Latest / The Story of Armenia: Survival Through Empires and Genocide — Fexingo History / The Battle of Sardarapat: Armenia’s Last Stand in 1918
Transcript
- Lucas: We’ve spent a lot of time lately looking at the shadows cast by the Genocide, from the refugee camps in Der Zor to the diplomatic salons in Paris. But there is another side to 1918, one where Armenians weren't just surviving or pleading—they were fighting for the very ground beneath their feet. Luna: And I remember you mentioning the First Republic earlier, but it feels like such a fleeting moment in history. Lucas: It was incredibly fragile, lasting only about twenty-two months. By May 1918, the situation was catastrophic. The Ottoman Empire had signed an armistice with Russia elsewhere, but here in the Caucasus, they were pushing hard toward Yerevan, intent on wiping out what remained of the Armenian political entity. Luna: So the Ottomans were still winning, even as the rest of their empire was collapsing? Lucas: Exactly. They had the momentum, the supply lines, and better equipment. The Armenian forces were a ragtag mix of demoralized troops, civilians fleeing the massacres, and students who had never held a rifle. It was essentially a last stand at a place called Sardarapat, just west of Yerevan. Luna: That sounds incredibly desperate. Lucas: It was. The commander leading the defense was Drastamat Kanayan, universally known as Dro. He was a legendary figure from the Zeytun resistance, a man who had been fighting Turks since his youth. When he took command at Sardarapat, he didn't have artillery or heavy weapons—he mostly had Maxim guns and whatever rifles could be scavenged. Luna: Did he have any actual soldiers, or was it mostly civilians? Lucas: Mostly civilians. He pulled together remnants of the regular army, but also groups like the 'Moushkets'—villagers who had fled the Hamidian massacres decades prior. There were even university students and monks who joined the line. They dug trenches in the hard earth near the village of Arevshat. Luna: I can picture them digging into that rocky soil. Lucas: Meanwhile, in Yerevan itself, the political situation was equally chaotic. Avetis Aharonian, the Minister of War, was trying to hold the government together while the Transcaucasian Sejm debated whether to surrender or fight. Aharonian was a scholar, not a soldier, but he understood that morale was everything. Luna: How did he manage to keep people motivated when defeat seemed so likely? Lucas: He used every ounce of rhetoric available. He broadcast appeals over the radio, urging citizens to defend their homes. He famously said that if they fell, the Armenian nation would cease to exist entirely. It wasn't just a military battle; it was an existential one. Luna: So the pressure on both sides must have been immense. Lucas: Unbearable. The battle started on May 21st. The Ottoman Fourth Army, led by Halil Kut Pasha, launched a massive assault. They had superior numbers and artillery. The first day was brutal. The Armenian line held, but barely. They ran low on ammunition almost immediately. Luna: What did they do when they ran out of bullets? Lucas: They used rocks. And bayonets. There are accounts of women bringing water and food to the front lines, and men using stones to break up the Ottoman formations. Dro personally moved between the trenches, encouraging his men, often standing exposed to fire to boost their courage. Luna: That level of bravery is hard to comprehend. Lucas: It is. On the second day, the Ottomans pushed harder, penetrating some of the forward positions. But then something shifted. The Armenian reserves, which included a group of young volunteers from Yerevan, counterattacked. They drove the Turks back from the captured trenches. Luna: And did the Ottomans continue to press the attack after that? Lucas: They tried on the third day, but their momentum was broken. They were suffering from supply issues and disease, and the Armenian resistance had stiffened significantly. By May 24th, the Ottoman command ordered a halt. They had failed to take Yerevan. Luna: So they actually stopped. That’s surprising given their previous advances. Lucas: It was a shock to the Ottoman high command. They expected a quick rout, not a fortress of will. However, while the battle was being won, the diplomats were losing. In Batum, the Armenian delegation was signing the Treaty of Batum with the Ottomans, ceding huge territories just days before the fighting ended. Luna: Wait, so they fought to save land that they had already legally given away? Lucas: Precisely. It was a contradiction born of desperation. The treaty was imposed under threat of further invasion. But Sardarapat proved that the Ottomans couldn't simply walk in and take what they wanted. The physical reality on the ground contradicted the paper reality in Batum. Luna: It seems like the battle validated the republic's existence more than the treaty ever could. Lucas: Absolutely. Sardarapat, along with similar victories at Bash Abaran and Karakilisa, forced the Ottomans to negotiate a new peace later that year. It secured the core of the First Republic around Yerevan and Vanadzor. Luna: But that independence didn't last long, did it? Lucas: No. By late 1920, the Bolsheviks moved in, and the Soviet Union absorbed the region. But for those twenty years, the flag flew over Yerevan because of what happened in those trenches at Sardarapat. Luna: It’s a powerful reminder of what people can achieve when they have nothing left to lose. Lucas: It really is. And it reminds us that history isn't just written by victors in grand empires, but also by those who refuse to disappear. Luna: If today felt worth a coffee to you, that's the link — buy me a coffee dot com slash fexingo. Lucas: Yeah, listener support keeps these deep dives ad-free and helps us keep researching these stories properly. Luna: And it lets us bring you more conversations like this without interruptions. Lucas: Thanks for helping us keep the archive alive. As we look back at Dro and Aharonian, we see leaders who acted not for glory, but for survival. Luna: Do you think that spirit influenced the diaspora communities later on? Lucas: I think it became part of the collective identity—a story of defiance that families passed down through generations, long after the republic fell.