An Easter passed by without Hrant, and now we are welcoming the first 24 April without Hrant. I am sure that he would make one of his incredible, shocking inventions at this 24 April and somewhat influence the hardened, rigorous hearts. He would say, “Let’s not struggle desperately in the 1915 meters depth of a well,” or “Let’s turn the 23.5 April to a peace festival of the two peoples.” Amongst discourses lacking morality and conscience, he would thus spread hope to our hearts like an oasis in the midst of a desert or a lighthouse shining out in the dark. I will mostly miss the language of Hrant which I call Hrantish. However, one of the features of Hrantish is its infectiousness. This infectiousness arises from the morality that this language carries within. This discourse is direct and sincere. It bears no calculations, no strategies. Since we are so tired in this much viciousness and intrigue, when we hear Hrantish we attend to it as if we hear a piece of divine music. That’s why we will continue to live this discourse and keep it alive. So Hrant will be among us with his discourse and heart. We can talk with this language that shelters and cleanses all of us; by this way we can see that we are not hurt, and understand that we do not lose anything from our honour or the reality of our historical pains. Now, we know this.
We have grown accustomed to categorising and classifying everything. It seems that this kind of existence has a dialectical effect. We are trying to find a more meaningful, more important place for ourselves in the space by dividing the time into past, present and future, and assuming that each of these pieces are independent within themselves, whereas, just like the time, we are all in an existence, a whole. Each stone thrown to the sea of existence is continuing to shape all the existence with its own effect. That is, the so-called confrontation with the past, the thing that trembles you when pronounced, is not to look at a piece of time that is separated from the present and the future with just a nostalgic feeling or a historical concern. In contrast, it means to look at our lives, ourselves. By integrating our existence through integrating the time that we have divided into pieces, instead of being the ones living in the past or on a daily basis, or the ones that always postpone life, we become the living ones, people who really live.
Therefore, there is actually nothing that has come to an end.
So, disregarding how many years, even if it has been 92 or 392 years after the Armenian tragedy, it keeps standing at a point in our existence and continues to shape our present. To assume that there is no such reality or to try to see it in a way that we wish only makes the influence of that moment on our lives more adverse. It is possible to try it not for just 92 years, but for all eternity. There are no barriers to this, except for our wisdom and conscience.
However, against all unfavorable things, we are standing on a more positive position today in comparison with yesterday. We owe this primarily to our brave intellectuals like Hrant. Many taboos that are broken by them are being spoken today everywhere. Therefore, the assassination of Hrant combined the events that took place 92 years ago and January 19, 15:00 in the memories... Hrant had already stated in his last article that instead of leaving his country, if necessary, he would travel the tough roads where his elders did and participate in that march without knowing where he was going. Actually, he was aware that he had started that long march long long ago. From the very first moment when he was made into a target, he too was a follower of Zohrab.
As I have mentioned before, while talking about the taboos, the locks of whose doors Hrant broke, we won’t be able to proceed without referring to his name and its attendant discourse. Maybe we shall come to terms with our common past through Hrant. Maybe this arduous work will be eased by his big smile. Turks, Kurds, Circassians, Armenians and others will know the worth of Hrant to the extent they are able to be confronted with their own history. And only then will Ali pass the ball to Agop and the blind well that we struggle desperately in be closed, and will 23.5 April become our common festival.
20 April, Agos Newspaper
20 April, Agos Newspaper