American-Armenians

[MJ]

Armenian-Americans as Political Players

 

California Journal

April 1, 2001

 

By Michael Doyle

 

Driven be memories, this tiny ethnic community wields a big political stick, as evidenced every April in U.S. House-sponsored genocide legislation

 

For Armenian-Americans, April is the cruelest month of all, a reminder of the bloody purge in their ancestral homeland 86 years ago that sent hundreds to their deaths. Fueled by the passion of that memory.

Armenian-Americans are united as perhaps few other minority groups, wielding considerable political clout -- from California's Capitol to the halls of Congress.

 

 

When Armenian-Americans talk, lawmakers listen. From Capitol Hill to

Sacramento, that political reality is all the more note-worthy

because, as an ethnic minority, Armenian-Americans are but a blip on

the population radar screen. Yet, after decades of diaspora,

privation and prejudice, Armenian-Americans have earned a striking

reputation for political clout that is often deployed in the service

of painful memories. Consider that: Thanks to Armenian-American

lobbying and dutiful tending by sympathetic lawmakers, Armenia is now

the second leading per-capita recipient of U.S. foreign aid, behind

Israel. For six years running, Congress has increased Armenian aid

beyond White House requests; this year, the $90 million for Armenia is

$15 million more than the administration sought. Legislatures from

Sacramento to Paris have, at the behest of Armenia-minded

constituents, waded into the business of historical interpretation by

officially declaring the murderous period from April 1918 to 1923 to

be the "Armenian Genocide." The 70-plus members of the Armenian

Caucus in Congress are credited with enacting long-running

restrictions on direct U.S. aid to Azerbaijan, a troubled and

oil-rich neighbor that has long been at odds with Armenia. "They do a

better lobbying job than most," Representative George Radanovich

(R-Mariposa) said of Armenian-Americans, comparing their influence to

that of other ethnic minorities. That influence is all the more

remarkable because, numerically speaking, Armenians are not a sizable

ethnic group. There are about 1 million Americans of Armenian descent

in the United States, about 500,000 of whom live in California,

concentrated primarily in Fresno and the Glendale-Pasadena area of

Southern California. While modest in numbers, the reasons behind the

political clout of Armenian-Americans illustrate why some populations

not only speak louder but are heard better than others. The

Armenian-American population is culturally cohesive, bound in part by

a distinct religion - the Armenian Apostolic Church, which has at

least eight churches in Glendale and six in neighboring Pasadena. That

contributes to a common message and a shared interest in the old

country. The population is concentrated, which amplifies the message

heard by local politicians. The population's major immigration flow to

the United States occurred decades ago, enabling assimilation into the

political system while still retaining its ethnic identity. "By and

large, on issues that relate to Armenia and the Armenian Genocide,

Armenians share basic beliefs," said Barlow Der Mugrdechian, professor

of Armenian Studies at California State University, Fresno. Plus, "The

community has structures in place, (like) the church, the Armenian

Assembly (and) the Armenian National Committee, which have become

effective voices for the community."

 

 

A look at legislation This year, for instance, the state Senate has

before it a bill to establish a California trade office in

Armenia. The trade office would cost up to $149,000 a year, in a

country that in 1999 imported only $10 million worth of California

products, less than the likes of Fiji or Qatar. But California's

Fijian and Qatarian populations are considerably quieter than the

Armenian population concentrated in the district of SB 179's author,

Jack Scott (D-Burbank). Explicitly citing the 500,000 Armenians

living in California, Scott's bill says the trade office is necessary

because "Armenia...continues to privatize small businesses and

state-run enterprises, providing opportunities for local and foreign

investors." Not that the Armenian-American population wins every

fight; just ask Jim Rogan. Make that, former Republican congressman

Jim Rogan, the one-time House impeachment manager who was ousted last

November by Democrat Adam Schiff. While Rogan and Schiff spent $11.2

million attacking each other in the 27th Congressional District race,

there was one issue on which they found common ground: Armenia, a

far-away country slightly smaller than the state of Maryland. With at

least five Armenian language newspapers and three Armenian-language

cable television stations, the 27th Congressional District is rich

with voters who maintain strong ethnic ties. So when House Speaker

Dennis Hastert last year was stumping for Rogan, he naturally met

privately with Armenian-American community leaders. Hastert promised

he'd bring to the House floor legislation co-sponsored by Rogan and

Radanovich that called public attention to "the Armenian Genocide of

1915-1923." The promise was tactically clever in helping Hastert's

efforts to retain a House majority. Ethnic politics, besides, are a

Capitol Hill tradition. But this particular promise also plunged the

House speaker into a diplomatic muddle involving one of America's most

crucially placed allies and the meaning of tragic memories. "Today

these memories live in the hearts and minds of many of my friends and

thousands of my constituents," Rogan said on the House floor in

1999. "It is our duty not to let these memories fade."

