Minas Bouloutian, my late and beloved father-in-law, was born before the turn of 
the century in a mountain area on the outskirts of Bitlis.  Bitlis is located near 
Van and Moush and many of the great Armenian heroes we read, sing and tell stories 
about, came from this area.

Young Minas came to know most of these men because his home became a haven for 
them whenever they were passing through.  At the age of nine, he was running guns 
and supplies to encampments in the surrounding Bingol mountain area.  Some of his 
recollections were happy and some were sad.  Of all the Zoravars he spoke of, he 
seemed to like Serop Pasha the most because he remembered him as being kind and 
gentle.  He was more subdued when he spoke of Kevork Chavoosh because he 
remembered him as having a volatile and unpredictable temperament.  The saddest 
of his recollections were for the many Zoravars who were betrayed to the Turks by 
Armenians.  And the saddest of all these was of Serop Pasha, whom he claimed was 
betrayed and poisoned by a trusted friend.

Unfortunately, when we glean through the accounts of our past and when we pay 
homage to our early martyrs, we do not record all of the morbid details.   We 
do not record the sound of the guns firing or the odors left by the sulfur of the 
black powder smoke spewing out of obsolete muzzle leaders.  There are minimal 
descriptions of the decaying, dehumanized abandoned bodies or the tortured screams
of innocent victims and the agonizing silence of the merciful deaths that followed. 
All that remains is that little sterilized piece of eroded residue we call, 
“History.”  And perhaps for the sake of reverence, that’s the way it should be.

Those who survived the monstrous carnage of those massacres, carried the burden 
of all those first hand recollections of sight, sound, smell, and agony for the 
remainder of their lives.  My father-in-law, as with all of the survivors from 
that period, hated the Turk with a vengeance and he had good reason to feel as 
he did.  Pop also held a deep-seated resentment toward all of our old-line 
politicals.  Everytime they did something that created more dissension and 
division among our people, he would feel betrayed and become very angry.  And 
when Pop became angry, he would curse in Armenian, Turkish, Kurdish, and broken 
English, without taking a breath.


All of the old-timers had a unique way of communicating their feelings and Minas 
was no exception.  When he wanted to make a point, he would cite an example.  The 
one that stands out most in my mind was the example he used regarding Jesus when 
He rode into Jerusalemn on an ass.  The reason this stands out in my mind is 
because of all the unnecessary pain and suffering our religious and political 
leaders have been imposing on our people.

He would say, “Hisoos Chrisdos-eh esh-oon Khoask hahs-koo-tzootz, payts mer 
Hye-oatz Chee gur-tzuv.”  (Jesus Christ was able to make a jackass understand, 
but our Armenians couldn’t.)


Joseph Vosbikian