populated” vilayets (provinces).
For Ottoman Armenians, “The Armenian Question” arose as a secu-
rity concern in their homeland in March 1878, after the conclusion of the
Russo-Turkish War (1877–1878). Indeed, the main point in the Treaty
of Berlin was to guarantee the security of Armenians from Circassians
and Kurds (Dadrian 1995: 106). However, on a local level, the conflicts
between Armenian peasants and Kurdish complicated the picture. Here,
politics were determined by four actors: Ottoman government agents;
Turkish notables in the towns; beys of the nomadic Kurdish tribes; and
Armenians. An added complication was that the demography and the
administrative divisions of the Armenian provinces had become a political
tool for the Ottoman government (Kevorkian 2011: 266).
As Raymond Kevorkian (2011: 266) suggests, from the day the Arme-
nian Question was posed (1878), the administrative division of the
Armenian vilayets and the Armenian demographic weight in the overall
Ottoman population became a political issue, and was treated as such
by Sultan Abdul Hamid II. The Sultan began to change the adminis-
trative divisions. Ottoman authorities began systematically to falsify the
2 ARMENIANS IN THE OTTOMAN EMPIRE … 39

censuses to demonstrate that there was no Armenian Question because


the Armenians were only a tiny minority. They redrew the administra-
tive boundaries of the Armenian vilayets to make it difficult to assess
population data.
The Ottomans had used Kurdish nomadic tribes in their military
campaigns. During the Ottoman-Persian wars in the sixteenth and seven-
teenth centuries, Sunni Kurds were employed to police Armenian popu-
lated zones and their borderlands against Shia’s Iran (Adonz 1920). Due
to Ottoman support, many Kurdish tribal leaders had become powerful
in the eastern part of the Empire, including historical Armenian regions.
Traditionally, Kurds lived in the mountains, while Armenians worked the
agricultural plains. The former often exploited the latter. In the words
of Ronald Grigor Suny, “When a Kurdish tribal leader killed a Christian
‘owned’ by another lord, the lord killed two Christians of the tribal leader
in revenge […] Such revenge killings were sanctioned by custom and the
Quran (2: 178)” (Suny 2015: 14–15).
In the late seventeenth century, when the Ottomans started losing
lands in Europe, they forced the sedentism of nomads (here Kurds; in
Cilicia and Antioch, Turkmens) in their borderlands. In the nineteenth
century, a settlement programme of nomads followed the Balkan losses
(Suny 2015: 13–16). As a result, “eastern Anatolia had become both
ethnically more diverse and the site of a bitter, often ferocious contest for
land and power that pitted Kurds and Turks against Armenians, Assyrians,
and Greeks” (Suny 2015: 16).
The Ottoman government used also other tools to change the demog-
raphy of Anatolia, including relocating in Armenian areas Muslim refugees
from Caucasia or the Balkans. According to Suny (2015: 132), after
the Russian conquest of North Caucasia, thousands of Muslims moved
to the Ottoman Empire, where they were welcomed. Some, Suny goes
on to note (2015: 21), were relocated by the Ottomans in the eastern
provinces, and became known as Circassian (Cherkess, Chechen, Adyge,
Abkhaz, Kabardin, Avar), muhajir (Muslim newcomers, victims of a reli-
gious displacement). Later, when the Ottomans lost territories in the
Balkans, Balkan Muslims moved to Asia Minor, Cilicia and the eastern
provinces. Thus, when Ottoman authorities gave these muhajirs lands,
Armenians felt threatened, seeing them as being privileged by the state.
In 1879, the British Consul, Major Henry Trotter in Diyarbakır
reported on an early immigrant wave of Circassians (here, Cherkess and
other north Caucasia populations) in the following terms:
40 M. MOLLICA AND A. HAKOBYAN

It has been arranged to locate 4,000 Circassian families in this province:


most of the heads of the Christian communities have requested my assis-
tance to prevent this arrangement, which is most undesirable in the existing
unsettled state of the country […] A few days since […] it became known
here that the government contemplated settling in the Vilayet of Diarbekir
4,000 or 5,000 families of Circassian emigrants. The news created great
excitement, as the memories of the former Circassian immigration came to
mind, when 40,000 people passed through Diarbekir from the north on
their way to the settlement of Ras-el-Ain, causing great suffering to the
population of the country passed through, who had first to support them,
and then to suffer from their robberies and other depredations. (quoted in
Suny 2015: 21–22)

Suny suggests that in the eastern provinces of the Empire and Cilicia
the situation was complex and conflictual, as Armenian peasants competed
with Muslim refugees for land—the most desired and scarce resource. He
writes,

The pressure of new settlers favoured by local officials and courts pushed
Christian peasants to petition the government. The Armenian patriarchate
of Constantinople counted hundreds of cases of Muslim usurpation of
Armenian lands. The state most often supported Muslim claimants, and
many Armenians reluctantly moved to the towns or emigrated abroad,
further eroding their position in a contested landscape. (2015: 53–54)

On the eve of the First World War, the British Consul in Istanbul,
Gerald Henry Fitzmaurice, summed up the process of alienation of
Armenian lands in the east of the Empire. For Fitzmaurice,

[The Turkish Government] after the Treaty of Berlin [1878], realizing that
a sense of nationality cannot easily live without a peasantry, and that if it
succeeded in uprooting the Armenian peasantry from the soil and driving
them into the towns or out of the country, it would in great part rid itself
of the Armenians and the Armenian question, condoned and encouraged
Kurdish usurpation of Armenian lands. (quoted in Suny 2015: 56)

