Symbolic Gestures, Empty Resolutions

I must be the only Armenian to agree with President Bush: I don’t think the U.S. should acknowledge and denounce the Armenian genocide.

The House of Representatives voted, as a “symbolic gesture,” to acknowledge the event that has up until the present been referred to as a “mass killing,” or some equally evasive euphemism. When the attempt at a resolution was announced, this gesture won America points with almost everyone except some Turkish politicians and protesters. Anyone with historical knowledge of the event applauded Nancy Pelosi for pushing the resolution; human rights supporters were thrilled. Could you believe it? The U.S. was sticking up for the underdog—to their own detriment! At last, an ethical stance was being adopted by U.S. officials. Even Christopher Hitchens endorsed it—it seemed almost too good to be true.

It was, in fact, too good to be true. The declaration means nothing. Amid the discussion about Turkey getting in the way of America’s ongoing war, no one stopped to think about the language used and what a “symbolic gesture” actually symbolizes.

By characterizing a condemnation of genocide as a mere “symbol,” America aimed to appease Turkish officials who, when angered, could easily threaten to retaliate by making the passage to Iraq difficult for U.S. troops. By “recognizing” the genocide, America also wanted to pacify Armenians who have pushed for the genocide’s recognition for decades and have felt marginalized by America’s Holocaust obsession. But what does a gesture that is openly described as merely symbolic really mean? Will this explicitly symbolic gesture still have an impact for those who actually care about what happened? I can only speak for myself, but I am certain that the more others think about it, the more they will realize how empty of a symbol this is. Like witty political statements on T-shirts or bumper stickers, like starlets finding Jesus, it’s just for show.

Take an obvious parallel scenario: imagine President Ahmadinejad coming out and telling Jewish people that he acknowledges the Holocaust and condemns the Nazis for killing millions of Jews. Then picture him telling his hard-line allies, who he needs to maintain his status as the world’s premier anti-Zionist, that this was a “non-binding” and “symbolic” statement. Finally, imagine Mahmoud making it clear that he was only telling his cronies that it was symbolic so that he could stay out of trouble with the Jews and the rest of the world. Sounds terrible, doesn’t it? Now reconsider the current situation.

There have been sincere and important political symbols in the past. Nikita Khrushchev’s denunciation of his predecessor Stalin in 1958 was meaningful: it symbolized the end of Stalinism and its purges in Soviet Russia, and enabled the Thaw. John F. Kennedy’s famous “Ich bin ein Berliner” line, in context, was symbolic: it stood for the end of the Cold War (and an affinity for jelly doughnuts). These political symbols were important because they signified a change in attitude—had Khruschchev continued to slaughter innocent Russians, we would look back at his Secret Speech in disgust, not relief. And this is precisely why I find the attempted condemnation of the Armenian genocide so morally reprehensible: it indicates no turning point in America’s actions, and will not change a thing.

It goes without saying that a House resolution cannot change the past, but my concern is that it will not change the future. Symbols like these are nothing more than token gestures, meaningless nods, and political tools, containing no genuine regret, empathy, or solidarity. Call it what you like, but over a million people died between 1915 and 1918 and they happened to be Armenian. What’s done is done and the important thing is to stop it from occurring again—regardless of whether it’s in Armenia, Darfur, or Iraq. And this requires one thing above all else: commitment. This does not mean preaching empty statements at your allies in an attempt to gain the moral upper hand, then reassuring them that you did it only symbolically. Commitment to a cause—condemning genocide—does not mean having your cake and eating it, too.

I realize the resolution was not proposed maliciously and the intentions behind it were probably good ones. But it was also a naive, silly move that was unfair both to Armenia as a genocide victim seeking an acknowledgment of the atrocities it has gone through and to a supposed ally facing a serious European identity crisis and geographical exploitation. Of course Turkey should face the facts about its past—it’s about time. But is it really fair to act as though Turkey needs America to help it come to terms with Turkey's own history? This kind of moral imperialism only exacerbates the ever-present double standards of American foreign policy.

An empty resolution is not the right way to respond to the mass killings. Symbolically denouncing a genocide means nothing. If America is ready to moralize at its allies, perhaps it should set a commendable precedent first. When opposing the resolution, President Bush said the circumstances are too complicated and the timing is bad—that America cannot address this situation right now. And for once, he was absolutely right.

Atossa Abrahamian is a Columbia College senior majoring in philosophy. The Children of Marx and Coca Cola runs alternate weeks.
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