Negative stereotypes about Armenians are present in the majority of mass media outlets in Azerbaijan. Those stereotypes are somewhat shared by the public, and they definitely do not come out of nowhere. Stereotypical opinions circulating in the mass media have their deep roots in the public consciousness.
The use of familiar, commonly used clichés is particularly frequent when already fragile relations deteriorate as a result of high tensions between nations, especially after a failed round of negotiations between the states, the Armenian Diaspora’s active involvement in the processes or clashes on the frontline. In a nutshell, the reflections of these cyclic deteriorations between countries are usually followed in the media by the actualization of conventional perceptions.
Stereotypes most often encountered in the media about Armenians either demonize them by accusing them of all troubles that occurred between the countries or downplay their importance, trying to illustrate how minuscule their position and role could be against a morally right party, (i.e., the Azerbaijanis). As an outcome of my observations, I would list stereotypes of Armenians in the national mass media under four general titles: “Armenians are untrustworthy,” “Armenians are liars,” “Armenians have no culture of their own” and Armenians are cowards.”
For those who still cling to the past, the dogma of “Armenians are untrustworthy” is still of paramount importance. This attitude panders to the general perception that Armenians were “traitors and stabbed Azerbaijan in the back” and is supported by going back to the history and dredging up old stories. This kind of evaluation aims to prove that Azerbaijanis are morally right, because they were deceived and forced out of their lands by Armenians who in their turn used every possible way to achieve their dream of “Greater Armenia.” Particularly, advocates of this hawkish line in the national policy towards Armenia cite this argument to propose the meaninglessness of negotiations in terms of the restoration of Azerbaijan’s territorial integrity.
The stereotype about “Armenians lying” essentially refers to the perceived fallacy of the Armenian narrative of history. History is the most controversial and sensitive aspect of the current relations between the nations. That is the reason why folks are more receptive to this stereotype in Azerbaijan. The ongoing war of information also contributed to growing skepticism in whatever told or claimed by Armenians.
Another widespread and commonly accepted stereotypical argument is that “Armenians have no culture of their own.” Media is heavily involved in the “cultural dispute” with Armenians and reflects the prevailing view that Armenians imitated Azerbaijani culture and now unjustifiably claim it as their own. The sameness of music, dances, musical instruments and so forth breeds an endless, fiery debate around this topic. My assumption is that the newly materialized national independence (as is the case in both Azerbaijan and Armenia) demands exclusively specific heritage and products to consolidate and distinguish itself. At this stage of development of both nations and under the existing conditions of relations, any commonality in virtues peculiar to both of them is incompatible with newly realized national identities and therefore unacceptable to them.
When it comes to the current state of affairs, the media tries to strip Armenians of any positive characteristics they may have, among them claiming that “Armenians are cowards.” In other words, in the possible reemergence of war, they would not be able to resist the Azerbaijanis militarily. There is a traditional saga of previous heroism of Azerbaijani Turks throughout history and Armenians’ subjugation by Turks for centuries. This kind of evaluation of the nation’s qualities or capacities in a historical context targets at the audience comprised of folks who exclude the solution of the Nagorno-Karabakh conflict via negotiations and diplomacy in the current course of processes. It is not a coincidence that there is a deep popular conviction in Azerbaijan that the war was, in fact, fought against the Russians and Armenia’s temporary occupation of Nagorno-Karabakh and its surrounding districts is the consequence of direct Russian involvement.
There is an ongoing conflict between the two nations. Therefore, expectations regarding the immediate eradication of those stereotypes in the mass media of Azerbaijan (as well as Armenia) are at best an illusion. Besides, deep entrenched views can change by communicating, building a dialogue and sharing points of view — in brief, by letting the other party sense your existence and see the other side of the coin. What is obvious today is that neither the disturbing fact of failing negotiations nor the lack of communication (or more correctly, non-communication) contributes to the dwindling of the basis for growing misconceptions in public opinion.