The situation in the eastern provinces had deteriorated even before


the start of the First World War, during the Balkan War (1912–1913),
following the arrival of Bosnian muhacirs , who fled the fighting in
the Balkans and settled in Armenian vilayets . These refugees’ feelings
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oído que en muchos otros distintos pasó lo mismo, que los hombres
reducidos al último trance y apuro, por más que hayan sido vencidos
vuelven a pelear desesperados, y procuran borrar la primera nota de
cobardes en que habían incurrido. De parecer sería que nosotros, que
apenas sin saber cómo nos hallamos con nuestra salvación y con e
bien de la Grecia en las manos, nos contentáramos por ahora con
haber ojeado esa bandada espesa de enemigos, sin darles caza en su
huida, pues no tanto hemos sido nosotros los que a tal hazaña hemos
dado cabo, como los dioses y los héroes, quienes no han podido ve
que un hombre solo, impío por demás y desalmado, viniese a se
señor del Asia y de Europa. Hablo de ese sacrílego, que todo, sagrado
y profano, lo llevaba por igual; de ese ateo que quemaba y echaba po
el suelo las estatuas de los dioses; de ese insensato que al mar mismo
mandó azotar y le arrojó unos grillos. Demos gracias a los dioses po
el bien que acaban de hacernos; quedemos por ahora en la Grecia
cuidemos de nuestros intereses y del bien de nuestras familias, vuelva
cada cual a levantar su casa y cuide de hacer su sementera, ya que
hemos logrado arrojar al bárbaro del todo. Al apuntar la primavera
entonces sí que será oportuno ir con una buena armada a volverle la
visita en el Helesponto y en la Jonia». Así se explicaba a fin de
prepararse albergue en los dominios del persa, donde pudiera
recogerse en caso de caer en la desgracia de sus atenienses, como
quien adivinaba lo que había de sucederle.
CX. Por más que en esto obrase Temístocles con doble intención
dejáronse con todo llevar de su discurso los atenienses, prontos a
deferir en todo a su dictamen, habiéndole tenido desde el principio po
hombre entendido, y experimentádole después por político hábil y
cuerdo en sus consejos. Disuadidos ya los suyos, sin pérdida de
tiempo envió en un batel a ciertos hombres, de quienes se prometía
que sabrían callar en medio de los mayores tormentos, para que de su
parte fuesen a decir al rey lo que les encargaba, uno de los cuales era
por la segunda vez aquel su doméstico Sicino.[338] Llegados al Ática
quedáronse los otros en su barco, y saltando a tierra Sicino, dijo as
hablando con el rey: «Vengo enviado de Temístocles, hijo de Neocles
general de los atenienses, y sujeto el más cumplido y cuerdo que se
halla entre los de aquella liga, para daros una embajada en estos
términos: “El ateniense Temístocles, con la mira de haceros un buen
servicio, ha logrado detener a los griegos para que no persigan a
vuestras escuadras como intentaban hacerlo, ni os corten el puente de
barcas en el Helesponto. Ahora vos podréis ya retiraros sin
precipitación alguna”». Dado este recado, volviéronse por el mismo
camino.
CXI. Los griegos de la armada naval, después de resolverse a no
pasar más adelante en seguimiento de la de los bárbaros, ni a avanza
con sus naves hasta el Helesponto para cortar a Jerjes la retirada
quedáronse sitiando la ciudad de Andros con ánimo de arruinarla. E
motivo era por haber los andrios sido los primeros de todos los isleños
que se habían negado a la contribución que Temístocles les pedía
mas como este les previniese que los atenienses les harían una visita
llevando consigo dos grandes divinidades, la una Pitos y la otra
Anankea, por cuyo medio se verían en la precisión de desembolsar su
dinero, diéronle los andrios por respuesta: «que con razón era Atenas
una ciudad grande, rica y dichosa, teniendo de su parte la protección
de aquellas buenas diosas, al paso que los pobres andrios eran
hombres de tan cortos alcances y tan desgraciados que no podían
echar de su isla a dos diosas que les irrogaban mucho daño, la Penía
y la Amecanía,[339] las cuales obstinadamente se empeñaban en vivi
en su país; que habiendo cabido a los andrios por su mala suerte
aquellas dos harto menguadas diosas, no pagarían contribución
alguna, pues no llegaría a ser tan grande el poder de los atenienses
que no fuese mayor su misma imposibilidad». Por esta respuesta que
dieron, no queriendo pagar ni un dinero, veíanse sitiados.
CXII. Entretanto, Temístocles, no cesando de buscar arbitrios
cómo hacer dinero, despachaba a las otras islas sus órdenes y
amenazas pidiéndoles se lo enviasen, valiéndose de los mismos
mensajeros y de las mismas razones de que se había valido antes con
los de Andros, y añadiendo que si no le daban lo que pedía, conduciría
contra ellas la armada de los griegos. Por este medio logró saca
grandes cantidades de los caristios y de los parios, quienes informados
así del asedio en que Andros se hallaba por haber seguido el partido
medo, como de la ilustrísima fama y reputación que entre los
generales tenía Temístocles, le contribuían con grandes sumas. S
hubo algunos otros más que también se las diesen, no puedo decirlo
de positivo, si bien me inclino a creer que otros más habría, y que no
serían los únicos los referidos. Diré, sí, que no por eso lograron los
caristios que no les alcanzase el rayo, si bien los parios, aplacando a
Temístocles con dádivas y dineros, se libraron del sitio en que e
ejército les tenía. Con esto, Temístocles, salido de Andros, iba
recogiendo dinero de los isleños a hurto de los demás generales.
CXIII. Las tropas que cerca de sí tenía Jerjes, dejando pasar unos
pocos días después de la batalla naval, dirigiéronse la vuelta de
Beocia por el mismo camino por donde habían venido. Así se hizo la
marcha, por parecerle a Mardonio que, además de deber con ellas
escoltar al rey, no era ya por otra parte tiempo de continuar la
campaña, sino que lo mejor sería invernar en la Tesalia, y a la
primavera siguiente invadir el Peloponeso. Llegados a la Tesalia, las
primeras tropas que para sí escogió Mardonio fueron todos aquellos
persas que llamaban los Inmortales, a excepción de su genera
Hidarnes, que se negó a dejar al rey. De entre los otros persas escogió
asimismo a los coraceros y aquel regimiento de los mil caballos. Tomó
asimismo para sí a los medos, los sacas, los bactrios y los indios, tanto
los de a pie como los de a caballo. Habiéndose quedado con todas
estas naciones, iba entresacando de entre los demás aliados unos
pocos, los mejor plantados que veía, y aquellos también de quienes
sabía haberse portado bien en alguna función. En esta gente escogida
el cuerpo más considerable era el de aquellos persas que llevaban su
collar y brazalete de oro; después el de los medos, no porque fuesen
menos que los persas, sino porque no les igualaban en el valor. En fin
la suma de las tropas subía a 300.000 entre peones y jinetes.
CXIV. Durante el tiempo en que iba Mardonio escogiendo la tropa
más gallarda del ejército, manteniéndose todavía Jerjes en la Tesalia
llegoles a los lacedemonios un oráculo de Delfos, que les mandaba
pidiesen a Jerjes satisfacción por la muerte de Leónidas, y recibiesen
la que él les diera. Los espartanos, sin más dilación, destinaron un rey
de armas,[340] quien habiendo hallado todo el ejército parado todavía en
Tesalia, se presentó al rey, y le dio la embajada: «A vos, rey de los
medos, piden los lacedemonios en común, y los Heráclidas de Esparta
