Latest / The Story of Armenia: Survival Through Empires and Genocide — Fexingo History / The Battle of Karakilisa: 1918's Forgotten Stand
Transcript
- Lucas: So we've talked about Sardarabad before, and Bash Abaran, but there's a third battle in May 1918 that's often left out of the story: Karakilisa. It's sometimes called the forgotten stand, and it was just as crucial in stopping the Ottoman advance. Luna: Karakilisa — that's modern-day Vanadzor, right? Lucas: Exactly. Vanadzor, in northern Armenia. In May 1918, it was a small town at a strategic crossroads. The Ottoman Third Army, under Vehib Pasha, had been pushing through the Caucasus after the collapse of the Transcaucasian Federation. Their goal was to seize the railway and the road to Tiflis, and ultimately to Baku. Lucas: The Armenian forces were in chaos. The newly declared republic had no real army — just scattered volunteer units, fedayee bands, and what was left of the Russian Imperial Army's Armenian regiments. Morale was low, and many thought the end was near. Luna: So how did they manage to hold at Karakilisa? Lucas: A lot of it comes down to two men: General Movses Silikyan, who had served in the Russian army, and Colonel Garegin Nzhdeh, who you might remember from our episode on the fedayee. Silikyan was put in charge of the northern front. He had maybe three thousand men, most of them poorly armed, against an Ottoman force that outnumbered them significantly. Lucas: Silikyan made a bold decision. He didn't try to defend a long line — he concentrated his forces at the village of Karakilisa itself, blocking the main road. He also sent Nzhdeh with a smaller detachment to harass the Ottoman flanks from the mountains. Luna: So a defensive stand with guerrilla tactics on the side. Lucas: Exactly. The fighting started on May 25, 1918, almost the same day as Sardarabad. The Ottomans attacked in waves, trying to break through the center. The Armenians held with bayonets and sheer grit. At one point, Nzhdeh led a desperate counterattack that threw the Ottomans back and bought Silikyan time. Lucas: But the real turning point came when reinforcements arrived — not from any official army, but from local Armenian villagers and refugees who had fled the advancing Turks. They grabbed whatever weapons they could find and joined the fight. It was a people's army, in the truest sense. Luna: That must have been a terrifying sight for the Ottomans — civilians willing to die. Lucas: It was. By May 28, the Ottoman advance had stalled. Vehib Pasha realized he couldn't take Karakilisa without heavy reinforcements, and with Sardarabad also holding, he ordered a withdrawal. The road to Tiflis was saved. Lucas: Now, here's where it gets complicated. The Treaty of Batum, signed on June 4, 1918, between the Ottoman Empire and the newly formed Armenian Republic, forced Armenia to cede huge territories — including Kars and Ardahan. So even though the battles were won, the peace was brutal. Luna: So the military victory didn't translate into a favorable political outcome. Lucas: Not immediately. The Ottomans were still in a strong position, and the Germans had their own interests in the region. But the stand at Karakilisa, along with Sardarabad and Bash Abaran, gave the Armenian Republic a breathing space. Without those victories, there simply wouldn't have been an Armenia to negotiate at Batum. Lucas: One of the most striking details I came across was a letter from an Ottoman officer after the battle. He wrote that the Armenians fought 'like men possessed' — not for any empire or king, but for their homes and families. That desperation was a real force. Luna: It's strange that Karakilisa isn't as well-known as Sardarabad. Lucas: Partly because Sardarabad was bigger in scale and more decisive in the public imagination. Also, Karakilisa was overshadowed by the chaos that followed — the Treaty of Batum, the brief British intervention, the fall of the republic in 1920. But for anyone studying the birth of modern Armenia, it's essential. Lucas: And speaking of the bigger picture — you know, we've been doing this show for a while now, covering everything from Urartu to the genocide. It's only possible because a handful of listeners chip in monthly through buy me a coffee dot com slash fexingo. That's what keeps it ad-free and allows us to dig into these lesser-known stories. Luna: Yeah, it's a small community, but it makes a real difference. We're grateful for every bit of support. Lucas: Anyway, back to Karakilisa. Another thing that stands out is the role of local women. They carried ammunition, food, and water to the front lines under fire. There's a story about a woman named Hranush who took over a machine gun when her husband was killed. Those acts of courage are part of the battle's legacy. Luna: Hranush — that's a name that deserves to be remembered. Lucas: Absolutely. And after the war, Karakilisa was renamed Vanadzor in 1935, during the Soviet era. The old name faded, but the battle's importance hasn't. If you go there today, there's a small monument, but it's not a major tourist site. Most people just pass through. Lucas: Yet for Armenians, it's a symbol of what can be achieved when a people refuse to surrender. In the wider context of World War I, it's a footnote. But for Armenia, it's a foundational moment. Luna: So what happened to Silikyan and Nzhdeh after the battle? Lucas: Silikyan remained in Soviet Armenia and died in 1937, likely a victim of Stalin's purges. Nzhdeh went into exile, then returned during World War II, was arrested by the Soviets, and died in prison in 1955. Both of them lived complicated lives, but their role in 1918 is undeniable. Lucas: I think the lesson of Karakilisa is that history isn't just about the big names and the big battles. Sometimes it's about a handful of desperate people at a crossroads, refusing to give up. Luna: And those stories are worth telling.