As a very well-known fact, Armenians were scattered around the world and I think their global existence can be examined under three broad categories: Armenians of Armenia, diaspora Armenians, and Armenians of Turkey. Of course, these broad categories—especially the diaspora category—contain significant internal differences based on region/country, political outlook, denomination, class, daily life, and other factors. Nevertheless, at the broadest level, I think this threefold categorization is analytically useful.
Although there are those who argue that the Armenians of Turkey should also be considered part of the diaspora, I do not share that view. In any case, I do not think this is a subject in which one can draw clear lines and establish absolute definitions. The main reason for this ambiguity is that the concept of diaspora itself is a fluid identity and a slippery terrain where objective and subjective criteria intertwine. Being part of a diaspora and feeling so are not always the same thing. If subjective criteria become dominant, it is entirely possible for a community that is not objectively a diaspora to become “diasporized.” There is also the question that can be asked of any community: “A diaspora of where?” In other words, should a diaspora be defined according to ethnic identity or according to the geography from which one’s roots originate? Is it an Armenian diaspora, a diaspora of Armenia, or both? Considering that there are communities in diaspora that have never had actual historical connection with present-day Armenia, the answer is probably both.
If I am to put the distinction between objective and subjective criteria in another way, what individual people feel may be one thing and determining where a community as a whole belongs may be another. In this sense, some members of the Istanbul Armenian community may see or feel themselves to be part of a diaspora. However, I do not think it is objectively possible to define the Armenian community of Istanbul, where its roots go back more than a millennium, as a diaspora community. Istanbul was a historical center of Western Armenian culture; and it has been home to a major religious institution, the Armenian Patriarchate, which has existed there for more than five centuries. (From this perspective, it is possible that one day Los Angeles, Paris, or Montevideo may also cease to be considered diaspora communities. In fact, that day may not be so far away. Recall the remark made by Prime Minister Pashinyan during his recent visit to Istanbul, when speaking with members of the Armenian community. Referring to Armenians scattered around the world, he said something to the effect of: “I am not the prime minister of all of you, I cannot.” The relationship between Armenia and world Armenians, and their respective positions, deserve much more detailed discussion, but I think Pashinyan is essentially right.)
Because of material circumstances, the psychology of Turkey’s Armenians developed differently from that of the diaspora, for better or worse. For example, they were not able to mourn properly for their loss after the genocide, but although they never completely forgot their pain and anger, they softened it—or were forced to soften it—through the natural course of life. (Whether this made them psychologically healthier or more neurotic is open to debate.) The diaspora, on the other hand, especially generations born and raised abroad, constructed their perceptions around an abstract image of “the Turk.” This does not mean that the image was entirely wrong, but many grew up with little or no direct contact with actual Turks. Armenians in Turkey, by contrast, established actual relationships with Turks, again for better or worse. These relationships were not always humane, but they were more humanistic and more real.
Armenians also faced discrimination in the diaspora, especially in its early years, but Armenians in Turkey lived under greater systematic pressure than diaspora Armenians. At the same time, however, they were able to maintain a more tangible and experiential connection to their roots. While the genocide and its commemorations became a foundation of identity, social cohesion, and solidarity for diaspora Armenians, Armenians in Turkey were unable even to speak publicly about the genocide until the late 1990s. These are just some of the differences between the diaspora and the Armenians of Turkey that can be listed in a single breath. The list could undoubtedly be extended.
As I have said, diaspora is a somewhat complex concept, both intellectually and existentially. My purpose in this article is not actually to debate the concept of diaspora or to seek an answer to the question, “Is the Armenian community of Turkey a diaspora or not?” Rather, what I want to focus on is how the Armenian diaspora—especially the Armenian diaspora in the United States—views, treats, and approaches the Armenians of Turkey.
My observation is that there are contradictory elements in the diaspora’s view of the Armenians of Turkey. But before discussing these contradictions, it is worth looking at the issue chronologically. Initially, indeed, for quite an extended period, diaspora Armenians treated the Armenians who remained in Turkey as though they did not exist. They forgot about them. It was as if no one had survived the genocide, as if, in their eyes, the genocide equaled complete annihilation and total loss. For a long time, they paid little attention to the Armenians living in Turkey.
