Latest / The Story of Armenia: Survival Through Empires and Genocide — Fexingo History / Armenia's First Republic: The 1918 Stand at Sardarabad
Transcript
- Lucas: By early 1918, the Armenian Democratic Republic was barely more than a name on a map. The Ottoman Fourth Army had just shattered the Russian lines at the Battle of Sarikamish and was now pushing westward toward Yerevan, intent on finishing what the Hamidian massacres and the 1915 deportations had started. Luna: So they were literally running out of territory. Lucas: Exactly. They had declared independence in May, but militarily, they were a ghost. The regular Armenian volunteer units that had fought alongside the Russians were scattered, exhausted, or cut off. What remained was a mix of demoralized soldiers, refugees who had survived the death marches, and a few hundred students from the theological seminary in Echmiadzin who had been handed rifles they barely knew how to use. Lucas: The critical moment came in late April when an advanced detachment of the Ottoman Ninth Division, led by Demir Khansen, reached the village of Sardarabad, about forty kilometers west of Yerevan. If they took that village, the road to the capital was open. Luna: And the Armenians had almost nothing to stop them. Lucas: Almost nothing is right. The local commander, a former tsarist officer named Tovmas Nazarbekian, arrived with about five hundred men, many of whom were wounded or ill. He didn't have artillery, he didn't have machine guns, and he certainly didn't have enough ammunition for a sustained firefight. His only advantage was terrain and desperation. Luna: What did they actually do to hold the line? Lucas: Nazarbekian realized he couldn't win a conventional battle, so he turned the defense into a fight for every inch of ground. He positioned his small force on the high ridges overlooking the village, forcing the Ottomans to attack uphill. When bullets ran low, the fighters switched to rocks, clubs, and eventually bare hands. It was brutal, close-quarters combat that lasted for days. Luna: That sounds incredibly chaotic. Lucas: It was. But while Nazarbekian held the front lines, a parallel miracle was happening inside Yerevan itself. Aram Manukian, a legendary revolutionary figure who had already saved Van during the genocide, organized a civilian militia. He went door to door, rallying everyone from priests to shopkeepers, convincing them that surrender meant extinction. Luna: He basically armed the entire city. Lucas: He did. Manukian coordinated supply lines, brought up reinforcements from nearby villages, and maintained morale through sheer force of will. By the time the fourth day of fighting rolled around, the Ottoman advance had stalled completely. Demir Khansen was forced to retreat, and the momentum shifted back toward the Armenians. Luna: I hadn't realized how much civilian involvement mattered there. Lucas: It was the defining feature of the victory. Without Manukian’s mobilization of the urban population, Nazarbekian’s troops would have been overrun by exhaustion and lack of supplies. The Battle of Sardarabad wasn't just a military engagement; it was a social explosion of resistance against annihilation. Luna: Did they manage to push the Ottomans back after that? Lucas: Not exactly push them back in a counter-offensive, but they held the line long enough for diplomacy to catch up. The British, who were also operating in the region, pressured the Ottomans to negotiate. This led to the Treaty of Batum in June, which formally ended hostilities and recognized the borders of the new republic, albeit at a significant territorial cost. Luna: So they survived, but they lost land. Lucas: They lost Kars and other western territories, but they kept Yerevan and the core of their population. It was a pyrrhic survival in some ways, but without Sardarabad, there would have been no state left to sign that treaty. Luna: It feels like a narrow escape. Lucas: It was. And it set the stage for the next challenge. Even as they celebrated, the geopolitical landscape was shifting beneath their feet. The Bolshevik Revolution in Russia meant that the Red Army was pulling out of the Caucasus entirely, leaving the Armenians isolated between the Ottomans in the west and the emerging Soviet threat in the north. Luna: Who were they supposed to turn to now? Lucas: That isolation is what makes the story of the First Republic so tragic. They had won their existence, but they lacked the resources to defend it in the long term. The victory at Sardarabad bought them time, but it didn't buy them security. Luna: It must have felt very fragile. Lucas: Extremely. The government in Yerevan was constantly balancing between seeking help from the West and dealing with the reality of Soviet expansion. The memory of Sardarabad became a foundational myth, but the political realities were far messier. Luna: How did that play out in the years that followed? Lucas: Within two years, the Red Army crossed the border, and the Armenian Democratic Republic fell. But the spirit of that 1918 defense influenced generations of Armenians. It proved that they could organize, fight, and survive against overwhelming odds. Luna: A powerful legacy. Lucas: It is. And it reminds us that history isn't just about great empires falling, but about small communities finding the strength to say 'no' when everything suggests they should disappear. Luna: That resonates deeply. Lucas: If you've been stepping into history with us episode by episode, you know these stories stick with you. Keeping this network ad-free relies on listeners who find value in these deep dives. If today was useful, you can support us directly at buy me a coffee dot com slash fexingo. Luna: It really helps keep the research rigorous. Lucas: It does. And it allows us to keep digging into these overlooked moments without compromise. Luna: Thanks for making that clear. Lucas: Back to the story, though. The fall of the First Republic didn't erase the identity forged at Sardarabad. Instead, it pushed that identity into the diaspora. Luna: Where did those people go? Lucas: Many fled to Syria, Lebanon, and France, carrying the memory of that brief independence with them. In places like Beirut and Paris, they built communities that preserved the language, the culture, and the political aspirations of the 1918 state. Luna: So the republic lived on abroad. Lucas: In many ways, yes. The institutions, the legal frameworks, and even the flag of the modern Republic of Armenia are direct descendants of that 1918 experiment. The seeds were planted in the mud of Sardarabad. Luna: It’s amazing how resilient that lineage is. Lucas: It is. And it raises a question about how nations are defined. Is it land? Or is it the shared memory of survival? Luna: Probably both. Lucas: For the Armenians of 1918, it was definitely both. They fought for the land because losing it meant losing their future, but they also fought for the idea that they deserved to exist. Luna: A profound motivation. Lucas: Absolutely. And when you look at the monuments today, like the one at Sardarabad, they aren't just honoring soldiers. They are honoring the collective will to persist. Luna: That’s a fitting tribute. Lucas: It is. Next time, we might explore how those diaspora communities maintained their connection to the homeland despite being thousands of miles away. Luna: I’d love to hear that. Lucas: We’ll take you there. Until then, keep asking questions.