en particular, que les deis la satisfacción correspondiente por haberles
vos muerto a su rey que defendía a la Grecia». Dio Jerjes una gran
carcajada, y después de un buen rato, apuntando con el dedo a
Mardonio, que estaba allí a su lado: «Mardonio, le dijo, les dará sin
duda alguna la satisfacción que les corresponda». Encargose e
enviado de dar aquella respuesta, y se volvió luego.
CXV. Marchó después Jerjes con mucha prisa la vuelta de
Helesponto, habiendo dejado a Mardonio en la Tesalia, y llegó al paso
de las barcas al cabo de cuarenta y cinco días, llevando consigo de su
ejército un puñado de gente tan solo, por decirlo así. Durante el viaje
entero, manteníase la tropa de los frutos que robaba a los moradores
del país sin distinción de naciones, y cuando no hallaban víveres
algunos, contentábanse con la hierba que la tierra naturalmente les
daba, con las cortezas quitadas a los árboles, y con las hojas que iban
cogiendo, ya fuesen ellos frutales, ya silvestres; que a todo les
obligaba el hambre, sin que dejasen de comer cosa que comerse
pudiera. De resultas de esto, iban acabando con el ejército la peste y
la disentería que le sobrevino. A los que caían enfermos dejábanlos en
las ciudades por donde pasaban, mandándolas que tuviesen cuidado
de curarlos y alimentarlos, habiendo asimismo dejado algunos en
Tesalia, otros en Siris de la Peonia, y otros en Macedonia finalmente
Antes en su paso hacia la Grecia había dejado el rey en Macedonia la
carroza sagrada de Zeus, y entonces de vuelta no la recobró: habíanla
los peonios dado a los de Tracia, y respondieron a Jerjes que por ella
pedía, que aquellos tiros, estando paciendo, habían sido robados po
los tracios, que moran vecinos a las fuentes del río Estrimón.
CXVI. Con esta ocasión diré en breve un hecho inhumano que e
rey de los bisaltas, de nación tracio,[341] ejecutó en la comarca
Crestonia. No solo este se había negado a prestar a Jerjes la
obediencia, retirándose por esta razón a lo más fragoso del monte
Ródope, sino que había prohibido a sus hijos que le sirvieran en
aquella jornada contra la Grecia. Pero ellos, o teniendo en poco la
prohibición, o quizá por curiosidad y deseo de hacer alguna campaña
fuéronse siguiendo las banderas del persa. Vueltos después buenos y
salvos, a todos ellos, que eran hasta seis, hízoles el padre sacar los
ojos por este motivo: tal paga sacaron los infelices de su expedición.
CXVII. Después que los persas, dejada la Tracia, llegaron al paso
del Helesponto, embarcados a toda prisa lo atravesaron hacia Abido
no pudiendo pasar por el puente de barcas, que ya no hallaron unidas
y firmes, sino sueltas y separadas por algún contratiempo. En los días
de descanso que allí tuvieron, como la copia de víveres que lograban
fuese mayor que la que en el camino habían tenido, comieron sin regla
ni moderación alguna, de cuyo desorden, y de la mudanza de aguas
resultó que muriera mucha gente del ejército que había quedado. Los
pocos que restaron, en compañía de Jerjes al cabo llegaron a Sardes.
CXVIII. Cuéntase también de otro modo esta retirada, a saber: que
después que Jerjes, salido de Atenas, llegó a la ciudad de Eyón
situada sobre el Estrimón, no continuó desde allí por tierra su marcha
sino que encargando a Hidarnes la conducción del ejército a
Helesponto, partió para el Asia embarcado en una nave fenicia
Estando, pues, en medio de su viaje, levantósele vehemente y
tempestuoso el viento llamado Estrimonio,[342] y fue tanto mayor e
peligro de la tormenta, cuanto más cargada y llena iba la nave, sobre
cuya cubierta venían muchos persas acompañando a Jerjes
Entonces, entrando el rey en gran miedo, llamando en alta voz a
piloto, preguntole si les quedaba alguna esperanza de vida. «Una sola
queda, señor, díjole el piloto; el ver cómo podremos deshacernos de
tanto pasajero como aquí viene». Oído esto, pretenden que dijese
Jerjes: «Persas míos, esta es la ocasión en que alguno de vosotros
muestre si se interesa o no por su rey; que en vuestra mano, según
parece, está mi salud y vida». Apenas hubo hablado, cuando los
persas, hecha al soberano una profunda inclinación, saltaron por s
mismos al agua, con lo que, aligerada la nave, pudo llegar al Asia a
salvamento. Allí, saltando Jerjes en tierra, dicen que ejecutó al punto
una de sus justicias, pues premió con una corona de oro al piloto po
haber salvado la vida del rey, y le mandó cortar la cabeza por habe
perdido a tanto persa.
CXIX. Pero a mí por lo menos no se me hace digna de fe esta otra
narración de la vuelta de Jerjes, prescindiendo de otros motivos, por lo
que se dice en ella acerca de la desventura de los persas; porque
dado caso que el piloto hubiera dicho aquello a Jerjes, me atrevo a
apostar que entre diez mil hombres no habrá uno solo que conmigo no
convenga en que el rey en tal caso hubiera dicho que aquellos
pasajeros que estaban sobre la cubierta, mayormente siendo persas, y
primeros personajes entre los persas, se bajasen a la parte cóncava
del buque, y que los remeros fenicios, tantos en número cuantos eran
los persas, fuesen arrojados al mar. Lo cierto es que el rey volvió a
Asia, marchando por tierra con lo demás del ejército, como llevo
referido.
CXX. Otra prueba vehemente hay de lo que digo; pues consta que
en su retirada pasó Jerjes por Abdera, y asentó con los de aquella
ciudad un concierto de hospedaje, y les hizo el regalo de un alfanje de
oro y de una tiara bordada en oro. Algo más añaden los abderitas
aunque yo no los crea en ello de ningún modo, que allí fue donde la
vez primera se desciñó Jerjes la espada después de la huida de
Atenas, como quien no tenía ya que temer. Lo cierto es que Abdera
está situada más cerca del Helesponto que el Estrimón y Eyón, de
donde pretenden los autores de la otra narración que saliese el rey de
su galera.
CXXI. Los griegos de la armada, viendo que no podían rendir a
Andros, pasaron a Caristo, y talada la campiña, partiéronse para
Salamina. Lo primero que aquí hicieron fue entresacar del botín as
varias ofrendas que como primicias destinaban a los dioses, como
particularmente tres galeras fenicias, una para dedicarla en el Istmo, la
que hasta mis días se mantenía en el mismo punto, otra para Sunio, y
la tercera para Áyax en la misma Salamina. En segundo lugar
repartiéronse el botín, enviando a Delfos las primicias de los despojos
de cuyo precio se hizo una gran estatua de doce codos, que tiene en la
mano un espolón de galera, y está levantada cerca del lugar donde se
halla la de Alejandro el Macedonio, que es de oro.
CXXII. Al tiempo mismo que enviaron los griegos aquellas
primicias a Delfos, hicieron preguntar a Apolo en nombre de todos si le
parecían bien cumplidas aquellas primicias y si eran de su agrado, a lo
cual el dios respondió que lo eran en verdad por lo que miraba a los
demás griegos, mas no así respecto de los eginetas, de quienes é
pedía y echaba menos un don en acción de gracias por haberse
llevado la palma en Salamina. Con dicha respuesta ofreciéronle los
eginetas unas estrellas de oro, que son aquellas tres que sobre un
mástil de bronce se ven cerca de la copa de Creso.
CXXIII. Hecha la repartición de la presa, tomaron los griegos su
rumbo hacia el Istmo para dar la palma de la victoria al griego que más
se hubiese señalado en aquella guerra.[343] Llegados allá los generales
de la armada naval, fueron dejando sus votos por escrito encima de
ara de Poseidón, en los cuales declaraban su parecer sobre quién
merecía el primero y quién el segundo premio. Cada uno de los