My general observations of the national media should not be understood as utter generalization of thoughts circulating in it. Definitely, not all media groups are typically one-sided or overblown with their portrayal of certain facts.
But the bottom line is that an exaggerated negative image of the people on the other side of the frontline compounds the conflict even more. Sooner or later, both nations will come to terms with the reality of living together. I just hope we ultimately hold this truth dearer in our deeds….
Armenian Stereotypes
By SERLI POLATOGLU
What comes to mind when someone asks you to picture an “Armenian?” Is it big noses, profuse amounts of body hair, and that certain je ne sais quoi that suggests fresh-off-the-boat origins? Probably not. Because most of you reading this are Armenian and would be offended by such a stereotype.
But answer me this– when I ask you to picture a parskahye, do you automatically think garmir pilav and khormesabsi? People with an inexplicable love for Persians and Arabic?
How about Hayastancis? Do the boisterous images of Ed Hardy fill your mind as the smell of the latest D&G cologne leaves behind a disorienting haze? Do you automatically think of Beemers and the word “aper” popping up regularly in conversation?
If you answered “yes” to any of the preceding questions, you, my friend, are a perpetrator of prejudice. You have successfully bolstered stereotypes just as hurtful as the one I first put forth.
There are roughly 10 million Armenians in the world, about 3 million of which actually live in the motherland. The vast majority of Armenians, through relocations and moves after the genocide, have laid down roots in the Diaspora.
You would think that the deep cultural scars and similar ethnic traditions the Armenians of the Diaspora hold near and dear would be enough to bind us all together. Unfortunately, time and time again, I find that the prejudices Armenians perpetuate against one another often win out over the supposed cultural fraternity.
Growing up I was taught that there was “Strength in Unity,” but I rarely saw this idiom being put to practice. I experienced firsthand the kind of divisions and self-hate Armenians are sadly so adept at perpetuating.
As you can probably tell by my last name, I’m an Armenian whose ancestors took refuge in Turkey after the genocide. Though, technically speaking, I’m a first-generation American, I had never considered myself anything other than Armenian growing up. And yet, throughout the years, the “oglu” in my last name often spurred hurtful reactions from my peers.
I first recognized the prejudice against what most people would label “bolsahyes” in kindergarten. My teacher assigned the class an essay on the etymology of their last names. The paper was to be entitled, “My name is _______ian.” I raised my hand, and asked what I should do. Clearly, my name didn’t end in the typical “ian” or “yan.” She told me I should change my last name to “Polatian” for the purposes of this assignment.
When I went home and told my parents about the essay, they were incensed by my teacher’s reaction. They explained to me that a person’s name is the most singular representation of their identity – it binds them to their culture.
The fact that my teacher asked me to change my identity to conform to some stupid idea of a typical Armenian was reprehensible.
But it wasn’t just my name that generated hate – it was the language I spoke. Some people went so far as to call me a Turk for being able to speak Turkish. That always struck a nerve.
Yet, that isn’t to say some Armenians weren’t deserving of this reputation –some of my classmates reveled in their family’s connection to Turkey and claimed to love the Turkish culture as their own. Don’t misunderstand me – I’m not condoning this type of ignorance either, but the fact that so many of us turn to divisions and separation in times like these alludes to a dim future.
It’s not just bolsahyes that have to deal with prejudice - virtually every Armenian is now associated with some type of defining stereotype. Upon meeting another Armenian, the first question we often find ourselves asking them is, “What kind of Armenian are you?”
Decades ago, this question would puzzle Armenians nationwide. What kind of Armenian? What does that mean? Isn’t my being an Armenian classification enough?
Perpetuating stereotypes of “beirutsis” and “parskahyes” is chipping away at our national unity. The Armenians in the Diaspora must learn to find solace in their commonalities with others, rather than incessantly searching for the things that separate us.
Yes, we may eat different foods, and speak different dialects, and listen to different music, but isn’t this all a part of the cultural diversity that allowed Armenians to move forward in the first place?
