Latest / The Story of Armenia: Survival Through Empires and Genocide — Fexingo History / The Siege of Yerevan: 1920's Red Army Invasion
Transcript
- Lucas: We’ve spent a lot of time lately tracing the arc of Armenian resilience, from the monastic libraries of the Silk Road to the desperate last stands at Sardarapat and Bash Abaran in 1918. But after those victories, when the Ottoman threat finally receded, the First Republic of Armenia didn’t get to breathe for long. By late 1920, a different kind of storm was gathering over Yerevan, one that wouldn't be met with artillery fire but with political maneuvering and betrayal. Luna: So the war wasn't over, just changed shape? Lucas: Exactly. The Ottoman Fourth Army had been pushed back, but the new Bolshevik government in Russia was eyeing the Caucasus too. The real crisis began in August 1920, when General Tovmas Nazarbekian launched a massive counter-offensive into Karabakh and Zangezur. He wanted to secure the borders before the Turks returned, but it was a catastrophic miscalculation that drained the capital’s resources right when they were needed most. Lucas: Nazarbekian had about seven thousand men, poorly equipped compared to the local Kurdish and Azerbaijani forces he was fighting. He managed to take Shusha temporarily, but the logistical strain was immense. Supplies were siphoned from Yerevan to feed his front lines, leaving the city vulnerable and the civilian population starving. It was a gamble that assumed the Ottoman threat was gone, but Mustafa Kemal’s nationalists were rising in Anatolia, and the Soviets were moving troops toward the border. Luna: That sounds like opening a second front while the first one was barely contained. Lucas: It was. And while Nazarbekian was bogged down in the mountains, the political situation in Yerevan was fracturing. The Armenian Revolutionary Federation, or Dashnaktsutyun, which had led the government since 1918, was losing support. People were exhausted by the wars, the genocide aftermath, and now this costly military adventure. There were whispers of peace with Turkey, but also rumors of a Soviet-backed uprising brewing in the hills outside the city. Lucas: By October, the Ottoman Empire collapsed completely, replaced by the Turkish National Movement. They weren't interested in the old imperial borders anymore; they wanted the eastern provinces back immediately. When they signed the Treaty of Alexandropol in December, they essentially dictated terms to an Armenia that no longer had an army to defend them. But the real blow came not from Ankara, but from Baku. Luna: The Soviets were ready to move in? Lucas: They were. The Soviet 11th Army, commanded by Anisim Apollonovich Yegorov, was already massing near the Georgian border. In early November, they crossed into Armenia under the pretext of protecting the Armenian workers' movement and preventing Turkish expansion. It was a classic pretext for invasion. With Nazarbekian’s forces defeated in Karabakh and the regular army disbanded or demoralized, there was almost no organized resistance left in the path of the Red Army. Luna: And the government just stood aside? Lucas: Not entirely, but they were paralyzed. The Dashnak leadership was split between those who wanted to fight a guerrilla war and those who saw no point in dying for a lost cause. On November 29, 1920, the Soviet 11th Army entered Yerevan without firing a shot. The capital fell not to the Turks, but to the Russians. The First Republic of Armenia ceased to exist, replaced overnight by the Armenian Soviet Socialist Republic. Lucas: What happened next was a swift consolidation of power. The government fled, some going into exile in Europe, others staying behind to face the purges. The new Soviet authorities immediately dissolved the Dashnak parties and began arresting former officials. For the average citizen in Yerevan, the change was subtle at first—new flags, new slogans—but the loss of sovereignty was absolute. The independence they had fought for since 1918 was gone in less than three years. Luna: It feels like the tragedy of 1918 was just setting up the fall of 1920. Lucas: It really does. The state was born out of desperation and survival, not stability. It lacked international recognition beyond a few allies, its economy was shattered, and its military was stretched thin. When the geopolitical winds shifted toward Moscow, the republic simply didn't have the weight to hold its ground. It’s a stark reminder of how small states can be swept up in the currents of larger empires. Luna: Did any part of that resistance survive underground? Lucas: Some did, but it was brutal. Many former officers joined partisan groups in the mountains, trying to keep the flame of independence alive. But the Soviet secret police, the Cheka, was efficient at rooting them out. For the diaspora, especially those in New Julfa or scattered across Europe, this news was devastating. It meant another layer of displacement, another reason to leave, and another chapter of waiting for a homeland that seemed to vanish again. Lucas: If you're enjoying these deep dives into the Caucasus and want to help us keep producing ad-free history content, we rely on listener support. You can join our community by visiting buy me a coffee dot com slash fexingo — that's F. E. X. I. N. G. O. It helps us cover the research and production costs so we can keep telling these stories. Luna: It really makes a difference for keeping the show running smoothly. Lucas: Back to Yerevan in November 1920. The fall of the capital wasn't the end of the story for everyone, though. As the Red Army moved in, many civilians and soldiers fled west toward