ABOUT THE AZERI GENOCIDE

Numerous acts of genocide against Azerbaijanis, which for many years did not receive its deserved political and legal assessment, is one of the secret pages of our history.

After the Republic of Azerbaijan regained its independence, it has become possible to renew the objective picture of the past history of our nation. The truth which for many years was kept back, is getting disclosed and misinterpreted events are getting their real value.

The Gulustan and Turkmenchay agreements signed in 1813 and 1828 provided the legal ground for the partition of the nation of Azerbaijan and division of its historical lands. The occupation of the lands continued the national tragedy of Azerbaijan people. Within a short time, gross settlement of Armenians in the territories of Azerbaijan has begun. The occupation of Azerbaijani territories became an integral part of the genocide.

Armenians moved to Yerevan, Nakhchivan and Karabakh khanates have achieved to establish their administrative territorial unit of Armenian region despite their minority as compared to Azerbaijanis residing in the same area. This artificial division provided political reasons for the removal and annihilation of Azerbaijanis in their native lands. This was followed by propaganda of the establishment of the Great Armenia. In order to ensure the exculpation of the idea to establish this fictitious state in the territory of Azerbaijan, a wide-scale programme, aimed at the falsification of the national history of Armenians, was started. The distortion of the history of Azerbaijan and the whole Caucasus, formed an integral part of this programme.

The Many Forms of Heroism

It was a beautiful house – 2 storeys – with grape vines that climbed over the balconies.... Address? We didn’t have an address; everybody knew our house near the river. There was a big garden with apple, pear and plum trees, and potatoes.... my father loved boiled potatoes, and rice soup.... One of the apple trees was very small; every year it had just 3 apples, and we were three children. The apples smelled of honeydew melons and one day I took a bite out of one of them, but I left it on the tree; my father asked, ‘Why didn’t you pick it?’

Yasemen Hasanova’s eyes are bright with the memories of her childhood home. She tells of the wonderful views from the upstairs window, of gazing out at the town up on the heights in the distance – that town’s lights against the night sky were a thing of wonder to a child. They often went up there in her father’s yellow Moskvich to take long walks. It was difficult to walk anywhere in our town. My father had so many friends and was very sociable; he loved to talk. Whenever we had to go somewhere my mother asked him not to stop and talk, or we would never get there.