I say we heed the advice of a very wise Gus Portokalos, and accept the fact that, though we may be apples and oranges in the eyes of some, when it comes down to it, we are all fruit.
- See more at: http://www.armenianchronicles.com/opinion-stereotypes.html#sthash.gGW4aU9A.dpuf
Armenian Stereotypes
By SERLI POLATOGLU
What comes to mind when someone asks you to picture an “Armenian?” Is it big noses, profuse amounts of body hair, and that certain je ne sais quoi that suggests fresh-off-the-boat origins? Probably not. Because most of you reading this are Armenian and would be offended by such a stereotype.
But answer me this– when I ask you to picture a parskahye, do you automatically think garmir pilav and khormesabsi? People with an inexplicable love for Persians and Arabic?
How about Hayastancis? Do the boisterous images of Ed Hardy fill your mind as the smell of the latest D&G cologne leaves behind a disorienting haze? Do you automatically think of Beemers and the word “aper” popping up regularly in conversation?
If you answered “yes” to any of the preceding questions, you, my friend, are a perpetrator of prejudice. You have successfully bolstered stereotypes just as hurtful as the one I first put forth.
There are roughly 10 million Armenians in the world, about 3 million of which actually live in the motherland. The vast majority of Armenians, through relocations and moves after the genocide, have laid down roots in the Diaspora.
You would think that the deep cultural scars and similar ethnic traditions the Armenians of the Diaspora hold near and dear would be enough to bind us all together. Unfortunately, time and time again, I find that the prejudices Armenians perpetuate against one another often win out over the supposed cultural fraternity.
Growing up I was taught that there was “Strength in Unity,” but I rarely saw this idiom being put to practice. I experienced firsthand the kind of divisions and self-hate Armenians are sadly so adept at perpetuating.
As you can probably tell by my last name, I’m an Armenian whose ancestors took refuge in Turkey after the genocide. Though, technically speaking, I’m a first-generation American, I had never considered myself anything other than Armenian growing up. And yet, throughout the years, the “oglu” in my last name often spurred hurtful reactions from my peers.
I first recognized the prejudice against what most people would label “bolsahyes” in kindergarten. My teacher assigned the class an essay on the etymology of their last names. The paper was to be entitled, “My name is _______ian.” I raised my hand, and asked what I should do. Clearly, my name didn’t end in the typical “ian” or “yan.” She told me I should change my last name to “Polatian” for the purposes of this assignment.
When I went home and told my parents about the essay, they were incensed by my teacher’s reaction. They explained to me that a person’s name is the most singular representation of their identity – it binds them to their culture.
The fact that my teacher asked me to change my identity to conform to some stupid idea of a typical Armenian was reprehensible.
But it wasn’t just my name that generated hate – it was the language I spoke. Some people went so far as to call me a Turk for being able to speak Turkish. That always struck a nerve.
Yet, that isn’t to say some Armenians weren’t deserving of this reputation –some of my classmates reveled in their family’s connection to Turkey and claimed to love the Turkish culture as their own. Don’t misunderstand me – I’m not condoning this type of ignorance either, but the fact that so many of us turn to divisions and separation in times like these alludes to a dim future.
It’s not just bolsahyes that have to deal with prejudice - virtually every Armenian is now associated with some type of defining stereotype. Upon meeting another Armenian, the first question we often find ourselves asking them is, “What kind of Armenian are you?”
Decades ago, this question would puzzle Armenians nationwide. What kind of Armenian? What does that mean? Isn’t my being an Armenian classification enough?
Perpetuating stereotypes of “beirutsis” and “parskahyes” is chipping away at our national unity. The Armenians in the Diaspora must learn to find solace in their commonalities with others, rather than incessantly searching for the things that separate us.
Yes, we may eat different foods, and speak different dialects, and listen to different music, but isn’t this all a part of the cultural diversity that allowed Armenians to move forward in the first place?
I say we heed the advice of a very wise Gus Portokalos, and accept the fact that, though we may be apples and oranges in the eyes of some, when it comes down to it, we are all fruit.
