Apricot Battlefield

By Armine Avetisyan October 7, 2020

Source: EVN report https://www.evnreport.com/

Beyond being a primary need for life, food has multiple cultural and social meanings. We celebrate holidays and express our joy by sharing food, we mourn our losses, seek comfort and healing when in pain by sharing food. Away from home, we seek familiar tastes to comfort ourselves, trying to recreate home through the familiar flavors and products. There are multiple examples from different parts of the world showing how food helps bridge divides and reconcile communities in conflict. Recipes for Peace, an ​ ​ initiative run by International Alert, a UK-based peacebuilding organization, olive oil production ​ ​ ​ with the “taste of peace” uniting Cyprus, an Israeli cafe offering a discount to the Jews and ​ ​ Palestinians sitting at one table, Chefs for Peace, a Jerusalem-based nonprofit founded by ​ Jewish, Muslim and Christian chefs to explore diversity and multiculturalism through food, and Haven’t We Shared Much Salt and Bread, a movie exploring the intersection of food, ​ reconciliation and women’s role in grassroots peacebuilding efforts in the Turkish-Armenian context, are just a few examples.

As much as food can be used for connecting people by drawing on commonalities and shared experiences, it can also propel nationalistic sentiments and be turned into a cultural battlefield. Lebanese and Israelis fight the “Hummus War”, Turks/Azeris and fight the “Dolma ​ ​ ​ War”, while Greeks and Turks in Cyprus argue over the origin of Halloumi cheese. ​ ​ ​

UNESCO’s Intangible Cultural Heritage List from time to time fuels disputes over contested dishes between neighboring countries. For example, Armenians challenge UNESCO’s decision ​ on including “keshkek” (in Turkish) “harisa”(in Armenian) - wheat porridge with chicken on lamb, ​ ​ ​ ​ under Turkey’s list of intangible heritage.

Apart from dishes, produce also carries strong cultural connotations and is attributed to certain countries or nations. The is one of the most vivid examples of this. Apricots are considered to be one of the symbols of . The scientific name - Prunus Armeniaca ​ (meaning Armenian plum) - is often referred to as a claim of its origin being in the .

Regardless of where their origin rests, apricots in Armenia are truly delicious - rich in flavor, sweet, and juicy. You taste the sun in an apricot bite - a flavor you can find nowhere else. A bowl of apricots will quickly fill the whole kitchen with an unbelievable aroma. Diasporan Armenians plan their annual visits to the home country to catch the apricot season - which lasts not long - from late June until the end of July. The Armenian apricot is unique also for its color - tones of , yellow and pink blend to form tsiranaguyn (apricot color in Armenian). The ​ festive clothing of ancient Armenian queens and kings were called tsirani as they were of apricot ​ color. Tsiranaguyn is also on the Armenian Tricolor- the national of Armenia. The apricot ​ ​ ​ tree is a central character in folk songs, for example, in “Tsirani Tsar”. One of the most ​ ​ prominent Armenian musical instruments, duduk or tsiranapogh (meaning “apricot tree pipe”) is ​ ​ made of the apricot tree. The apricot has also given its name to the biggest international film festival in the country - Golden Apricot International Film Festival. ​ ​

I was grumbling about not being able to travel home this summer to enjoy the sunny fruit because of the pandemic when the news portals and social media got flooded with the images and videos of Armenian apricots. They had suddenly turned into a battlefield between the Azeri and Armenian diasporas in Moscow, following the skirmishes on the border between Armenia ​ and Azerbaijan in July that lasted for a few days with more than 16 casualties on both sides. ​

Subsequent to the outbreak of tension in the region, a video appeared on social media showing ​ Azeri men buying boxes of apricots imported to Moscow from Armenia and smashing them with their feet. Shortly after, Armenian importers of apricots faced closed doors to the Food City wholesale market - the major distribution center for fresh produce in Moscow. Soon allegations in social media spread that the owners of the market with Azerbaijani origins banned the entrance of Armenian fruits into the market.

Tons of ripe apricots remained on the streets to rot. But the Armenian community of Moscow was quick to mobilize to rescue this beloved fruit. A social media campaign titled “Operation ​ Apricot” was launched to announce the different locations in the city where the fruit was made available for sale right from the trucks on the streets. Within a few hours, crowds of members of the Armenian community started to line up on the streets to buy apricots. As the lines were becoming longer and people had to wait for a couple of hours to get their boxes of fruit, free food, music and dance started to spring up, turning the challenge into an improvised apricot festival. Apricots were saved, the importers were happy, Moscow Armenians got enough of the fruit for winter canning!

What’s interesting is that unlike in other food disputes, Azeris who initiated the “apricot war” seem to agree with the Armenian origin of apricots and, by their actions, eventually (though unintentionally) nurtured the sense of solidarity among the Armenians in Moscow and other parts of the world where people were following the events through live streaming on social ​ ​ media.

I wish the Nagorno-Karabakh conflict remained in the realm of apricots, dolma and keshkek... ​ ​ On September 27, 2020, Azerbaijan, backed by Turkey, launched an attack across the Nagorno-Karabakh border, leading to a full-scale war that is taking hundreds of human lives.