generales dábase allí el voto a sí mismo, como al que mejor se había
portado en la batalla; pero muchos concordaban en que a Temístocles
se le debía en segundo lugar aquella victoria; de suerte que no
llevando nadie sino un solo voto, y este el propio suyo, para el prime
premio, Temístocles para el segundo era en la votación superior en
mucho a los demás.
CXXIV. De aquí nació que no queriendo los griegos, por espíritu
de partido y de envidia, definir aquella contienda, antes marchando
todos a sus respectivas ciudades sin decidir la causa, el nombre de
Temístocles, sin embargo, iba en boca de todos, glorioso y celebrado
en toda la nación por el varón más sabio de los griegos. Mas viendo
que no había sido declarado vencedor por los generales que dieron la
batalla en Salamina, fuese sin perder tiempo a Lacedemonia
pretendiendo aquel honor.[344] Hiciéronle los lacedemonios muy buen
recibimiento, y le honraron con mucha particularidad. Dieron a
Euribíades la prerrogativa en el valor con una corona de olivo, y a
Temístocles asimismo con otra corona igual la prerrogativa y destreza
política. Regaláronle una carroza la más bella de Esparta, colmándole
de elogios, e hicieron que al irse le acompañasen hasta los confines de
Tegea 300 espartanos escogidos, que son los llamados allí caballeros
habiendo sido Temístocles el único, al menos que yo sepa, a quien en
señal de estima hayan acompañado hasta ahora los espartanos con
escolta.
CXXV. Vuelto Temístocles de Lacedemonia a Atenas, un ta
Timodemo Afidneo, uno de sus enemigos, hombre por otra parte de
ninguna fama y lustre, muerto de envidia, dábale allí en rostro con e
viaje a Lacedemonia, achacándole que en atención a Atenas y no a su
persona había llevado aquella honra y premio. Viendo Temístocles que
siempre Timodemo le acosaba con aquella injuria, díjole al cabo: «Oye
detractor, ni yo siendo belbinita[345] como tú hubiera sido honrado as
por los espartanos, ni tú, amigo, lo serías, por más que fueras como yo
ateniense. Pero basta ya de ello».
CXXVI. Iba escoltando al rey hasta el paso del Helesponto el hijo
de Farnaces, Artabazo, quien siendo antes ya entre los persas un
general de fama, vino a tenerla mayor después de la batalla de Platea
al frente de un cuerpo de 60.000 hombres tomados del ejército que
Mardonio había escogido. Mas como el rey estuviese ya en el Asia, y
Artabazo de vuelta se hallase en Palene,[346] no corriendo prisa alguna
el ir a incorporarse con el grueso del ejército, por invernar las tropas de
Mardonio en Tesalia y en Macedonia, pareciole que no era razón deja
de rendir y esclavizar a los de Potidea, a quienes halló que se habían
rebelado contra el rey. Y en efecto, los potideos se habían alzado
declaradamente contra los bárbaros, luego que el rey, huyendo de
Salamina, acabó de pasar por su ciudad, y a su ejemplo muchos otros
pueblos de Palene habían hecho lo mismo. Con esto Artabazo puso
sitio a Potidea.
CXXVII. Y sospechando al mismo tiempo que también los olintios
se apartaban de la obediencia del persa, vino sobre aquella ciudad
cuyos moradores eran entonces los botieos,[347] quienes habían sido
echados por los macedonios del golfo Termaico. A estos olintios
después que apretando el sitio logró rendir la plaza, Farnabazo
sacándolos fuera de ella, los degolló sobre una laguna. Entregó la
ciudad a Critobulo de Torone para que la gobernase, y a los de
Calcídica[348] para que la poblasen, y con esto vino a ser Olinto una
colonia de calcideos.
CXXVIII. Artabazo, dueño ya de Olinto, pensó en apretar con más
ahínco a Potidea, y andando el sitio con más viveza, Timoxeno
comandante de los escioneos,[349] concertó entregársela a traición. De
qué medios se valiese al principio de esta inteligencia no puedo
decirlo, porque nadie veo que lo diga: el éxito de ella fue el siguiente
Siempre que querían darse por escrito algún aviso, o Timoxeno a
Artabazo, o bien este a Timoxeno, lo que hacían era envolver la carta
en la cola de la saeta junto a su muesca, pero de manera que viniese a
formar como las alas de la misma, y así la disparaban al puesto entre
ellos convenido. Pero por este medio mismo se descubrió que andaba
Timoxeno en la traición de Potidea; porque como disparase Artabazo
su saeta hacia el sitio consabido, y no acertase a ponerla en él, hirió
en el hombro a un ciudadano de Potidea. Apenas estuvo herido
cuando corrieron muchos hacia él y le rodearon, como suele sucede
en la guerra, los cuales, cogida la saeta, como reparasen en la carta
envuelta, fueron luego a presentarla a los comandantes. Hallábanse en
la plaza las tropas auxiliares de los demás paleneos, y cuando
aquellos jefes, leída la carta, vieron quién era el autor de la traición
parecioles, en atención a la ciudad de los escioneos, que no convenía
públicamente complicar a Timoxeno en aquella perfidia, para que en lo
venidero no quedase a los escioneos la mancha perpetua de traidores
Tal fue el extraño modo de averiguar al traidor.
CXXIX. Al cabo de tres meses del sitio puesto por Artabazo, hizo
el mar una retirada extraordinaria, que duró bastante tiempo. Entonces
los bárbaros, viendo que lo que antes era mar se les había hecho un
lugar pantanoso, marcharon por él hacia Palene; pero apenas hubieron
andado dos partes de trecho, de las cinco que pasar debían para
meterse dentro de dicha ciudad, sobrecogioles una avenida tan grande
de mar, cual nunca antes, a lo que decían los naturales, había all
sucedido, por más frecuentes que suelan ser tales mareas. Sucedió en
ella que se anegaron los persas que no sabían nadar, y los que sabían
perecieron a manos de los de Potidea, que en sus barcas les
acometieron. Pretenden los potideos haber sido la causa de la retirada
y avenida del mar y de la desventura de los persas la impiedad de
todos los que en él perecieron, quienes habían profanado el templo y
la estatua de Poseidón, que estaba en los arrabales de su ciudad
Paréceme que tienen aquellos mucha razón en decir que esta fue la
culpa para un tal castigo. Partió Artabazo a la Tesalia con los persas
que le quedaron para unirse con Mardonio. Tal fue en compendio la
suerte de los persas que escoltaron a su rey.
CXXX. La armada naval, que salva había quedado al rey después
de haber pasado desde el Quersoneso hacia Abido a Jerjes, recién
llegado al Asia y fugitivo de Salamina, y juntamente con él a lo demás
del ejército, fuese a invernar en Cime.[350] En los principios mismos de
la próxima primavera reuniose de nuevo en Samos, donde algunas
naves de ella habían pasado aquel invierno. La tropa de mar que en
dicha armada servía era por lo común compuesta de persas y de
medos, de cuyo mando fueron de nuevo encargados los generales
Mardontes, hijo de Bageo, y Artaíntes, hijo de Artaqueas, en cuya
compañía mandaba también Itamitres, a quien Artaíntes, siendo su
primo, se había asociado en el empleo. Hallándose muy amedrentada
la armada dicha, no se pensó en que se alargase más hacia poniente
mayormente no habiendo cosa que a ello le obligase, sino que po
entonces los bárbaros apostados en Samos se contentaban con cubri
a la Jonia, impidiendo con las 300 naves que allí tenían, incluidas en
este número las jonias, que se les rebelase aquella provincia; n
pensaban, por otra parte, que hubiesen los griegos de pretender veni
hasta la Jonia misma, sino que contentos y satisfechos con poderse
quedar en sus aguas, se mantendrían en ellas para la defensa y
resguardo de su patria. Confirmábales en esta opinión el reflexiona