 

 

Reliving the genocide Armenian Genocide legislation is a Capitol Hill

perennial, going back at least to 1975. Broadly speaking, the

legislation summons forth the events that began April 24, 1915, when

Armenian leaders were rounded up in the dying years of the Ottoman

Empire. Murders, rampage and forced deportations followed. Marshaling

considerable evidence and the attestations of professional historians,

as well as esteemed Holocaust survivor Elie Wiesel, proponents of

genocide resolutions contend the resulting deaths of 1.5 million

Armenians clearly meet the definition of genocide: the intentional

destruction of an entire people. But the question persists: Was it

genocide or simply a brutal and chaotic war? Turkish Embassy officials

wrote in one summary that "Armenians, indeed, died in the eastern part

of the Ottoman Empire, but so did hundreds of thousands of Turks

inhabiting the area, as a consequence of the inter-communal violence

unleashed by Armenians." "This issue," the State Department's foreign

service chief, Marc Grossman, urged lawmakers last year, "should

really be in the hands of historians and scholars." Grossman, a

former U.S. ambassador to Turkey, was not simply counseling academic

detachment. Strategically situated, Turkey borders Syria, Iraq and

Iran and is the southernmost member of NATO, home to U.S. warplanes

flying out of Turkey's Incirlik Air Force Base. "The Turks have been

our friends and allies throughout the Cold War," said Rep. Dan Burton,

the volatile Indiana Republican who chairs the House Government Reform

Committee. "And so what are we going to do, give them a slap in the

face?" San Mateo Democratic Congressman Tom Lantos, a survivor of the

World War II Holocaust, similarly termed the genocide measure

"singularly counterproductive to our national interest." But

Congressman Brad Sherman (D-Sherman Oaks) cast the national interest

in a different light, saying that "if we reject this because it's bad

for (Turkish military) basing rights, then what credibility do we have

in the world?" The diverging opinions come draped in intensely bitter

feelings. Newspaper articles raising doubts about the genocide

resolution invariably draw heated letters and e-mails from

Armenian-Americans. Turkish officials are equally impassioned. In the

back of a crowded House International Relations Committee hearing room

last year, a Turkish Embassy official quickly drew for a reporter a

detailed map of the Russian and Armenian battle lines in 1918: Here,

the official said angrily, stabbing at the map, just look at the

circumstances back then, the obvious threat to the Ottoman Empire.

 

 

A GOP fumble? Bolstered by Hastert's promise to the embattled Rogan,

last year's resolution seemed destined for House passage. Until

October, when Israelis and Palestinians began killing each other again

in earnest. Blood was in the streets, the Middle East peace process

was unraveling, and Turkey was attempting to be a peacemaker,

utilizing its ties with Israel. Turkey was also considering whether to

renew U.S. rights to Incirlik, and whether to buy U.S. military

helicopters made in Texas. The timing was entirely inauspicious for

the House to consider a resolution that the painfully sensitive

Turkish government considered a kick in the teeth. Nonetheless,

proponents of the Armenian genocide legislation appeared indifferent

to the Middle East circumstances. Turkey, they said, will always find

one excuse or another to avoid judgment. But literally minutes before

House debate was to begin the night of Oct. 19 - and without bothering

to warn Radanovich and others - Hastert responded to a written request

from President Clinton and pulled the bill. It was a broken promise

by Hastert, who had assured Rogan's constituents the bill would get a

House vote. Republicans, though, directed the blame elsewhere.

