Latest / The Story of Armenia: Survival Through Empires and Genocide — Fexingo History / Armenian Women in the Russian Empire: The Forgotten Revolution
Transcript
- Lucas: We’ve spent a lot of time looking at how Armenians survived empires, but usually through the lens of men in power or armies in the field. It’s easy to forget that while the male population was being decimated or drafted, a different kind of resistance was happening in the drawing rooms and schools of Tiflis. Lucas: I want to talk about the Armenian Women’s Union, formed in 1914, right on the edge of World War I. They weren’t just knitting socks for soldiers; they were building an entire parallel infrastructure of education and social welfare that would outlast the Tsarist regime itself. Luna: Wait, so they were organizing before the First Republic even existed? Lucas: Exactly. And they were operating in a place that feels almost foreign to us now: Tiflis, under Russian imperial rule. While Istanbul was closing down Armenian schools and persecuting activists, Tiflis became a hub for intellectual freedom. The women there realized that national survival wasn't just about military defense; it was about who could read, who could vote, and who could hold property. Lucas: The key figure here is Mariam Vardanian, a teacher and activist who essentially argued that you cannot have a free nation if half its citizens are legally children. She saw the hypocrisy of fighting for national independence while denying women basic civil rights within their own communities. Luna: That must have been incredibly risky in such a traditional society. Lucas: It was. The clergy and the conservative nakharar families pushed back hard. But Vardanian and her colleagues used the Russian legal system to their advantage. They filed petitions, published journals like Nairi, and leveraged the fact that Russian law technically granted some rights to women that Ottoman law did not. Luna: So they used the colonizer's laws against the colonizer? Lucas: Precisely. It was a brilliant, if uncomfortable, strategic move. They established literacy centers in rural areas where the state had failed completely. These weren't just classrooms; they were community hubs where women learned to manage finances, understand medical hygiene, and discuss politics without male intermediaries. Luna: Did they face opposition from other Armenian political parties? Lucas: Oh, constantly. The Dashnaktsutyun and Hunchak parties were initially skeptical, viewing women's issues as secondary to the existential threat of genocide and occupation. But by 1918, when the First Republic declared independence, the women’s unions had too much momentum to ignore. They walked into the new parliament with lists of demands. Luna: And they got the vote? Lucas: They didn't just get the vote; they got it before many Western European nations did. In 1919, the Armenian National Council passed a law granting women full suffrage and eligibility for office. This happened two years before French women got the vote and nearly a decade before American women secured federal protection. Luna: That is startlingly progressive for the time. Lucas: It was, largely because of the trauma of the Genocide. With hundreds of thousands of men dead, women had to step into roles as heads of households, breadwinners, and community leaders simply to survive. The social contract had to break. You couldn't keep women confined to the home when there was no one else left to run the village. Luna: It sounds like necessity forced the evolution. Lucas: Necessity, yes, but also a deep ideological shift. Writers like Khachatur Abovyan had planted seeds earlier, but it was the women of the Union who harvested them. They translated works on feminism, debated philosophy in salons, and even sent delegates to international conferences in Switzerland and Paris. Luna: Did they have allies among the Russian women's movement? Lucas: They did, though it was complicated. There was a cross-pollination of ideas between Armenian, Georgian, and Russian feminists in Tiflis. They shared strategies for opening orphanages and hospitals. But they always maintained that their primary loyalty was to the Armenian national cause, using gender equality as a tool for nation-building. Luna: So it was nationalism through a feminist lens. Lucas: Exactly. If you look at the constitution of the First Republic, the articles on family law and education were heavily influenced by these women. They wanted a modern, secular state that could compete with Europe, not just a religious enclave surviving in the mountains. Luna: What happened when the Bolsheviks took over? Lucas: This is where the story gets tragic. The Soviets officially supported women's rights, but only insofar as it served the state. Independent organizations like the Armenian Women’s Union were dissolved. Their autonomy was crushed. Many of the leaders were arrested, exiled, or executed during the Great Purge of the 1930s. Luna: Erased again. Lucas: Erased, yes. Soviet history books praised the 'liberation' of women but stripped away the specific Armenian agency behind it. It became a generic narrative of Soviet progress, hiding the unique contributions of figures like Mariam Vardanian. Luna: It feels like we're still recovering that ground. Lucas: We are. And it reminds us that resilience isn't just about enduring violence; it's about creating institutions that last. Even those short years of the First Republic showed what was possible. Luna: I never realized how central women were to that brief window of independence. Lucas: It’s a gap in our memory that we’re slowly filling. But before we go deeper into the post-Soviet revival of these archives, I want to pause for a moment. Luna: Okay. Lucas: If today’s look at these overlooked histories felt useful, the way these stay ad-free is listener support — buy me a coffee dot com slash fexingo. Luna: Yeah, it really helps keep the research going. Lucas: Thanks for listening. Now, let’s talk about how those same networks re-emerged in the diaspora. Luna: Right, the diaspora connection. Lucas: When the Bolsheviks closed the doors in Yerevan, the torch was passed to Beirut, Los Angeles, and Paris. The Armenian Women’s Union didn't die; it went underground and then transplanted itself. Luna: How did that transplantation work? Lucas: In Beirut, which had a huge refugee population after 1915, the women set up schools that taught both Armenian language and modern civic duties. They created a bridge between the old world and the new, ensuring that the values of the First Republic weren't lost in the trauma of displacement. Luna: So they kept the political legacy alive in exile. Lucas: They did. And interestingly, in places like Los Angeles, these women started publishing newspapers that reached back to the Caucasus, keeping the debate about governance and rights alive long after the Red Army had occupied Armenia. Luna: It’s a powerful form of resistance. Lucas: It is. And it shows that the fight for recognition isn't linear. It loops back on itself, finds new roots, and grows in unexpected places. Luna: Like seeds carried on the wind. Lucas: Exactly. Much like the khachkars we discussed earlier, these ideas were carved into stone, but they also traveled on paper and in conversation. Luna: Do we know if any of those original founders survived the Soviet period? Lucas: Very few. Most died in purges or exile. But their diaries and letters were preserved by their daughters, who later brought them to light in the 1990s. That archival recovery is a huge part of modern Armenian historiography. Luna: It changes the whole narrative of the 20th century. Lucas: It does. It moves us from a story of passive victimhood to one of active, complex political engagement. These women were stateswomen in all but name. Luna: I’m glad we finally gave them their due. Lucas: Me too. And it makes you wonder what other voices are waiting to be heard in the margins of these archives. Luna: Probably more than we think. Lucas: Indeed. Next time, we might look at how that diaspora press influenced the arts, specifically the visual metaphors used in post-genocide painting. Luna: I’d love to hear that. Lucas: Until then, keep asking questions. Luna: Always.