By Marineh Khachadour

 She stands tall atop a hill overlooking Yerevan, the capital of Armenia.

A grey statue of a woman - a stern look chiseled onto her face, a sword in her hands. A Soviet era man's vision of the spirit of my people - Mother Armenia - a woman, the mother of us all, who is guarding the "fatherland."

One of the few female images (all of them fictional) on public display throughout the country, she was installed (and confined) on the pedestal on which the statue of Stalin was perched fourteen years prior. If she appears a bit dark, cold, and distanced, it is because of the path she has crossed and the heavy load of challenges she is yet to overcome. Her story is one of a survivor.

In the museum space inside, she houses mementos of wars fought and won by Armenian men. In the name of the fatherland they have killed and died.  Although they have expanded the borders of our homeland through many heroic battles, "Armenia from sea to sea" remains a thing of the past, a dream we are told to dream, an unrealized desire which all Armenians are expected to embrace. It is considered unpatriotic and unconscionable that a "true" Armenian may not want the same.

I don't know exactly when and why this became a national characteristic, but I dare to speculate that having lost a considerable size of our land through genocide and all has left deep scars on the psyche of our people and has left the egos of our proud men wounded and defeated, casting a dark shadow over the spirit of the Armenian people.

Territoriality drives the male anima. Power over as opposed to power within is his mode of operation. The more he acquires, the more powerful he feels. What he cannot have, he wills to control. What he cannot control, he opts to demean and degrade. What has lost meaning and value is worthless and can be abandoned or destroyed.

In their quest for the ideal historic land, Armenian men have deemed Armenia, in her present shape and form, incomplete and unable to fulfill their desires. As such, she (Armenia) deserves to be neglected, humiliated, used and abused.

To some, she is an irreverent woman - rocky, thorny, and unmanageable. To others, she is the aging mother - old, rigid, and suffocating. Yet others view her as a rich benefactor, perhaps an aunt, and don't hesitate to use her in any way possible in order to line the walls of the mansions they erect with gold. Regardless, like a soldier dwelling on the periphery, like a fence guarding the property of its owners, standing tall in time and space, she keeps a watchful eye.

She sets an example for Armenian women who from a young age are taught to devote themselves to their homes and families and back their men fearlessly at all cost. We do so proudly and humbly. Regardless of age, education, class, and status, we see it as our primary responsibility to protect our men and their possessions the same way she guards the aspirations and the achievements of our fathers, brothers, husbands, and sons.

We go on to bear children and wish for a son or two to appease our husbands and their mothers. We serve them hand and foot and hope to make our own parents proud for raising humble daughters. And for this they sing our laurels. They write poems and songs. They make masterful toasts to the "beautiful sex" at any given opportunity just as they do to Mother Armenia. And then they go away physically and emotionally.

Earning a living at all cost is their primary responsibility, and we allow them to drift far and free. We accept this, and they expect nothing less even if the reality calls for other alternatives. In their absence, we continue to be dutiful wives, mothers, sisters, and daughters. We hold the fort.

Any attempt to voice our needs and concerns or to dare have a dream of our own is reprimanded by the women closest to our lives: our mothers and our mothers-in-law - the first line of defense against such "foreign" ideas and attitudes that threaten to break up a sacred Armenian family.

The second line of defense arrives with verbal threats and physical abuse. He returns home for nourishment only and has no interest or time for familial nuisance. His responsibility is to get rid of it as expeditiously as possible so that he may leave again and not feel guilty about doing so. The fastest way to accomplish this goal, of course, is the use of force. He has no patience for lengthy talks with a complaining wife.

The third line of defense from a woman who is vocal and tries to take her fate into her own hands is the media and socially sanctioned displays of rough, demeaning, vulgar language that objectify women. Modern day serials on Armenian TV provide an insight.

Furthermore, dismissive attitudes towards women's issues by men in power are prevalent at all levels of government. Mandates by the United Nations are agreed to, signed, and documented but do not lead to significant changes in real life. Everything from paperwork to funds can be skillfully fabricated or hidden in the system to satisfy the needs of those in charge.

In addition, educated, intelligent men allow themselves to go on record announcing that women do not have the mental powers to deal with complex political issues, and women representatives in the National Assembly are often silenced by their male colleagues.  Women can participate only if they play by the rules that men establish. Some do. It is a choice.

However, regardless of what we do and how high we move in the world, Armenian women are always deemed lacking if we fail to be the efficient housewife who caters to the needs of her extended family without a whimper, a demand, and a complaint, or if we happen to dream a dream different than our male partners.

While nature counterbalances the masculine power through the feminine force, civilization, has shifted the natural balance by favoring the masculine over the feminine through education (advocating his story), religion (reverence to male Gods), and government (propagating competition, control, and territoriality.)

Modern societies around the globe recognize this and aim to remedy and restore the balance. Some look toward indigenous cultures and adopt their more balanced practices. Others pass laws and advocate for women's rights.Yet others embrace universal laws and search for truth. Some do it more successfully than others.

Having endured through male civilization, stripped from her creative essence, and confined to a role of a guardian and a caretaker on a pedestal that was intended for a tyrant, in reality, Mother Armenia as the spirit of the Armenian people is a confluence of both the masculine and the feminine forces that beg to be balanced."

Perhaps we can just entertain the feminine perspective that the patch of earth we step on is sacred regardless of its size, and that all of her children, and not just the more desirable ones, deserve to be clothed, healthy, happy, and educated.

Perhaps we can recognize that the lives and thoughts of our daughters are just as important as those of our sons, and we may teach our children, including the males, to treat all people with respect regardless of gender, race, creed, status, and wealth.

Perhaps we may allow women the creative freedom to be themselves while young, so that they may grow old gracefully, reinventing themselves through the dreams of the future generations.

Perhaps we may listen and admit that women may actually know something about how to bring about change through love, forgiveness, and healing, and not by the sword, vengeance, and destruction.

It is time to turn another page in Armenian history. It is time to rethink the image of Mother Armenia as of a woman who is respected and valued not only for her role as a guardian and a caretaker of the "fatherland," but as the creator of us all. It is time to leave the pedestal behind and propel her into the future of freedom and creativity.

A good place to start would be to mobilize our tools of civilization - education, religion, and government - to reimagine the role and the responsibilities of Armenian women in the family and all spheres of public life. 

Marineh Khachadour is an educator, writer, researcher working in a public school in Pasadena, California.  She immigrated to the United States from Armenia in 1980 and returned to live and work in Armenia from 1992-1998. During that time she provided educational services and resources for Armenian women and children including refugees and served as Gender in Development Expert with UNDP, Armenia from 1995-1998.