Latest / The Story of Armenia: Survival Through Empires and Genocide — Fexingo History / The Armenians of Tbilisi: Silk, Culture, and a Lost World
Transcript
- Lucas: Luna, before we dive into today's episode, let me just set the scene a little. If you look at a map of the Caucasus, the city of Tbilisi — or Tiflis, as it was long known — sits right in the middle, straddling the Kura River. It's been a crossroads for centuries, but by the 19th century, it had become something else: a kind of unofficial capital of Armenian life in the Russian Empire. Luna: I know Armenians had a big presence there, but I didn't realize it was that central. Lucas: Oh, absolutely. At its peak, Armenians made up perhaps 40 percent of Tbilisi's population. They were the dominant force in trade and finance, and they built an entire parallel society — churches, schools, printing presses, theaters, even their own charitable institutions. This was a community that produced some of the most influential figures in modern Armenian culture, like the poet Hovhannes Tumanyan, who spent much of his life there. But it was also a community that would be fundamentally uprooted in the 20th century. Luna: So what drew Armenians to Tbilisi in the first place? Lucas: The story really picks up in the 18th century, after the decline of the Persian Safavid Empire. Tbilisi was the capital of the Georgian kingdom of Kartli-Kakheti, and Georgian kings actively encouraged Armenian merchants to settle and revive the city's economy. Many of these Armenians came from the old trading town of Julfa — the same Julfa that Shah Abbas I had devastated a century earlier. They brought with them deep connections along the Silk Road, stretching from Persia to Russia to Europe. Lucas: By the time Russia annexed Georgia in 1801, Tbilisi's Armenian merchant class was already the economic backbone of the city. They controlled the silk trade, the banking, and much of the real estate. And they used that wealth to fund an extraordinary cultural renaissance. The first Armenian printing press in Tbilisi was established in the 1820s, and by the end of the century, the city had dozens of Armenian schools, several newspapers, and a thriving theater scene. Luna: Was there tension with the Georgian population? Lucas: It's complicated. On the surface, there was a lot of coexistence — intermarriage was common, and many Armenians spoke Georgian as well as Armenian. But there was also a strong undercurrent of resentment. Georgians saw Armenians as economically dominant and culturally separate, and the Georgian national revival of the 19th century often defined itself in opposition to Armenian influence. Things got particularly heated over the Armenian Apostolic Church's status in Tbilisi, since the Georgian church wanted to assert its own authority. Lucas: One of the most visible symbols of Armenian presence was the magnificent Armenian cathedral of Saint George, built in the 13th century and rebuilt several times. It dominated the old city skyline. But for many Georgians, it was a reminder of what they saw as Armenian encroachment. Luna: So it was a kind of parallel society within a society — flourishing, but vulnerable. Lucas: Exactly. And the vulnerability became clear in the late 19th and early 20th centuries. The Tsarist government pursued a policy of Russification, which meant closing Armenian schools and limiting the use of the Armenian language. Then came the First World War and the Armenian genocide, which devastated the homeland communities that Tbilisi's Armenians had supported. And after the Russian Revolution, the brief independence of both Armenia and Georgia gave way to Soviet conquest. Lucas: Under Soviet rule, the status of Armenians in Tbilisi changed dramatically. The Soviet policy of korenizatsiya — promoting local ethnic elites — actually benefited Georgians more than Armenians in Georgia. And later, Stalin's purges hit the Armenian intelligentsia hard. Many Armenian institutions were closed or taken over. The Armenian theater, which had been a beacon of cultural life, was shut down in the 1930s. Luna: I've heard about the Armenian theater in Tbilisi — it was supposed to be one of the best in the Caucasus. Lucas: It really was. Founded in the 1850s, it staged plays by Armenian playwrights like Gabriel Sundukian and later hosted performances by visiting European troupes. It was a point of pride for the community. But by the 1930s, the Soviet authorities decided it was a hotbed of nationalism, and they shut it down. The building was later turned into a Georgian theater. That was a huge blow. Lucas: The decline continued through the Soviet decades. Many Armenians left Tbilisi for Russia or Armenia proper, and those who stayed often assimilated. By the time the Soviet Union collapsed, the Armenian population had shrunk to maybe 7 or 8 percent of the city. And the post-Soviet period brought new challenges — the Georgian nationalist government of Zviad Gamsakhurdia was openly hostile to minorities, and the war in Abkhazia and South Ossetia created an atmosphere of insecurity. Luna: That must have been incredibly painful for a community that had been there for centuries. Lucas: It was. Today, only a few thousand Armenians remain in Tbilisi. The cathedral of Saint George still stands, but it's a shadow of its former self. The Armenian cemetery was bulldozed in the 1990s for a housing development. The old Armenian quarter has been largely rebuilt, and you have to look hard to find traces of what was once a vibrant world. But some things endure — the house of Hovhannes Tumanyan is now a museum, and there are still Armenian language classes and a cultural center. Luna: It sounds like a story of resilience, but also of loss. I wonder how much of that history is still remembered by younger Armenians in Tbilisi. Lucas: That's a great question. There's been a small revival in recent years, with some young Armenians rediscovering their heritage and pushing for the restoration of old churches and schools. But it's an uphill battle. The community is small, and the political climate in Georgia has been complicated — there's been a real tension between Georgian national identity and the recognition of minority histories. Lucas: You know, Luna, if today's episode helped you understand a little more about this lost world, it's worth mentioning that the way we keep this show ad-free is through listener support. If you found something useful here, you can buy me a coffee at buy me a coffee dot com slash fexingo. It really helps us keep going. Luna: Yeah, it's a small way to make sure conversations like this keep happening. And I think this one is really important — I knew Armenians were in Tbilisi, but I had no idea how central they were to the city's identity. Lucas: That's exactly why we do these deep dives. So, let me wrap up with one more thread. There's a poet you may have heard of — Hovhannes Tumanyan. He wasn't just a writer; he was a kind of cultural institution. He lived in Tbilisi for most of his life, and his home became a gathering place for Armenian intellectuals, artists, and activists. When he died in 1923, his funeral was a massive public event, with thousands of people from every community in the city. His legacy is a reminder of what that world was, and what it could have been. Luna: Is there a particular work of his that captures that Tbilisi spirit? Lucas: Yes, his poem 'Anush' is set in an Armenian village, but many of his shorter works evoke the streets and characters of Tbilisi. He wrote about the merchants, the craftsmen, the everyday life of the city. There's a line in one of his poems: 'The world is a bridge, cross it but build no house upon it.' I think that captures the sense of impermanence that Armenians in Tbilisi must have felt — they built so much, but in the end, they couldn't stay. Luna: That's beautiful. And sad. Thank you for telling that story. Lucas: Thank you for listening. That's all for today's episode of The Story of Armenia: Survival Through Empires and Genocide. We'll be back next time with another story from the long, complex journey of the Armenian people. Until then, keep exploring.