Written by Armen Sarkissian
The year 2022 was one in which Armenia and India celebrated 30 years of bilateral diplomatic relations. But this modern milestone, worth every toast raised in its honour, tells only a partial story of the bond it commemorated. Armenia and India are ancient civilisations that have known each other intimately for millennia. Indeed, the familiarity and depth of mutual affection between the two nations are remarkable given the vast geography that separates them.
Few nations occupy a more exalted position in our national memory than India — the land where generations of Armenian diaspora communities have thrived and gave shape to the dream of reviving the Armenian state, which had been obliterated over centuries of invasion and rule by foreign powers. Take, for instance, the Mamikonians, a revered aristocratic dynasty which controlled vast swathes of Armenia until the 8th century. A branch of the family moved between Armenia and India, and the greatest warrior it produced — the fifth-century military commander Vartan Mamikonian — bore a Sanskrit name.
Centuries before Vartan Mamikonian led his forces in defence of Christianity against the Persian army, a pair of Indian princes from Magadha had taken refuge in Armenia and even been allowed to raise Hindu settlements. That warmth and liberality were reciprocated by Indian rulers as late as the Mughal era. In 17th-century India, Armenians were highly valued for their artisanship, granted trade privileges, and taken on as advisors by royal courts. So extensive was the network of Armenians in India that by the 19th century, Kolkata — home, among other Armenian-Indians, to the fabled classical singer Gauhar Jaan — had gained a reputation as an Armenian city.
It was in Chennai, however, that ideas of resuscitating the Armenian state first bloomed. As early as 1773, Shahamir Shahamirian, the great Armenian nationalist based in southern India, published his pamphlet on a future Armenian state – a work that has justly come to be regarded as both a roadmap and a draft constitution for a reconstituted Armenia. Two decades after Shahamirian’s book, the first Armenian language journal, Azdarar, was published from Chennai. Together, these two works of print galvanised Armenian communities around the world and sparked a national consciousness. The Armenian republic which existed briefly between 1918 and 1920 was the culmination of an aspiration that had acquired wings in India.
The Armenian republic which was reborn in 1991 was recognised by India a day after the Soviet Union’s demise. New Delhi chose Yerevan, the Armenian capital, as the site of its first embassy in the Caucasus. My own career as a diplomat and politician, which began in the 1990s, was enhanced by the friendships I forged with Indians —from groundbreaking scientists to pioneering businesspersons and visionary politicians — and influenced by the lessons I learnt from India’s struggle for freedom.
In 2018, days after being sworn in as the fourth president of Armenia, I was confronted with the most formidable political challenge in Armenia’s post-Soviet history as tens of thousands of demonstrators gathered in the capital to demand the expulsion of the then prime minister. The protest has since been titled the “velvet revolution”, but there was nothing at the time to suggest that it was going to end peacefully. The slightest miscalculation by either side could have resulted in carnage. The Armenian Genocide Remembrance Day, which is marked every year on April 24, was around the corner. I feared that we were on the verge of disgracing that solemn occasion.
Although my role was largely ceremonial, I was adamant that something had to be done. The impetus for what came next emanated from my reading of Mahatma Gandhi, who in my opinion set the highest standard for personal conduct in politics. I told my advisors that I was going to meet the protestors. They baulked at the idea and said plainly that my security detail could not guarantee my safety. But the people massed outside the presidential palace were my compatriots. I could not function as their president if I feared them. So I walked out of the palace and into the crowd and shook hands with the people. Seeing that their first citizen was not some distant figure, they spoke freely. This breakthrough was worth every risk to my life. Suddenly, there were cheers. And instead of a bloodbath, Armenia experienced a peaceful transfer of power in the weeks that followed. This is a story I remember fondly because it speaks to the enduring power of nonviolence.
There are, however, still occasions when force is unavoidable, especially when it comes to nationhood and sovereignty. Over the past half-decade, India has emerged as Armenia’s pre-eminent defence partner. The current leadership of India is unafraid to speak bluntly about the ongoing aggression in the Caucasus, including the blockade of the Lachin corridor that has cut-off 1,20,000 Armenians of Nagorno-Karabakh from the world. As Armenia’s president, I cherished my excellent relations with India and it is heartening to see Delhi’s solidarity with Armenia in this time of crisis.
The partnership between Armenia and India is not driven by governments alone. It is pushed forward to a great extent by ordinary people from both countries — as it was two thousand years ago. Our governments have been playing catch-up over the past three decades.
Sarkissian, a scientist and diplomat, served as the 5th prime minister and the 4th president of the Republic of Armenia. His new book, The Small States Club: How Small Smart States Can Save the World, will be published next winter