que, al huir de Salamina, no les habían seguido los alcances, antes
bien, de su propia voluntad se habían vuelto atrás desde su camino
En realidad, caídos de ánimo sobremanera los bárbaros, dábanse po
vencidos en la mar, pero tenían por seguro que su Mardonio por tierra
sería muy superior a los griegos. Con esto a los persas en Samos todo
se les iba, parte en meditar cómo podrían hacer algún daño a
enemigo, parte en procurar noticias sobre el éxito de las empresas de
Mardonio.
CXXXI. Mas los griegos, a quienes tenía muy agitados así el ve
que se acercaba ya la primavera, como el saber que Mardonio se
hallaba en Tesalia, antes de congregar su ejército de tierra tenían
reunida ya en Egina la armada naval, compuesta de 110 galeras. Iba
en esta por almirante y general de las tropas Leotíquidas, hijo de
Ménares, cuyos ascendientes eran Hegesilao, Hipocrátidas
Leotíquidas, Anaxilao, Arquidamo, Anaxándridas, Teopompo
Nicandro, Carilao, Éunomo, Polidectas, Prítanis, Eurifonte, Procles
Aristodemo, Aristómaco, Cleodeo, Hilo, Heracles. Era, pues, dicho
almirante de una de las dos casas reales cuyos antepasados, a
excepción de los dos nombrados inmediatamente después de
Leotíquidas, habían sido reyes en Esparta.[351] De los atenienses iba
por general Jantipo, hijo de Arifrón.
CXXXII. Juntas ya en Egina las naves todas, llegaron a dicha
armada griega unos mensajeros de la Jonia, los mismos que poco
antes, idos a Esparta, habían suplicado a los lacedemonios que
pusiesen a los jonios en libertad: entre estos embajadores venía uno
llamado Heródoto, que era hijo de Basileides. Eran estos unos
hombres que, conjurados en número de siete contra Estratis, señor de
Quíos, le habían antes maquinado la muerte; pero como uno de los
siete cómplices hubiese dado parte al tirano de sus intentos, los seis
ya descubiertos, escapándose secretamente de Quíos, habían pasado
en derechura a Esparta y de allí a Egina, con la mira de pedir a los
griegos que con sus naves desembarcasen en la Jonia, bien que con
mucha dificultad pudieron lograr de ellos que avanzasen hasta Delos
En efecto, de Delos adelante todo se les hacía un caos de dificultades
así por no ser los griegos prácticos en aquellos parajes, como po
parecerles que hervían todos ellos en gentes de armas, y lo que es
más, por estar en la inteligencia de que tan lejos se hallaban de Samos
como de las columnas de Heracles:[352] de suerte que concurrían en
ello dos obstáculos; el uno de parte de los bárbaros, quienes por e
horror que a los griegos habían cobrado no se atrevían a navega
hacia poniente; el otro de parte de los griegos, que ni a instancias de
los de Quíos osaban de puro miedo bajar de Delos hacia levante. As
que puesto de por medio el mutuo temor, a entrambos servía de
pertrecho.
CXXXIII. Habían ya los griegos, como decía, pasado hasta Delos
cuando todavía Mardonio se mantenía en Tesalia en sus cuarteles de
invierno. Durante el tiempo que en ellos estuvo este, hizo que un
hombre natural de Europo,[353] por nombre Mis, partiese a visitar los
oráculos, dándole orden de que no dejase lugar donde pudiese
consultarles y que observase lo que le respondieran. Qué secreto
fuese el que Mardonio con tales diligencias pretendía penetrar, yo
ciertamente, no hallando quien me lo declare, no sabré decirlo
únicamente formo el concepto de que no tendría otra mira sino el buen
éxito de su empresa, sin cuidarse de averiguar otras curiosidades.
CXXXIV. De este Mis se tiene por cosa sabida que, habiendo ido a
Lebadea[354] y sobornado a uno del país, logró bajar al oráculo de
Trofonio, como también que llegó a Abas, santuario de los focidios
para hacer allí su consulta. El mismo, habiendo pasado a Tebas en su
primera romería, practicó dos diligencias, pues por una parte había
consultado a Apolo Ismenio, el cual por medio de las víctimas suele
ser consultado del mismo modo que se usa en Olimpia, y por otra con
sus dádivas había obtenido, no de algún tebano, pero sí de un
extranjero, el que quisiera dormir en el templo de Anfiarao,[355] pues
sabido es que generalmente a ninguno de los tebanos le es lícito e
pedir oráculo alguno en dicho templo. La causa procede de haberles
hecho saber Anfiarao por medio de sus oráculos, que daba opción a
los tebanos para que escogieran, o valerse de él como de adivino, o de
aliado y protector solamente: prefirieron ellos, pues, tenerle por aliado
que por profeta, de donde está prohibido a todo tebano el irse a dormi
en aquel santuario para recibir entre sueños algún oráculo de Anfiarao
CXXXV. Pero lo que mayor maravilla en mí despierta es lo que de
este Mis europense añaden los de Tebas, de quien dicen que
andando todos estos santuarios de los oráculos, fue también al templo
de Apolo el Ptoo. Este templo con el nombre de Ptoo está en e
dominio de los tebanos, situado sobre la laguna Copaide,[356] en un
monte muy vecino a la ciudad de Acrefia. Cuentan, pues, los tebanos
que llegado al templo nuestro peregrino Mis en compañía de tres de
sus ciudadanos, a quienes había nombrado el público a fin de que
tomasen por escrito la respuesta que el oráculo les diera, la persona
que allí vaticinaba púsose de repente a profetizar en una lengua
bárbara. Al oír los tebanos compañeros de Mis un dialecto bárbaro en
vez del griego, no sabían qué hacerse llenos de pasmo y de confusión
cuando el europense Mis, arrebatándoles de las manos el libro de
memoria que consigo traían, fue en él escribiendo las palabras que en
la lengua bárbara iba profiriendo el profeta, la cual, según ellos dicen
era caria; y que apenas las hubo escrito cuando a toda prisa partió
hacia Mardonio.
CXXXVI. Leyó este, pues, lo que los oráculos le decían, y de
resultas envió por embajador a Atenas al rey de Macedonia Alejandro
hijo de Amintas. Dos eran los motivos que a este nombramiento le
inducían: uno el parentesco que tenían los persas con Alejandro, con
cuya hermana Gigea, hija asimismo de Amintas, había casado un
señor persa llamado Búbares, y tenía en ella un hijo llamado Amintas
con el nombre de su abuelo materno, quien habiendo recibido del rey
el feudo de Alabanda,[357] ciudad grande de la Frigia, poseía en Asia
sus estados: otro motivo de aquella elección había sido el sabe
Mardonio que por tener Alejandro contraído con los atenienses un
tratado de amistad y hospedaje, era su buen amigo y favorecedor. Po
este medio pensó Mardonio que le sería más hacedero el atraer a su
partido a los atenienses, cosa que mucho deseaba, oyendo decir po
una parte cuán populosa era Atenas y cuán valiente en la guerra, y
constándole muy bien por otra que los atenienses habían sido los que
por mar habían muy particularmente destrozado la armada persa
Esperaba, pues, que bien fácil le sería, como ellos se le unieran, el se
por mar superior a la Grecia, cual sin duda en tal caso lo fuera, y no
dudando, por otro lado, de que sus fuerzas por tierra eran ya por s
solas mucho mayores; de donde concluía Mardonio que su ejército con
los nuevos aliados vendría a superar las fuerzas de los griegos: ni me
parece fuera temerario el sospechar que esta era la prevención de los
oráculos, quienes debían de aconsejarle que procurase aliarse con
Atenas, y que por este motivo enviaba a esta ciudad su embajador.
CXXXVII. Para dar a conocer quién era Alejandro, voy a decir en
este lugar cómo llegó por un singular camino a obtener el dominio de
Macedonia un cierto Pérdicas, el séptimo entre sus ascendientes
