On Turkey-Armenia Border, Slight Hope for Change

I've worked in the South Caucasus for many years, and have always been curious to see how people live on either side of the Armenia-Turkey border. I recently took a two-week trip to Turkey and Armenia to find out.

The border has been closed since 1993. By now, the people who live near it seem to see an open border as more of a symbolic act than something they can imagine. There is no concrete idea about how an open border would change their lives.

Maybe that is because the two sides have been shut off from each other for so long.

In 1921, the Bolsheviks, who then controlled Armenia, signed the Treaty of Kars that gave the Armenian towns of Kars, Igdir, and Artvin, among others, to Turkey.

For the next 70 years, that new border became not only the border between Armenia and Turkey, but also between the Soviet Union and the West.

Still, strong connections between the two sides persist. Much of it is based around the events of 1915, when thousands of Armenians were massacred by Ottoman Turks. The Turks, for their part, say that they suffered massacres, too, by Armenians.

Until recently, the history of the Armenians who lived in Turkey was kept silent. But as Turkey tries to join the European Union that has begun to change.

The local people with whom I talked on the Turkish side of the border are fully aware that thousands of Armenians used to live here.

Two towns that used to be part of Armenia are, in fact, the area's main tourist attractions.

In the 10th century, the Armenian King Abas I established Kars, which passed to Turkish control in 1921. The town has also been under Georgian, Russian and Ottoman control.

Turkey's ties with Armenia may not be good, but the official guide to Kars clearly states the Armenian presence in the town and area. One local tour guide said that he has plenty of Armenian tourists coming to Kars via Georgia from Armenia.

Forty-two kilometers from Kars are the ruins of Ani, an ancient capital of Armenia. Along with Mount Ararat, also in Turkey, Ani is one of the most powerful symbols for Armenians of their lost territory. In Armenia, you can see restaurants, shops and other places called Ani. And Ararat is a popular name for Armenian men.

As you look at the photos, I am moving south toward Igdir, the site of Mount Ararat.

In Igdir, I was surprised to see a park dedicated to Heydar Aliyev, the late president of Azerbaijan.

It was because of Azerbaijan that Turkey closed its border with Armenia, to show support for Azerbaijan in its war with Armenia over the breakaway territory of Nagorno Karabakh.

This was the first time that I had seen this visual representation of the Turkish-Azerbaijani alliance -- an Azerbaijani flag above the entrance and a Heydar Aliev bas-relief in the middle of the park.

Most Turks I spoke to, though, want to see the border reopen. Many say that it is Russia whom they blame for the conflict between Turks and Armenians. Not Armenians.

They talk about Turkey's war with Russia in the early 20th century and the Russian border guards who are stationed at the Armenian border with Turkey. Turks see that and say that it is in Russia's interest to keep Armenians and Turks apart.

If the border were open here, it would take me about one hour to drive to Armenia's capital, Yerevan. But, instead, I had to go back via Georgia, which added about 12 hours of travel time.

In Armenia, the issue of the border reopening is a very emotional one.

From generation to generation, Armenians have passed down stories of how their ancestors fled from Ottoman Turkey during and after the 1915 massacre of ethnic Armenians there. These are stories of lost family members and lost homes.

Those stories are important for Armenians in Yerevan, too, but the Turkey border issue is less immediate for them than for villagers living on the border.

People in Yerevan said that the border has been closed so long that they have learned to live without it.

However, in the Armenian border villages, the situation is different.

Most of the villagers' income comes from selling their fruit, but since the border is closed, they do not have many options for earning their living. So some go to Yerevan to sell their produce and some travel about three and a half hours further north by train to Gyumri to sell their fruit.

As the border is closed, there is not much traffic going through these villages. We went to a cafe and were the first and probably the last guests there that day.

Maybe that will change in the future, if the border with Turkey reopens. But like so much else in these border areas, nothing is known for sure.