Latest / The Story of Armenia: Survival Through Empires and Genocide — Fexingo History / The Defense of Van: Armenia's 1915 Uprising
Transcript
- Lucas: When we think of the Armenian Genocide, we often picture deportations into the Syrian desert, but there's another story — one of armed resistance. In the spring of 1915, in the ancient city of Van on the eastern shore of Lake Van, the Armenian population decided they would not go quietly. Luna: Van — that's deep in historic Armenia, right? The heartland of the old Vaspurakan kingdom. Lucas: Exactly. And by 1915, it had about thirty-five thousand Armenians out of a total population of roughly fifty thousand. The city was a center of Armenian culture and revolutionary activity. If you've been stepping into history with us episode by episode, you know we try to keep things useful — if today's conversation gives you something new, the way these stay ad-free is listener support, at buy me a coffee dot com slash fexingo. Luna: It's a good way to keep going. So what triggered the uprising? Lucas: Well, the Ottoman Empire entered World War I in November 1914, and soon after, the Young Turk government began accusing Armenians of siding with Russia. In early 1915, after the disastrous Ottoman defeat at Sarikamish, the paranoia intensified. The Dashnaks — the Armenian Revolutionary Federation — had actually urged loyalty to the Ottoman state, but it didn't matter. By April, orders arrived for the deportation and massacre of Van's Armenian population. Luna: So they saw the writing on the wall and decided to fight. Lucas: Yes. The local Dashnak leader, Aram Manukian — a name that comes up in some of our earlier episodes around Sardarabad — organized a defense committee. They built barricades in the Armenian quarter, dug trenches, and stockpiled arms. They had about fifteen hundred fighters, mostly irregulars — fedayee, like the guerrilla bands of the 1890s. Against them were Ottoman troops and Kurdish irregulars, maybe twelve thousand strong. Luna: That's an incredible disparity. How long did they hold out? Lucas: The siege began on April 20, 1915. For more than thirty days, the defenders held a perimeter of about four square kilometers. They had makeshift bombs, old rifles, even pistols. Women and children worked alongside fighters, carrying ammunition and tending the wounded. The fighting was brutal — street to street, house to house. The Ottoman forces used artillery and tried to set fires, but they couldn't break through. Luna: That takes incredible courage. How did it end? Lucas: On May 6, the Ottomans launched a major assault, but it was repelled. Then, on May 17, a relief force arrived: a Russian army under General Yudenich, accompanied by Armenian volunteer regiments from the Caucasus. The Ottomans retreated, and the survivors were saved — but only temporarily. The Russian army soon advanced further into Anatolia, and most of Van's Armenians left with them, fearing reprisals if they stayed. Luna: So it was a hollow victory in some ways. Lucas: In the short term, yes. By July 1915, the Russian forces withdrew, and the Ottomans returned. They massacred the few Armenians who had remained, and the city was largely destroyed. But the Van resistance had a huge symbolic impact. It proved that Armenians could fight back — and it provided a core of experienced fighters who later formed the backbone of the Armenian volunteer units and the first Republic of Armenia in 1918. Luna: What happened to Aram Manukian after that? Lucas: He became one of the founders of the Armenian Republic. In 1918, he was the de facto ruler in Yerevan during the chaotic months after the collapse of the Transcaucasian Federation. He led the defense of Yerevan itself, just weeks before Sardarabad. So the Van experience directly shaped Armenia's last stand for independence. Luna: It's amazing how those threads connect. Lucas: Absolutely. And the Van resistance also influenced international opinion. There were foreign missionaries and journalists in the city during the siege who reported on the Armenian plight. The American consul in Van, for example, wrote detailed accounts that later became part of the evidence used to condemn the genocide. So the siege wasn't just a military event — it was a cry for help that the world heard, even if it didn't act in time. Luna: I'd love to hear about the daily life of someone inside the siege. Lucas: From memoirs and reports, we know that water was scarce — the defenders dug wells inside the quarter. Food was rationed: dry bread, olives, sometimes a little meat from slaughtered animals. The Armenian church became a hospital and a shelter. Children carried messages across rooftops, because the streets were too dangerous. There's a story about a woman named Amira who made bombs from old iron pipes and gunpowder. It was a total community effort. Luna: That reminds me of the kind of resilience we saw in the Khachkar episodes — something sacred and stubborn. Lucas: Yes. And the legacy of the Van resistance lived on in the fedayee tradition. After the genocide, survivors carried that spirit into the diaspora and into Soviet Armenia. It became a part of Armenian national identity: the notion that even in the face of annihilation, you can choose to stand your ground. The siege of Van is a testament to that choice. Luna: It makes me wonder how different things might have been if more cities had resisted like that. Lucas: It's a haunting question. The Ottomans deliberately isolated communities and deported them before they could organize. Van was unusual because it had a strong Dashnak organization and a geographic position near the Russian border. But the resistance there shows that the genocide wasn't a simple slaughter — it was met with courage. And that's worth remembering.