Hubo tres hermanos, así llamados Gavanes, Aéropo y Pérdicas
naturales de Argos y de la familia de Témeno; los cuales, fugitivos de
su patria, pasaron primero a los ilirios, desde donde internándose en la
alta Macedonia llegaron a una ciudad por nombre Lebea.[358
Concertando allí su salario, acomodáronse con el rey, el uno para
apacentar sus yeguas, el otro los bueyes, y el tercero el ganado
menor: y como es cosa muy sabida que en aquellos antiguos tiempos
muy poco o nada reinaba el lujo y la opulencia en las casas de los
reyes, cuanto menos en las particulares, nadie deberá extrañar que la
reina misma fuese la que allí cocía el pan en la casa del rey. Estando
pues, en su faena la real panadera, cuantas veces cocía el pan para
su criado y mozuelo Pérdicas, levantábasele tanto el horno que venía
a salir doblemente mayor de lo que correspondía. Como observase
pues, atendiendo a ello con más cuidado, siempre cabalmente lo
mismo, fuese a dar aviso a su marido, a quien luego pareció que se
descubría en aquello algún agüero que algo significaba de prodigioso y
grande, y sin más tardanza hace venir a sus criados y les intima que
salgan de sus dominios. Que estaban prontos, responden ellos; pero
querían, como era justo, llevar antes su salario. Al oír el rey lo de
salario, fuera de sí, por disposición particular de los dioses, y tomando
ocasión del sol que se le entraba entonces en la casa por la misma
chimenea, respondioles así: «El salario que se os debe y que pienso
daros no será sino el que ahí veis»; lo cual dijo señalando con la mano
al sol de la chimenea. Oída tal respuesta, quedaron atónitos los dos
hermanos mayores Gavanes y Aéropo, pero el menor: «Sí, le dice
aceptamos, señor, ese salario que nos ofrecéis». Dicho esto, hizo con
un cuchillo que tenía allí casualmente una raya en el pavimento de la
casa alrededor del sol, y haciendo el ademán de coger tres puñados
de aquella luz encerrada en la raya, se los iba metiendo en el seno
como quien mete el dinero en su bolsillo, hecho lo cual se fue de allí en
compañía de sus hermanos.
CXXXVIII. Uno de los presentes que estaban allí sentados con e
rey le dio cuenta de lo que acababa de hacer aquel muchacho
diciéndole cómo el menor de los hermanos, no sin misterio y quizá con
dañada intención, había aceptado la paga que él les había prometido
Apenas lo oyó el rey, que no lo habría antes advertido, despachó lleno
de cólera unos hombres a caballo con orden de dar la muerte a uno de
sus criados. Pero en tanto quiso Dios que cierto río que por allí corre
río al cual, como a su dios salvador, suelen hacer sacrificios los
descendientes de los tres citados argivos, al acabar de pasarle los
Teménidas comenzase a venir tan crecido que no pudieran vadearle
los que venían a caballo. Yéndose, pues, los Teménidas a otro país de
la Macedonia, fijaron su habitación cerca de aquella huerta que se dice
haber sido la de Midas, hijo de Gordias,[359] en la que se crían ciertas
rosas de sesenta hojas cada una, de un color y fragancia superior a
todas las demás, y añaden aún los macedonios que en dicha huerta
fue donde quedó cogido y preso Sileno: sobre ella está el monte que
llaman Bermio, el cual de puro frío es inaccesible. En suma
apoderados de esta región los tres hermanos y haciéndose fuertes en
ella, desde allí lograron ir conquistando después lo restante de la
Macedonia.
CXXXIX. Del referido Pérdicas descendía, pues, nuestro
embajador Alejandro, por la siguiente sucesión de genealogía
Alejandro era hijo de Amintas; Amintas lo fue de Alcetas, quien tuvo
por padre a Aéropo; este a Filipo, Filipo a Argeo, y Argeo a Pérdicas
fundador de la monarquía. He aquí toda la ascendencia de Alejandro
el hijo de Amintas.
CXL. Llegado ya a Atenas el enviado de Mardonio, hízoles este
discurso: «Amigos atenienses, mandome Mardonio daros de su parte
esta embajada formal: “a mí, dice, me vino una orden de mi soberano
concebida en estos términos: ‘Vengo en perdonar a los atenienses
todas las injurias que de ellos he recibido. Lo que vos, oh Mardonio
haréis ahora es lo siguiente: os mando lo primero que les restituyáis
todas sus propiedades; lo segundo quiero que les acrecentéis sus
dominios dándoles las provincias que quieran ellos escoger
quedándose, sin embargo, independientes con todos sus fueros y
libertad; lo tercero os ordeno que a costa de mi erario les reedifiquéis
todos los templos que les mandé abrasar:[360] todo ello con la sola
condición de que quieran ser mis confederados’. Recibidas estas
órdenes, continúa Mardonio, me es del todo necesario procurarlas
ejecutar al pie de la letra, como vosotros no me lo estorbéis; y para
conformarme con ellas, pregúntoos ahora: ¿qué tenacidad es la
vuestra, atenienses, en querer ir contra mi soberano? ¿No veis que n
en la presente guerra podéis serle superiores, ni en el porvenir seréis
capaces de mantenérsela siempre? ¿No sabéis el número, el valor y
hazañas de las tropas de Jerjes? ¿No oís decir cuántas son las
fuerzas que conmigo tengo? ¿Es posible que no deis en la cuenta que
aun cuando en la actual contienda me fuerais superiores, de lo que no
veo cómo podáis lisonjearos a no haber renunciado al sentido común
ha de venir con todo a acometeros otro nuevo ejército más numeroso
todavía? ¿Por qué, pues, querer hombrear tanto en competencia de
rey, que os halléis sin poder dejar un instante las armas de las manos
y con la muerte siempre delante de los ojos, expuestos de continuo a
perderos por vuestro capricho y a perder juntamente vuestra
república? Haced la paz, ya que podéis hacerla muy ventajosa, cuando
os convida con ella el rey mismo, y quedaos libres e independientes
unidos con nosotros sin doblez ni engaño en una liga defensiva y
ofensiva.” Esto es formalmente, oh atenienses, prosiguió diciendo
Alejandro, lo que de su parte mandome deciros Mardonio: yo de la mía
ni una sola palabra quiero deciros por lo tocante al amor y buena ley
que os he profesado siempre; pues no es esta la primera ocasión en
que habréis podido conocerlo. Quiero sí únicamente añadiros de mío
una súplica, y es que viendo vosotros no ser tantas vuestras fuerzas
que podáis sostener contra Jerjes una perpetua guerra, condescendáis
ahora con las proposiciones de Mardonio. Esto os lo suplico
protestando al mismo tiempo que si viera yo en mis atenienses tanto
poderío como indicaba necesario, nunca me encargara de embajada
semejante. Pero, amigos, el poder del rey parece más que humano
tanto que no veo a donde no alcance su brazo. Si vosotros, por otra
parte, mayormente ahora cuando se os presentan partidos tan
ventajosos, no hacéis las paces con quien tan de veras os las propone
me lleno de horror, atenienses, solo con imaginar el desastre que os
aguarda, viendo que vosotros sois los que entre todos los
confederados estáis más al alcance del enemigo, y más a tiro de su
furor, expuestos siempre a sufrir solos sus primeras descargas para
ser las primeras víctimas de su venganza, viviendo en un país que
parece criado para ser el teatro de Ares. No más guerra, atenienses
creedme a mí, ciertos de que no es sino un honor muy particular el que
el rey os hace, no solo en querer perdonaros los agravios, mas aun en
escogeros a vosotros entre los demás griegos para ser sus amigos y
aliados». Así habló Alejandro.
CXLI. Apenas supieron los lacedemonios que iba a Atenas el rey
Alejandro encargado de atraer a los atenienses a la paz y alianza con
el bárbaro, acordáronse con esta ocasión de lo que ciertos oráculos les
