By William Paparian
We will never forget the death marches, the massacres, the starvation in the desert, the erasure of an ancient people from their ancestral lands. The pursuit of justice for the Armenian nation is not merely a matter of historical correction; it is a test of moral character, both individual and collective. And in that pursuit, we face a perennial choice: fidelity to enduring principles, or the seductive lure of political expediency.
We have borne witness to the consequences of expediency. Governments, alliances, and superpowers have weighed the truth of the Genocide against strategic interests—military bases, trade deals, geopolitical leverage against common adversaries—and too often, truth has been the first casualty. The denial of our Genocide has not been merely Turkish policy; it has been enabled by silence or equivocation from those who claim to champion human rights. Phrases like “tragedy” or “events of 1915” have been substituted for the precise word “genocide,” not out of ignorance, but out of calculation. Such compromises do not bring peace; they perpetuate injustice and embolden denial.
History teaches us that principles, when upheld without compromise, yield the only lasting victories. When the United States finally recognized the Armenian Genocide in 2021, it was not because the geopolitical stars aligned perfectly. It was because enough voices—survivors’ descendants, scholars, advocates, and principled leaders—insisted that human rights cannot be subordinated to alliances or convenience. That recognition sent a powerful message: America, as a beacon of freedom, would not sacrifice moral clarity for temporary expediency.
When the President of the United States finally spoke the word “genocide”, it was not mere policy—it was a long-overdue exhale of truth, a moment when America remembered who it claims to be. It came because generations of Armenians refused to let the memory die. Because mothers told stories to children who then told them to parliaments. Because we wept, and marched, and demanded, and would not be comforted until the truth was honored. That is our power. Not armies or oil, but memory that will not bend, hearts that will not forget, voices that will not be bought. We are not just heirs to tragedy— we are heirs to defiance. When the world offers us compromise dressed as peace, remember the faces of those who never got to grow old.
Adherence to principles over expediency matters profoundly for the Armenian nation. When we accept half-measures—vague acknowledgments, closed borders in exchange for silence, or diplomatic normalization without accountability—we do not heal wounds; we allow them to fester. To trade recognition and reparation for short-term political gains is to betray not only our ancestors but the very idea that evil must be named and confronted.
Principles demand courage. They require us to stand firm even when allies waver, when lobbies pressure, when the cost seems high. But they also build strength. A nation that refuses to barter its history for favors earns respect that no concession ever could. It inspires solidarity from other victimized peoples, from scholars of conscience, from those who believe that justice is not negotiable. True reconciliation—with Turkey, with the region, with history—can only begin when truth is acknowledged unconditionally. Anything less is not reconciliation; it is capitulation.
We inherit this struggle not as a burden, but as a sacred trust. We must not let fatigue or pragmatism dull our commitment to principles over expediency. Justice for the Armenian nation will never come from half-hearted gestures or silenced truth. It will come when enough of us stand together and say: No more. Not one more compromise. Not one more forgotten grave. Principles over expediency. Because a people who forget this truth risk losing not just history, but their soul.
William Paparian is a former Mayor of Pasadena