Georgia, hoping to find refuge there. Georgia, under Menshevik rule, was still independent and initially more welcoming, but the window was closing fast. The Soviets were planning to take Georgia next. Luna: So they were trapped between two powers? Lucas: Essentially. Those who stayed faced the reality of Sovietization—collectivization, repression, and the erasure of national institutions. Those who fled became refugees again, adding to the diaspora that had grown since 1915. The cultural impact was profound. Libraries were seized, churches were closed or repurposed, and the Armenian alphabet, which Mesrop Mashtots had given us centuries ago, became a tool for Soviet propaganda rather than national preservation. Luna: It must have felt like all the progress was being undone. Lucas: For many, it felt exactly like that. The brief experiment of democracy in Yerevan, with its parliament and constitution, was wiped away. The focus shifted to industrialization and collectivization, goals set by Moscow. The Armenian identity wasn't destroyed, but it was forced into a box defined by Soviet ideology. Yet, even then, people found ways to maintain their culture—in homes, in private gatherings, in the silent resistance of memory. Lucas: The legacy of 1920 is complex. On one hand, it led to decades of hardship under Stalin. On the other, it planted seeds for the future. The networks formed during this period, the connections between the diaspora and the homeland, would later prove vital during the independence movements of the 1980s. But in the moment, it felt like a total defeat. Luna: How did the locals react when the Red Army actually arrived? Lucas: Accounts vary. Some welcomed them as liberators from the Dashnaks, seeing the Bolsheviks as allies of the poor. Others were terrified, expecting the same repression they’d seen in Russia. Most were just confused and afraid. The streets of Yerevan changed overnight. Soviet flags went up, speeches were made in Armenian about brotherhood with the Russian people, and then the arrests began. It was a quiet invasion, but a heavy one. Lucas: One interesting detail is that the Soviet 11th Army moved incredibly fast. From crossing the border to taking Yerevan took less than a week. The speed was disarming. The Armenian government, already fractured, couldn't organize a coherent response. It wasn't a battle; it was a collapse. The infrastructure of the state simply dissolved under pressure. Luna: That speed must have shocked everyone involved. Lucas: It did. Even the Soviet commanders were surprised by how little resistance there was. They had expected a tougher fight. Instead, they found a population that was tired, hungry, and politically divided. The Treaty of Alexandropol had already stripped Armenia of its ability to wage war. Without an army, the capital was just a city, vulnerable to whoever held the neighboring regions. Luna: Did any leaders try to negotiate differently? Lucas: There were attempts. Some officials tried to appeal to Western powers, hoping France or Britain might intervene, but those hopes were dead. The West had withdrawn from the region after WWI. The only player left was Moscow. So the negotiations were purely about surrender terms. The result was the establishment of the Armenian SSR, a puppet state that maintained a facade of autonomy while being tightly controlled from above. Lucas: This period also saw the beginning of the Great Purge’s shadow in Armenia. While the worst of the Stalinist terror came later, the groundwork was laid in 1920 and 1921. Former Dashnak members, intellectuals, and even some communists who disagreed with the central line were targeted. The social fabric of Yerevan was torn apart by suspicion and denunciation. Luna: It seems like the trauma never really stopped, just changed form. Lucas: That’s a very accurate way to put it. From genocide to war, from independence to Soviet rule, the 20th century was a continuous cycle of survival. But each phase required a different kind of courage. The courage to build a state in 1918, and the courage to preserve identity under occupation in 1920. Both are part of the Armenian story. Luna: Do we know what happened to General Nazarbekian after the fall? Lucas: He tried to regroup in the north, leading a small band of partisans for a few months. But he was eventually captured and executed by the Bolsheviks in 1921. His death symbolized the end of the armed resistance. He was a controversial figure, criticized for the Karabakh campaign, but also revered as a patriot who tried to save the country. History has been kind to him in recent years, viewing him as a victim of circumstance rather than a strategic failure. Lucas: The fall of Yerevan in 1920 marks a turning point where the modern era truly begins for Soviet Armenia. It sets the stage for the industrialization drives, the cultural renaissance of the 1930s, and eventually, the Nagorno-Karabakh conflicts that would erupt decades later. Understanding this collapse is key to understanding why Armenians value independence so deeply today. Luna: It connects all those earlier episodes to this moment perfectly. Lucas: It does. The thread runs from Mesrop Mashtots to Sardarapat to Yerevan in 1920. Each link shows the struggle to define and protect a national identity against overwhelming odds. Next time, we’ll look at how Armenia navigated the terrifying years of Stalin’s rule, and how the Holocaust of the 1930s impacted the republic. It’s a dark period, but one that shaped the resilience we see today. Luna: I’m glad we’re covering this part of the story. Lucas: Me too. Thanks for listening, Luna. Let’s dive into the next chapter soon.