habían avisado ser cosa decretada por los hados, que ellos con los
demás dóricos fuesen arrojados algún día del Peloponeso por los
medos y los atenienses;[361] recuerdo que les hizo entrar luego en
grandísimo recelo acerca de la unión de los de Atenas con el persa, y
enviar allá con toda diligencia sus embajadores para que viesen de
estorbar la liga. Llegaron estos, en efecto, tan a tiempo y sazón, que
una misma fue la asamblea que se les dio públicamente, y la que se
dio a Alejandro para la declaración de la embajada. Verdad es que
muy de propósito diferían los atenienses la audiencia pública de
Alejandro, creídos y seguros de que llegaría a oídos de los
lacedemonios la venida de un embajador a solicitarles de parte de
bárbaro para la alianza, y que oída tal nueva habían de enviarlos a
toda prisa mensajeros que procurasen impedirlo. Dispusiéronlo adrede
los atenienses, queriendo hacer alarde en presencia de los enviados
de su manera de obrar en el asunto.
CXLII. Luego, pues, que Alejandro dio fin a su discurso, tomando
la palabra los embajadores de Esparta dieron principio al suyo
«También venimos nosotros, oh atenienses, a haceros nuestra petición
de parte de los lacedemonios: redúcese a suplicaros que ni deis oído a
las proposiciones del bárbaro, ni queráis hacer la menor novedad en e
sistema de la Grecia. Esto de ningún modo lo sufre la justicia misma
esto el honor de los griegos no os lo permite; esto con mucha
particularidad vuestro mismo decoro os lo prohíbe. Muchos son los
motivos que para no hacerlo tenéis: el haber vosotros mismos sin
nuestro consentimiento ocasionado la presente guerra; el haber sido
desde el principio vuestra ciudad el blanco de toda ella; el serlo ahora
ya por vuestra causa la Grecia toda. Y dejados aparte todos estos
motivos, fuera sin duda cosa insufrible que vosotros, atenienses
habiéndoos preciado siempre de ser los mayores defensores de la
ajena independencia y libertad, fuerais al presente los principales
autores de la dependencia y esclavitud de los griegos. A nosotros
amigos atenienses, nos tiene penetrados de compasión esa vuestra
desventura, cuando os vemos ya por la segunda vez privados de
vuestra cosechas y por tanto tiempo fuera de vuestras casas
despojadas, abrasadas y arruinadas por el bárbaro que os halaga
Pero os hacemos saber ahora que para alivio de tanta calamidad los
lacedemonios con los otros griegos aliados suyos se ofrecen gustosos
a la manutención, así de vuestras mujeres, como de la demás familia
que no sirva para la guerra, y esto os lo prometen por todo el tiempo
que continuare la actual. Por los cielos, atenienses, no os dejéis
engañar de las buenas palabras de Alejandro, que tanto os halaga y
lisonjea de parte de Mardonio, en lo cual obra como quien es: un tirano
patrocina a otro tirano amigo suyo. Pero vosotros no obraríais como
quienes sois, si hiciereis lo que pretenden de vosotros, pues bien claro
podéis ver, si no queréis de propósito cegaros, que nadie debe dar fe a
la palabra, ni menos fiarse de la promesa de un bárbaro». Así fue
como dichos embajadores se explicaron.
CXLIII. La respuesta que luego dieron a Alejandro los atenienses
fue concebida en estas palabras: «En verdad, Alejandro, que no se nos
caía en olvido cuáles sean, según decíais, las fuerzas del medo, y
cuánto doblemente superiores a las nuestras; ¿por qué a nuestra faz
hacernos ese alarde?, ¿por qué echarnos en cara nuestra mengua y
falta de poder? Nosotros os repetimos que defendiendo la libertad
sacaremos esfuerzo de la debilidad nuestra, hasta tanto que más no
podamos. En suma, no os canséis en balde procurando que nos
unamos con el bárbaro, cosa que otra vez no os la sufriremos. La
respuesta, por tanto, que deberéis dar a Mardonio será que le
hacemos saber, nosotros los atenienses, que en tanto que girare el so
por donde al presente gira,[362] nunca jamás hemos de confederarnos
con Jerjes, a quien eternamente perseguiremos, confiados en la
protección de los dioses y en la asistencia de los héroes nuestros
patronos, cuyos templos y estatuas religiosas tuvo el bárbaro, como
ateo que es, la insolente impiedad de profanar con el incendio. A vos
os prevenimos que nunca más os presentéis ante los atenienses con
semejantes discursos, ni, so color de mirar por nuestros intereses
volváis segunda vez a exhortarnos a la mayor de todas las maldades
Vos sois nuestro buen amigo, sois huésped público de los atenienses
mucho nos pesaría el vernos precisados a daros el menor disgusto».
CXLIV. Tal fue la respuesta dada a Alejandro: después de ella
diose estotra a los enviados de Esparta: «El que allá temieran los
lacedemonios no nos coligáramos con el bárbaro, puede
perdonárseles esta flaqueza natural entre hombres; el que vosotros
sus embajadores, testigos de nuestro brío y denuedo, temáis lo mismo
no es sino una infamia y vergüenza de Esparta. Entended, pues
espartanos, que ni encierra tanto oro en todas sus minas el globo
entero de la tierra, ni cuenta entre todas sus regiones alguna ni tan
bella, ni tan feraz, ni tan preciosa, a trueque de cuyo tesoro y de cuya
provincia quisiéramos los atenienses pasarnos al medo con la infame
condición de la esclavitud de la Grecia; que muy muchos son y muy
poderosos los motivos que nos lo impidieran, aun cuando a ello nos
sintiéramos tentados. El primero y principal es la vista de los mismos
dioses aquí presentes, cuyos simulacros aquí mismo vemos
abrasados, cuyos templos con dolor extremo miramos tendidos por e
suelo, y hechos no más unos montones de tierra y piedra. ¡Ah!, que
nuestra piedad y religión en vez de dar lugar a la reconciliación y
alianza con el mismo ejecutor de tanto sacrilegio y profanación, nos
pone en una total necesidad de vengar con todas nuestras fuerzas e
numen de tanto dios ultrajado. El segundo motivo nos lo da el nombre
mismo de griegos, inspirando en nosotros el más tierno amor y piedad
hacia los que son de nuestra sangre, hacia los que hablan la misma
lengua, hacia los que tienen la misma religión, la comunidad de
templos y de edificios, la uniformidad en las costumbres y la
semejanza en el modo de pensar y de vivir. En fuerza de tales vínculos
y de nuestro honor, miramos por cosa tan indigna de los atenienses e
ser traidores a nuestra patria y nación, que os aseguramos de nuevo
ahora, si no lo teníais antes bien creído, que mientras quede vivo un
solo ateniense, nadie tiene que temer que se una Atenas con Jerjes en
confederación. Ese vuestro cuidado y empeño que mostráis para con
nosotros, que nos vemos sin casa en que morar, tomando tan a pecho
nuestro alivio, hasta el punto de ofreceros a la manutención de
nuestras familias, con toda el alma os lo agradecemos, amigos
lacedemonios, viendo que no puede subir de punto vuestra bondad
para con nosotros. Con todo, en medio de la estrechez y miseria en
que nos hallamos, procuraremos, armados de sufrimiento, ingeniarnos
de tal manera, que, sin seros molestos en cosa alguna, pasemos como
mejor podamos nuestras cuitas. Ahora, sí, lo que os pedimos es, que
nos enviéis cuanto antes vuestras tropas, pues a lo que imaginamos
no ha de pasar mucho tiempo sin dejársenos ver el bárbaro en
nuestros confines, pues claro está que lo mismo será oír que nada le
otorgamos de cuanto en su embajada pedía, que dirigirse contra
nosotros. De suyo os pide, pues, la ocasión presente que salgáis con
nosotros armados hasta la Beocia para recibir allí al enemigo, antes de
que se nos entre por el Ática».
LIBRO NOVENO.

