The town of Ainjar in 1939
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Heroic resistance at Musa Dagh
The town of Musa Dagh in today’s Hatay Province is really six villages in one, lined up along the sunny Mediterranean coast. In late July of 1915 local residents received official orders from the Turkish government to prepare for mass deportation. As residents of the last Armenian villages on the road south to Syria, the villagers learned from Armenian soldiers who had escaped form the Ottoman army that “deportation” was a code word: it really meant that the men would be shot and their women and children would be left to die of rape and starvation on a march through the Syrian desert to concentration camps where the survivors were left to rot and perish of disease.
The elders and religious leaders of the six villages convened and debated their options – and there weren’t many choices, given the fact that they didn’t possess enough arms and warriors to fight the Turks. The next day, 1,300 of the villagers opted for deportation (most of them were eventually massacred), while the majority, some 4,100 Armenians of all ages, began their climb up the mountain where they put up a resistance so daring and brave that it was immortalized by the Austrian Jewish novelist Franz Werfel in his best-selling novel “The Forty Days of Musa Dagh,” a book that later served as inspiration for the Jewish resistance in Europe during World War II.
The Armenians, Karakashian’s ancestors among them, held out against Turkish attacks from late July to mid-September: “My grandmother used to tell me that at the end of the third attack, some of the Armenian fighters were retreating while the Turks were advancing and getting nearer to the camp. A handful of warriors were holding their ground. An elderly priest called the people together and told them to follow him to the sea to drown themselves with dignity, instead of getting raped, tortured or massacred by the Turks. That’s what they were doing when their warriors rushed down the mountain to the seashore and yelled: ‘Don’t do it, don’t do it. The enemy ran away!!’ The sudden change was due to the retreated warriors’ remorse. They had regrouped and rammed the Turkish ranks with force, pushing them back in disarray,” says Mher.
In fact, the Armenians were saved in large part because they had instructed their women to sew two flags from bed sheets — one with a red cross woven on it and a second that read “Christians in danger,” which they planted on the slopes of the mountain overlooking the sea.
They hoped that allied French and British battleships, which used to cross that portion of the sea, would notice the flag.
That’s exactly what happened on September 7, when the crew of a French battleship noticed the red cross flag. A swimmer approached the ship, carrying a letter that described the Armenians’ perilous situation. Vice-admiral Louis Dartige du Fournet, the ship’s commander, gave the Armenians some ammunition and weapons and promised to help. He telegraphed the French High Command to obtain permission to help the Armenians. But before hearing back from official channels, du Fournet leapt into action, called four more battleships and on September 12, began to single-handedly evacuate the Musa Daghtis. Du Fournet insisted that even the Armenian fighters had to come, although they had asked for only their families to be saved.
Port Saïd and beyond
The French ships carried the Armenian refugees to Port Saïd in Egypt, where a camp had already been prepared. They remained there for around four years before being taken back to their villages, where they stayed until 1939, when Turkey annexed the northwestern part of Syria, including Musa Dagh and its surroundings.
The French gave the Armenians the option to remain or to relocate to the French Protectorate of Lebanon, which they chose to do rather than suffer again at the hands of the Turks. “This is how my grandparents made it to Ainjar,” notes Mher, “to a former swampland dotted with Roman and Ummayyad ruins.” In spite of malaria and other diseases that the Armenians of Ainjar faced, they survived and built a prosperous community. Perhaps anticipating William Saroyan’s now famous (if overused) quotation*, they formed a New Armenia of sorts, where they transplanted all of their traditions — religious, culinary, linguistic and others.