"Clinton/Gore Administration Kills Armenian Genocide Resolution,"

Radanovich's subsequent press release declared. Radanovich insisted

the House speaker "had no choice but to accede to the president's

request" based on national security concerns raised by the White

House. At the same time, he urged constituents to call the White House

to protest, helpfully including the White House's phone number. It's

a given that the genocide resolution by Radanovich and others will

return this year sometime before April 24, the date that

Armenian-Americans consider the anniversary of the tragedy.

Meanwhile, Armenian-Americans are adept at deploying traditional

political weapons. There are registered lobbyists, including the

Armenian Assembly of America, which spent $200,000 in 1998 on its

Washington, D.C., lobbying, according to the Center for Responsive

Politics. There's an Armenian-American Political Action Committee,

which donated $44,750 to federal candidates in the last congressional

session. That isn't a large amount among PACS; however, tied with

strategically targeted contributions by individual donors,

Armenian-Americans make an impact. The Washington Post earlier this

year, for instance, reported that Armenian-American donors nationwide

had pitched in nearly $200,000 over the past five years to

U.S. Senator Mitch McConnell, the Kentucky Republican who chairs the

Senate panel overseeing foreign aid.

 

 

Still at war Sometimes, the congressional efforts direct aid Armenia's

way. Sometimes, those efforts go after Armenia's perceived enemies.

In 1996, for instance, the House approved a Radanovich amendment to

its annual foreign aid bill reducing U.S. aid to Turkey by $3 million

- the estimated amount Turkey spent on lobbying. The money would be

withheld, lawmakers said, until the Turkish government acknowledged

the Armenian tragedy. Subtle it wasn't, but it clearly sent a signal.

"Recognition of the genocide by the Republic of Turkey is the key

step," Der Mugrdechian said. "Turkish government policy is to deny the

genocide, to finance 'scholarship' to blame the victims, and in

general not to accept responsibility for the Armenian Genocide." The

amendment, supported by 41 of California's 52 House members, was

subsequently deleted during the House and Senate negotiations. Its

ultimate defeat, like the defeat of various genocide resolutions,

showed how powerful Turkish interests can be in their own right. While

they lack the grass-roots power of Armenian-Americans, they make up

for it in other ways. To combat last year's genocide resolution,

Turkey hired the former chairmen of the House Appropriations Committee

and the House Rules Committee, the impeccably connected Robert

Livingston and Gerald Solomon, for $700,000 each. Democrat Stephen

Solarz, a former member of what is now the House International

Relations Committee, received $400,000 for representing Turkey on a

variety of issues. This month, the old fight resumes.

 

 

The Bush precedent While courting Armenian-American voters a year ago,

President George W. Bush declared that "the Armenians were subjected

to a genocidal campaign" and promised that as president he "would

ensure that our nation properly recognizes the tragic suffering of the

Armenian people." The Armenian National Congress has issued some

100,000 postcards, so members in California and elsewhere can remind

Bush that only by "clearly and unambiguously characterizing the

Armenian Genocide as a genocide" can the president fulfill his

promise. Will he? For one possible answer, consider how Bush's own

father handled Armenian issues. During his 1988 presidential

campaign, the senior George Bush assured the Armenian Assembly of

America that "the United States must acknowledge the attempted

genocide of the Armenian people." He promised that "the Bush

administration will never allow political pressures to prevent our

denunciation of crimes against humanity." Once elected, however, the

promises given to a domestic political audience were dropped in favor

of international realpolitik. The senior Bush back-tracked, big

time. Suddenly opposing the genocide resolution, he told the

U.S. Senate he was "mindful...of the differing views of how the

terrible events of 1915-23 should be characterized" and was "sensitive

to the close relationship the United States has with our friend and

ally, Turkey." Bush's defense secretary at the time: Dick Cheney. The

New Republic reported last year that Cheney, while serving as chief

executive officer of the energy service company, Halliburton Co., had

urged repealing the aid embargo against Azerbaijan, which had been

imposed by Armenia's friends in Congress. Now, Vice President Cheney

is advising the younger man, President George W. Bush. "If we push

it a little bit harder, maybe we will succeed this time," Radanovich

said of his rewritten genocide resolution. "The only thing we have to

fear is a call from the president that we remove it from the agenda

for strategic reasons."

 

Michael Doyle is a reporter in the Washington, D.C., bureau of

McClatchy Newspapers. Comments may be sent to edit@statenet.com.

 

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