CALÍOPE.

Mardonio se apodera nuevamente de Atenas, abandonada de sus ciudadanos, los cuales se


quejan de la indiferencia de los lacedemonios: decídense estos a socorrerlos, por lo cua
Mardonio abandona la población después de haber demolido sus muros y edificios. — Los
griegos son atacados a las inmediaciones del Citerón por la caballería persa, y muere en la
refriega su jefe Masistio. Avanza el ejército griego hacia Platea y se atrinchera contra e
persa. Disputa entre los atenienses y los de Tegea sobre preferencia en el campamento y
mando: reseña y formación de ambos ejércitos, los cuales, en vista de los agüeros
permanecen indecisos, sin atreverse a dar la batalla. Decídese Mardonio a embestir contra
los griegos, y Alejandro de Macedonia les avisa en persona este proyecto. — Reto de
Mardonio a los laconios. — Tratan los griegos de retirarse para mejorar de posición, pero se
opone un caudillo lacedemonio, y entretanto algunos de los confederados huyen a Platea
Al retirarse los lacedemonios son atacados por los persas. — Muerte de Mardonio y fuga
del ejército persa, que atacado en sus trincheras es pasado a degüello por los griegos
Relación de los sujetos que se distinguieron en aquella jornada y del botín ocupado a los
persas. — El ejército griego trata de castigar a los aliados, y pone sitio a los tebanos
Entretanto, Leotíquidas con la armada griega intenta atacar a los restos de la persa; pero
sus jefes saltan en tierra y se fortifican en Mícala, en donde son atacados y vencidos por los
griegos. — Sublevación de los jonios contra los persas. — Riña entre Masistes y Artaíntes
generales persas. Amores incestuosos de Jerjes con la familia de Masistes. El manto de
Jerjes. Los griegos atacan el Quersoneso y se apoderan de Sesto, plaza defendida por los
persas, y dan muerte a su gobernador, el impío Artaíctes.

I. Recibida, pues, dicha respuesta, dieron la vuelta hacia Esparta


los enviados; pero Mardonio, luego que vuelto de su embajada
Alejandro le dio razón de lo que traía de parte de los atenienses
saliendo al punto de Tesalia dábase mucha prisa en conducir sus
tropas contra Atenas, haciendo al mismo tiempo que se le agregasen
con sus respectivas milicias los pueblos por donde iba pasando, los
príncipes de la Tesalia,[363] bien lejos de arrepentirse de su pasada
conducta, entonces con mayor empeño y diligencia servían al persa de
guías y adalides: de suerte que Tórax de Larisa, que escoltó a Jerjes
en la huida, iba entonces abiertamente introduciendo en la Grecia a
general Mardonio.
II. Apenas el ejército, siguiendo sus marchas, entró en los confines
de la Beocia, salieron con presteza los tebanos a recibir y detener a
Mardonio. Representáronle desde luego que no había de hallar paraje
más a propósito para sentar sus reales que aquel mismo donde
actualmente se encontraba; aconsejábanle, pues, con mucho ahínco
sin dejarle pasar de allí, que atrincherado en aquel campo tomara sus
medidas para sujetar a la Grecia toda sin disparar un solo dardo, pues
harto había visto ya por experiencia cuán arduo era rendir por fuerza a
los griegos unidos, aunque todo el mundo les acometiera de consuno
«Pero si vos, iban continuando, queréis seguir nuestro consejo, uno os
daremos tan acertado, que sin el menor riesgo daréis al suelo con
todas sus máquinas y prevenciones. No habéis de hacer para esto
sino echar mano del dinero, y con tal que lo derraméis, sobornaréis
fácilmente a los sujetos principales que en sus respectivas ciudades
tengan mucho influjo y poderío. Por este medio lograréis introducir en
la Grecia tanta discordia y división, que os sea bien fácil, ayudado de
vuestros asalariados, sujetar a cuantos no sigan vuestro partido».
III. Tal era el consejo que a Mardonio sugerían los tebanos: e
daño estuvo en que no le dio entrada,[364] por habérsele metido muy
dentro del corazón el deseo de tomar otra vez a Atenas, parte po
mero capricho y antojo, parte por jactancia, queriendo hacer alarde con
su soberano, quien se hallaba a la sazón en Sardes, de que era ya
dueño otra vez de Atenas, y pensando darle el aviso por medio de los
fuegos que de isla en isla pasaran como correos. Llegado en efecto a
Atenas, tomó a su salvo la plaza, donde no encontró ya a los
atenienses, de los cuales parte supo haber pasado a Salamina, parte
hallarse en sus galeras. Sucedió esta segunda toma de Mardonio diez
meses después de la de Jerjes.
IV. Al verse Mardonio en Atenas, llama a un tal Muriquides, natura
de las riberas del Helesponto, y le despacha a Salamina, encargado de
la misma embajada que a los de Atenas había pasado Alejandro e
Macedonio. Determinose Mardonio a repetirles lo mismo, no porque no
diera por supuesto que le era contrario y enemigo el ánimo de los
atenienses, sino porque se lisonjeaba de que, viendo ellos conquistada

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