Armenians Read Message in Vandalism

It began as a simple gathering of friends but ended eerily when the last guest arrived anxious and shaken. Come see what has happened to your cars, he said in disbelief.

Less than 30 feet from where they were playing a raucous game of cards, their five parked cars had been viciously vandalized--acid dumped on the paint, tires slashed. Odd as it was, at least three other cars were vandalized in Glendale in identical fashion that same week in February.

Although they live in separate neighborhoods, the eight victims share a single trait. All are Armenian immigrants working as editors or writers for Glendale-based Armenian newspapers, leading victims and police to suspect that the attacks are more than mere coincidence--and possibly part of an organized campaign to punish them for their outspoken political views.

“At first it seemed to me this was the business of teenagers,” said Krikor Shenian, whose Oldsmobile Cutlass was trashed while parked outside the office of the newspaper he edits. “But when I started getting calls from my friends, we thought these were not teenagers. This was political.”

Shenian and other victims believe the articles they publish--especially those supporting Armenia’s controversial president--have won them enemies as the political tensions of their homeland haunt them halfway around the globe.

“There is every possibility that these vandalisms are the result of political frustrations between parties related to certain events in Armenia,” said professor Dennis R. Papazian, who teaches Armenian and Russian history at the University of Michigan, Dearborn.

“The victims all had in common the fact that they support the president. It is entirely logical to suspect that those who don’t support him are making their opinions known” by vandalizing cars, he said.

Tensions within Glendale’s Armenian American community are rooted in history and the current turmoil in their homeland 7,200 miles away. Armenian President Levon Ter-Petrossian was democratically elected in October 1991 amid rising violence and economic hardship.

But five years after the country wrested independence from the collapsing Soviet Union, many of its 3.5 million people go hungry and cold as a civil war rages and trade embargoes imposed by Muslim neighbors continue.

Over the past century, hundreds of thousands of Armenians fled to the Middle East, Europe and the United States. More of them settled in Glendale than in any other city in the West, and even second- and third-generation Armenian Americans maintain strong ties to their homeland, experts say.

So, many were angry when Ter-Petrossian banned the long-standing opposition group Armenian Revolutionary Federation, or Dashnak, in December 1994 in a push for stability and peace.

The party found fertile ground for growth in the United States with its unbending campaign for democracy and thirst for revenge against the Ottoman Turks, who killed as many as 1.5 million Armenians over ethnic tensions between 1915 and 1923. Membership has become an integral part of the local Armenian American community and most members here denounce Ter-Petrossian.

A spokesman in the local Dashnak office refused to comment for this article.

But Armenian Americans who have fallen out with the ARF accuse the group of moving away from democracy toward socialism. And many are convinced that those tensions have boiled over beyond words and opinions to vandalism.

Sarkis Majarian, whose Toyota Tercel was vandalized last month in Glendale, said, “We are not against the president of Armenia. We don’t agree with everything he does, but we try to be understanding. Some people think we should come forward against him.

“This is not a personal crime, this is political,” continued Majarian, who writes for and prints the newspaper Nor Gyank, or New Life. “They don’t like the things we write, and maybe this is the way they are sending us their message.”

Majarian said his tires have been slashed three times. Other victims said they have been stalked. Others reported receiving threatening phone calls.

“They’ve called me to say, ‘You should be aware for your life,’ ” said George Apelian, a regular contributor to New Armenia and the host of the party where the five cars were vandalized. “They are coming after us because of what we are writing.”

Apelian and other victims offer little more than convincing testimony to support their claims that the vandalism is politically motivated. They have no physical evidence linking the car damage to their political foes, police and other experts stress.

Glendale police investigated the incidents, which caused about $3,000 damage to each car, but with no witnesses or concrete leads, they have been classified as malicious mischief.

“This is highly unusual, this type of intra-group hostility,” said Chahe Keuroghelian, spokesman for the Glendale police and an Armenian immigrant himself. “This seems like a lot more than personal problems. To go to the extent of slashing tires and throwing acid--we have never seen anything like this here.”

Police advised the victims to get car alarms and to be more aware of their surroundings.

Richard H. Dekmejian, a USC professor of political science who studies Armenian affairs, warned against jumping to conclusions when dealing with such a potentially explosive issue.

“There is a whole menu of possible culprits for these crimes,” Dekmejian said. “There is not enough information to go on here. Unless you have proof, you don’t accuse anyone of anything.

“But,” he continued, “if I had to guess, I would think that this has something to do with personal antagonisms as well as differences of opinion about developments in the Armenian republic.”

Harut Sassounian, a Glendale-based editor of an Armenian weekly whose car has not been vandalized, said his colleagues are not without blame.

“They are not as careful as they could be about printing provocative things,” Sassounian said. “I am not excusing these violent acts, but words have meanings. They have consequences. There is no doubt that the strong words they have used elicit a reaction.”

Despite the possibility of danger, those who have been victimized have said they resisted the urgings of friends to buy guns or change what they say for safety’s sake. They know there is little they can do but repair their cars and continue speaking and writing what they believe to be true.

“When I saw my car, I just laughed,” said Vahan Jansezian, publisher and editor of the New Armenia daily. “What can I do if these people are coming after me like this? This is not the worst thing that can happen to me.”

But several have asked what might happen if, the next time, they catch someone vandalizing their cars. They wonder whether the acid or knives will be turned on them instead. “This is civilized terror,” Majarian said. “It is only our cars they have damaged. So far.”