- See more at: http://www.armenianchronicles.com/opinion-stereotypes.html#sthash.gGW4aU9A.dpuf
Armenian Stereotypes
By SERLI POLATOGLU
What comes to mind when someone asks you to picture an “Armenian?” Is it big noses, profuse amounts of body hair, and that certain je ne sais quoi that suggests fresh-off-the-boat origins? Probably not. Because most of you reading this are Armenian and would be offended by such a stereotype.
But answer me this– when I ask you to picture a parskahye, do you automatically think garmir pilav and khormesabsi? People with an inexplicable love for Persians and Arabic?
How about Hayastancis? Do the boisterous images of Ed Hardy fill your mind as the smell of the latest D&G cologne leaves behind a disorienting haze? Do you automatically think of Beemers and the word “aper” popping up regularly in conversation?
If you answered “yes” to any of the preceding questions, you, my friend, are a perpetrator of prejudice. You have successfully bolstered stereotypes just as hurtful as the one I first put forth.
There are roughly 10 million Armenians in the world, about 3 million of which actually live in the motherland. The vast majority of Armenians, through relocations and moves after the genocide, have laid down roots in the Diaspora.
You would think that the deep cultural scars and similar ethnic traditions the Armenians of the Diaspora hold near and dear would be enough to bind us all together. Unfortunately, time and time again, I find that the prejudices Armenians perpetuate against one another often win out over the supposed cultural fraternity.
Growing up I was taught that there was “Strength in Unity,” but I rarely saw this idiom being put to practice. I experienced firsthand the kind of divisions and self-hate Armenians are sadly so adept at perpetuating.
As you can probably tell by my last name, I’m an Armenian whose ancestors took refuge in Turkey after the genocide. Though, technically speaking, I’m a first-generation American, I had never considered myself anything other than Armenian growing up. And yet, throughout the years, the “oglu” in my last name often spurred hurtful reactions from my peers.
I first recognized the prejudice against what most people would label “bolsahyes” in kindergarten. My teacher assigned the class an essay on the etymology of their last names. The paper was to be entitled, “My name is _______ian.” I raised my hand, and asked what I should do. Clearly, my name didn’t end in the typical “ian” or “yan.” She told me I should change my last name to “Polatian” for the purposes of this assignment.
When I went home and told my parents about the essay, they were incensed by my teacher’s reaction. They explained to me that a person’s name is the most singular representation of their identity – it binds them to their culture.
The fact that my teacher asked me to change my identity to conform to some stupid idea of a typical Armenian was reprehensible.
But it wasn’t just my name that generated hate – it was the language I spoke. Some people went so far as to call me a Turk for being able to speak Turkish. That always struck a nerve.
Yet, that isn’t to say some Armenians weren’t deserving of this reputation –some of my classmates reveled in their family’s connection to Turkey and claimed to love the Turkish culture as their own. Don’t misunderstand me – I’m not condoning this type of ignorance either, but the fact that so many of us turn to divisions and separation in times like these alludes to a dim future.
It’s not just bolsahyes that have to deal with prejudice - virtually every Armenian is now associated with some type of defining stereotype. Upon meeting another Armenian, the first question we often find ourselves asking them is, “What kind of Armenian are you?”
Decades ago, this question would puzzle Armenians nationwide. What kind of Armenian? What does that mean? Isn’t my being an Armenian classification enough?
Perpetuating stereotypes of “beirutsis” and “parskahyes” is chipping away at our national unity. The Armenians in the Diaspora must learn to find solace in their commonalities with others, rather than incessantly searching for the things that separate us.
Yes, we may eat different foods, and speak different dialects, and listen to different music, but isn’t this all a part of the cultural diversity that allowed Armenians to move forward in the first place?
I say we heed the advice of a very wise Gus Portokalos, and accept the fact that, though we may be apples and oranges in the eyes of some, when it comes down to it, we are all fruit.
- See more at: http://www.armenianchronicles.com/opinion-stereotypes.html#sthash.gGW4aU9A.dpuf