It should be noted, of course, that first-generation the diaspora was preoccupied with surviving and establishing themselves in unfamiliar countries after the immense destruction, loss, and displacement they had endured. Aside from those who searched for their relatives on an individual basis, they were hardly in a position, as a community, to concern themselves with the Armenians who had remained in Turkey.
With the emergence of the second and even third generations in the diaspora, however, one can probably say that a certain curiosity about the Armenians of Turkey began to develop: How do they live? What do they do? What is it like to live alongside Turks? Are they under pressure? As physical and intellectual barriers continue to disappear, this interest has grown and will likely continue to grow.
At the same time, one reason why the diaspora, its academic institutions, political parties, and other social organizations, ignored the Armenians of Turkey for so long was the perception that the existence of survivors somehow undermined the very nature of the genocide. In other words, the fact that some people had survived seemed, in their eyes, to diminish the horror, brutality, and evil of the genocide.
The irony is that the official denialist discourse in Turkey often adopts a similar approach. Its proponents say, “If this was a genocide, then how is it that so many Armenians still live in Turkey?” One would think that, for an event to qualify as genocide, not a single individual must be left alive. Yet there is no such requirement, either legally or academically. If the existence of survivors meant that a genocide had not occurred, then today we would be unable to describe almost any genocide—including the Jewish genocide—by that name. Even in the case of Polish Jews, who suffered the greatest devastation during the Holocaust (approximately 90 percent of Polish Jews were murdered), there were still survivors.
As for the contradictions of diaspora’s outlook on Armenians in Turkey, they can be expressed in several ways. For example, there is, on the one hand, a certain disdain, while on the other hand there is admiration—or something akin to it. To put it differently, diaspora Armenians generally view the Armenians of Turkey as having been assimilated, as having lost their Armenian identity and become “Turkified.” Yet at the same time, they are the ones who remained in the “homeland.” True, those still living in their ancestors’ cities and villages are now few enough to count, but they are still in the country; they still live close to the ancestral lands.
In the eyes of other Armenian communities, the Armenians of Turkey are simultaneously lost—even “sold out”—and yet they are also the ones who managed to endure despite all the hardship. On the one hand, they are not regarded as “real Armenians”; on the other hand, they are envied.
I should add, however, that those who look down on the Armenians of Turkey and those who respect them are not necessarily the same people. I am speaking of different attitudes that can be observed within diaspora communities. Some individuals may be dismissive, while others feel admiration or respect.
At this point, I think my argument becomes clearer if I quote a few sentences from an article written by Maral Tavitian, herself a member of the diaspora, published in Agos on May 15, 2026. Speaking about the Armenian community of Turkey, Tavitian writes:
“Loss is undoubtedly a central theme of the Armenian experience, but this community also rests on an equally important legacy of continuous presence.... Looking back, I imagine that my nene would have wanted us not only to remember, but to create something new on top of all that tragedy. The Armenians of Istanbul showed me that doing so is possible, despite unimaginable loss. They stayed, and with their presence, they represent a piece of all of us.”
Here Tavitian is saying something that directly supports the argument I am trying to put here: Istanbul cannot be considered a diaspora space for Armenians. Indeed, Istanbul is such an ancient and deeply rooted place for Armenians that signs of Armenian language and culture continue to manifest themselves—and continue to survive, albeit in weakened form—despite more than a century of policies aimed at suppression and eradication.
This is not directly related to the subject at hand, but reflecting on these matters also makes one realize something else: those who manage the institutions of the Armenian community in Turkey bear a responsibility not only toward Turkey’s Armenians, but toward Armenians everywhere. Whether they wish it or not, the Armenians who remained in Turkey have become custodians of what remains of a millennia-old Armenian culture in these lands, with all its diverse components. The Armenian community of Turkey has a responsibility toward Armenian history and culture simply by continuing to live, survive, and exist. In a sense, they are like guardians of a temple.
