In Memory of Haroutiun Kurkjian, An Intellectual Giant of the Diaspora

BY RAZMIK PANOSSIAN

This summer the Armenian Diaspora lost one of its greatest intellectuals. Haroutiun Kurkjian passed away on August 8 in Athens, at the age of 81.

While his name might not invoke immediate recognition in the United States and other English-speaking countries (he never sought to write in Enlish), Kurkjian has had a profound impact on diasporan thought. The established Diaspora today thinks of itself as such partly because of his work, especially in the 1960s and 1970s. Along with a few other young men and women of his generation, Kurkjian thought through some of the fundamental issues affecting diasporan identity – issues that remain salient today.

This Armenian generation of ’68 called for a profound rethinking of who we are as diasporans, how we should relate to the world, to our past, present and future, and to the idea of the homeland. The generation included Krikor Beledian, Marc Nichanian, Vehanoush Tekian, Khachig Tololyan, Jirair Libaridian and a few others who subsequently went on to build their careers in other domains. Kurkjian stayed closer to “home,” serving in community organizations and schools in Lebanon and Greece.

Haroutiun Kurkjian’s 1968 seminal essay “Երկրորդ հաւասարում բազմաթիւ անյայտներով” (loosely translated as “A Second Equation with Many Unknowns”), first published in Ahegan (1968, no. 3-4, Beirut), is an absolute masterpiece. It calls for the re-evaluation of our relationship with the odar, the foreign. We must shun the comforts of the “ghetto,” Kurkjian argues, and embrace the world; we have to innovate and reformulate diasporan identity in a global setting, rather than look inward and withdraw into the conventional comfort zone of the familiar. It was a truly rebellious stance, in the spirit of the 1960s. In a conservative setting, Kurkjian was arguing that opening to the world was essential for the modernization of Armenian identity, and essential for youth to remain engaged within the Diaspora.

Alas, the revolutionary approach Kurkjian called for (he never used the word “revolution” himself) did not materialize. The civil war in Lebanon and the dispersion of the generation of ’68 marked the end of innovation and reformulation. The “ghetto” had to be physically defended and intellectually shielded. A deep fog of conservatism descended on diasporan thought and practice. The Karabakh movement in 1988 put an end to any attempt to reconceptualize the Diaspora, to think of itself and in itself, as all eyes were fixed on Yerevan and Stepanakert. The Diaspora stopped imagining its own future, or at the very least parked its imagination in Yerevan. Kurkjian himself realized that the opportunities of progressive change in the Diaspora had dried up and withdrew into the intellectual boundaries of the community.

And yet, critical voices remained, often unsung and unpublished (except on the pages of the Haratch newspaper in Paris). Two decades after 1988, Kurkjian published a sequel to his 1968 essay: “Զորս Տասնամեակ Ետք” (“Four Decades Later”). Writing in 2008, he honestly asks what did we (the generation of ’68) accomplish in changing diasporan perspectives in the last 40 years, to make it more open and in line with global trends? He leaves the question open, but clearly wants to go back to the fundamental question of the Diaspora’s relationship with the world, and the need to embrace it instead of seeking to isolate from it.

In July of this year, we at the Calouste Gulbenkian Foundation organized a three-day event partly to honor the generation of ’68, partly to instigate an inter- and intra-generational conversation, and partly to restart the tradition of diasporan thought – i.e. the habit of the Diaspora thinking about its own condition and future. One of the inspirations of the event had come from Kurkjian: the title of the gathering was “Հաւասարում Նորոգ” (Havasarum Norok – “A New Equation”), a play on words of his 1968 essay. The first invitation letter I sent was to Haroutiun Kurkjian. We were so pleased when he accepted the invite. It was only right to have him there, both to play tribute to him, and to be inspired by him. Kurkjian realized how much of an impact his essay had had 55 years after its publication, and how timely it remains. It feels like it was written just last week.

Kurkjian was a paragon of humility, delightful to interact with and generous. He inspired many generations of students as a teacher, stimulated our thinking and made us laugh with his stories. While he was in Lisbon, we spoke of future projects. Three weeks later he had succumbed to Covid, leaving a huge hole in our hearts and minds. His legacy is immense in the Armenian-speaking world, through his numerous writings, language and literature textbooks, Armenian-French dictionaries, and teaching. Thousands of students in Lebanon and Greece owe their intellectual development to him. Educators in the Armenian language know of his innovative textbooks.

Kurkjian was a master editor.  ARF-affiliated intellectual circles are familiar with his management of Droshak (the party magazine) in the 1980s and 1990s, as well as publications on party history. About four years ago he took onto himself the task of correcting the editing and printing errors in the published oeuvre of Hagop Oshagan. When I asked him why he wanted to undertake such a tedious job that will take nearly a year of his time, he simply answered in his characteristic humility: “I owe it to him; it is my intellectual debt to the greatest Armenian novelist of the 20^th century.” And he did it – meticulously.

Haroutiun Kurkjian’s last words that echoed at our gathering in July were “ինքնութեան մնայուն վերանայում” (constant re-evaluation of our identity). The spark of his ’68 rebellion was still with him: we cannot take our identity for granted; we must renew it constantly, and in line with current global realities. Each generation must do this, not only looking backward, but also forward; not only looking inward, but also outward. Kurkjian embraced our culture, our language, our community; but he also embraced the world, the new, the unfamiliar. Perhaps that was due to his ability to synthesize his Jemaran education with his graduate studies in philosophy at the Sorbonne.

In many respects, we have come full circle from 1968 to 2024, by way of a detour via Armenia and Artsakh. We need to go back to Haroutiun Kurkjian’s essay and continue his thinking if we want the Diaspora to survive both as an intellectual and as a living entity.

Հողը թեթեւ գայ վրադ սիրելի Յարութիւն: May you rest in peace dear Haroutiun. We will continue to be guided by your wisdom and inspired by your kindness.

Razmik Panossian is the Director of the Armenian Communities Department at the Calouste Gulbenkian Foundation in Lisbon, Portugal.