Amid the conflict between Israel and Hamas and the ongoing war in Ukraine, the exodus of ethnic Armenians from the disputed region of Nagorno-Karabakh is getting little media attention – to the chagrin of Armenians, who feel betrayed by the international community, for the third time.
"I'm the third generation of Armenian genocide survivors," says Aline Kamakian, a chef and owner of a string of restaurants in Armenia and Lebanon, who volunteers to help refugees from Nagorno-Karabakh.
Kamakian, who is part of the vast global Armenian diaspora, is referring to the massive campaign of ethnic cleansing launched by the Ottoman Empire in 1915, which murdered up to 1.5 million ethnic Armenians.
The mass killings and death marches saw entire villages destroyed, and prompted the remaining population to flee on a massive scale.
"I always thought that because there was no TV or internet at the time, that's why the genocide arrived. Because if someone would know what's going on, no way that any country would let that happen," Kamakian told RFI in an interview at the offices of the Armenian General Benevolent Union (Agbu) in Paris.
The world did pay some attention to the genocide at the time. There were books and even a Hollywood movie based on the story of an Armenian girl, Aurora Mardiganian, who managed to escape while her relatives were killed.
Her memoir and the film adaptation, as well as efforts by Western diplomats and Armenians who had fled abroad, resulted in a global support network and generated sympathy among the public at large.
But global attention was mainly focused on World War I and its aftermath, and the Armenian genocide, already underreported when it happened, was quickly forgotten.
Two decades later, Adolf Hitler – who, according to some researchers, was inspired by the tragic events to target Jews – famously asked on the eve of the Nazi invasion of Poland in 1939: "Who, after all, speaks today of the annihilation of the Armenians?"
Pogroms
Under Soviet rule from 1921 to 1989, the semi-autonomous "Armenia Soviet Republic" lived in relative peace. But when the Soviet Union started to fall apart, hostilities flared again in Nagorno-Karabakh, resulting in a brutal, six-year war starting in 1988 that cost the lives of some 25,000 people.
And in 1990, according to the Council of Europe, hundreds of thousands of Armenians living in Baku – capital of the then Azerbaijani Soviet Republic – faced "a large-scale series of pogroms" where "hundreds of Armenians were murdered, mutilated, persecuted, displaced". As a result, the Council's members declared in 2020, "under the threat of extermination, around 250,000 Armenians were forced to flee Azerbaijan".
But the episode wasn't widely reported as it was – once again – overshadowed by other matters, in this case the turbulent events surrounding the fall of the Berlin Wall and the demise of the Soviet Union.
Meanwhile the conflict continued, and according to Human Rights Watch, both sides were guilty of extreme atrocities. In 1994 a stalemate resulted in a fragile peace guarded by international peacekeepers, but hostilities broke out again in 2020.
That war ended with a Moscow-brokered ceasefire. A Russian force of 1,960 military personnel and 90 armoured personnel carriers was deployed in the enclave to keep the peace, with a renewable five-year mandate.
But in 2022, after the Russian invasion of Ukraine, Azerbaijan stepped up its actions against Nagorno-Karabakh, blocking its supply routes and starving the population.
On 19 September, the bombing started – and forced the 200,000 remaining Armenians to flee the territory.
'State of shock'
The Armenians are "still in a state of shock", according to Richard Giragosian, director of the Yerevan-based Regional Studies Center, who spoke to RFI in Paris.
"The unexpected surrender by the Karabakh leadership and military was rather shocking to many in Armenia, but also to everyone forced to flee from Nagorno-Karabakh," he says.
The government in Yerevan finds itself confronted with the task of receiving and housing the sudden influx of tens of thousands of refugees.
"Part of the problem is international assistance," according to Giragosian. And aid, as significant as it's been, has not been quick enough to respond to urgent needs.
The Armenian diaspora, however, jumped into action.
Kamakian, who was born and raised in Lebanon but keeps strong ties with Armenia, flew to Yerevan and traveled to Goris, where most of the refugees concentrated after their journey over the mountain pass from Nagorno-Karabakh.
"People were very tired, depressed," she tells RFI.
"They are people [who have been] living there since centuries and now going out of that and becoming refugees in Armenia.
"So what we were trying to do is at least to give a small comfort," she says, such as a hot meal that offers a familiar taste.
'No one did anything'
But when asked about how she feels about the waning attention from the West, Kamakian says she's disappointed.
"We are watching it live on the internet and nobody's moving. Maybe because we don't have gas, or because we're not politically wanted, no one talks about it. There was a ten-month blockage. No one nobody did anything," she says.
"The perception is hypocritical discrepancy between coverage of Ukraine versus neglected coverage of the plight of the Armenians of Nagorno-Karabakh," adds Giragosian.
"And now with the situation in Gaza, it's even worse in terms of the news cycle, which has moved on very quickly."
Though many countries, including France, have sent observers and promised aid or weaponry, not much has materialised yet.
"'Disappointed' is a very small word when you see your own country, your own people being brutally genocided and nobody talks about it," says Kamakian.
