Antep Armenian following in the footsteps of his ancestors in the city
By Cihat Ozturk
Born in Aleppo, Syria in 1989, Keshishian identifies himself as a person from Antep: “I was born in Aleppo but I consider myself from Antep. When people asked where I was from in Aleppo, we would say ‘we are from Antep.’ I had other friends from Antep too. They used to say to me, ‘You are 18 karat Antep, we are 24 karat!’ because they were Antepi on both their mother’s and father’s sides. My mother, however, is from Sivas.”
His grandfather, who shares the same name, was born in Antep in 1913. In his diary passed down from his grandfather, it is written: “I was born in Eblahan, Antep. Somewhere near the Eyüboğlu Mosque.”
Keshishyan, who visits the city where his ancestors were born every year, despite warnings from his family to not go to Antep due to potential risks, met with us in an old Antep house. We talked to him about being from Antep and being Armenian.
Keshishian and his family still speak Turkish at home: “This is a legacy passed down to us from Antep. We see it as a cultural richness. I first came to Antep in 2015. I feel like I belong here. I believe my roots and connection are here.”
“Dad and grandpa used to say that the people of Antep have a rich and deep-rooted history,” says Keshishian, recalling his memories:
“In Aleppo, you can find books and materials about Armenians from Antep. We have kept the spirit of being from Antep alive there too. If someone in Aleppo is awake, skilled, and clever, they ask, ‘Is he from Antep?’ This is my sixth visit to Antep. I met historian and writer Murad Uçaner, and through him, I learned about the city’s history. When I first saw Kurtuluş Mosque, which used to be Surp Asdvadzadzin Church, I felt drawn to it, psychologically feeling like I belonged there. Later, I learned that my grandfather was baptized at Surp Asdvadzadzin Church in 1914.”
Keshishian, who says he feels a nostalgic melancholy with each visit to Antep, describes 1915 as follows:
“I say, if we hadn’t experienced the events of 1915, we wouldn’t have migrated to Aleppo. We wouldn’t have experienced a situation like 1915 in Aleppo either. If it weren’t for 1915, we wouldn’t have suffered due to what is happening in Syria today. And every time I come here, I also get angry with our people. I wish our ancestors had converted to Islam so we could have stayed here!
“Because we experienced trauma. We are now the fourth generation. We know my grandfather’s father, but we don’t know those before him. My grandfather was born in Antep, my father and I were born in Syria. My son was born in Armenia. Four generations, three different countries… What does it mean to change three countries in 100 years? Every time I come here, I feel a pain.”
Keshishian is the only one from his family that has been going back and forth to Antep. In fact, his mother worries every time he comes back, fearing that something might happen to him. She says things like, “Why are you going there, son? It could be dangerous. They might cause you trouble. Go to Europe instead, why are you going to Antep? It’s all in the past. Don’t reopen closed chapters.”
He says, “Bey Mahallesi attracts me. The old Armenian Quarter. I love places that smell of history. Especially when that history belongs to my family, my ancestors, and my grandfather. I don’t want to be separated from it. I would prefer to stay in Antep, to live here. I would like my son to have the spirit of Antep as well. I want him to live here just like his ancestors did.