Accounts of Anti-Armenian Human Right Violations in Azerbaijan #010                  Prelude to Current Events in Nagorno-Karabakh          +-------------------------------------------------------+         |                                                       |         | On the way the driver says, "In fact there aren't any |         | Armenians left. 'They burned them all, beat them all, |         | and stabbed them."                                    |         |							|         +-------------------------------------------------------+  DEPOSITION OF VANYA BAGRATOVICH BAZIAN     Born 1940    Foreman    Baku Spetsmontazh Administration (UMSMR-1)     Resident at Building 36/7, Apartment 9    Block 14    Sumgait [Azerbaijan]   During the first days of the events, the 27th and the 28th [of February], I was away on a business trip. On the 10th I had got my crew, done the paper- work, and left for the Zhdanov District. That's in Azerbaijan, near the Nagorno Karabagh region.  After the 14th, rumors started to the effect that in Karabagh, specifically in Stepanakert, an uprising had taken place. They said "uprising" in Azerbaijani, but I don't think it was really an uprising, just a  demonstration. After that the unrest started. Several Armenians living in the  Zhdanov District were injured. How were they injured? They were beaten, even  women; it was said that they were at the demonstrations, but they live here,  and went from here to Karabagh to demonstrate. After that I felt uneasy. There were some conversations about Armenians among the local population: the Armenians had done this, the Armenians had done that. Right there at the site. I was attacked a couple of times by kids. Well true, the guys from my crew  wouldn't let them come at me with cables and knives. After that I felt really  bad. I didn't know where to go. I up and called home. And my children tell me, "There's unrest everywhere, be careful." Well I had a project going on. I told the Second Secretary of the District Party Committee what had been going on  and said I wanted to take my crew off the site. They wouldn't allow it, they  said, "Nothing's going to happen to you, we've entrusted the matter to the  police, we've warned everyone in the district, nothing will happen to you."  Well, in fact they did especially detail us a policeman to look after me, he  knows all the local people and would protect me if something happened. This man didn't leave me alone for five minutes: he was at work the whole time and  afterward he spent the night with us, too.  I sense some disquiet and call home; my wife also tells me, "The situation is very tense, be careful."  We finished the job at the site, and I left for Sumgait first thing on the morning of the 29th. When we left the guys warned me, they told me that I shouldn't tell anyone on the way that I was an Armenian. I took someone else's business travel documents, in the name of Zardali, and hid my own. I hid it  and my passport in my socks. We set out for Baku. Our guys were on the bus,  they sat behind, and I sat up front. In Baku they had come to me and said that they had to collect all of our travel documents just in case. As it turns out  they knew what was happening in Sumgait.  I arrive at the bus station and there they tell me that the city of Sumgait is closed, there is no way to get there. That the city is closed off and the  buses aren't running. Buses normally leave Baku for Sumgait almost every two minutes. And suddenly--no buses. Well, we tried to get there via private drivers. One man, an Azerbaijani, said, "Let's go find some other way to get there." They found a light transport vehicle and arranged for the driver to take us to Sumgait.  He took us there. But the others had said, "I wouldn't go if you gave me a thousand rubles." "Why?" "Because they're burning the city and killing the Armenians. There isn't an Armenian left." Well I got hold of myself so I could still stand up. So we squared it away, the four of us got in the car, and we  set off for Sumgait. On the way the driver says, "In fact there aren't any Armenians left. 'They burned them all, beat them all, and stabbed them." Well  I was silent. The whole way--20-odd miles--I was silent. The driver asks me,  "How old are you, old man?" He wants to know: if I'm being that quiet, not  saying anything, maybe it means I'm an Armenian. "How old are you?" he asks  me. I say, "I'm 47." "I'm 47 too, but I call you 'old man'." I say, "It  depends on God, each person's life in this world is different." I look much older than my years, that's why he called me old man. Well after that he was silent, too.  We're approaching the city, I look and see tanks all around, and a cordon. Before we get to the Kavkaz store the driver starts to wave his hand. Well, he was waving his hand, we all start waving our hands. I'm sitting there with them, I start waving my hand, too. I realized that this was a sign that meant there were no Armenians with us.  I look at the city--there is a crowd of people walking down the middle of the  street, you know, and there's no traffic. Well probably I was scared. They stopped our car. People were standing on the sidewalks. They have armature  shafts, and stones . . . And they stopped us . . .  Along the way the driver tells us how they know who's an Armenian and who's  not. The Armenians usually . . . For example, I'm an Armenian, but I speak  their language very well. Well Armenians usually pronounce the Azeri word for  "nut," or "little nut," as "pundukh," but "fundukh" is actually correct. The  pronunciations are different. Anyone who says "pundukh," even if they're not  Armenian, they immediately take out and start to slash. Another one says,  "There was a car there, with five people inside it," he says. "They started  hitting the side of it with an axe and lit it on fire. And they didn't let the people out," he says, "they wouldn't let them get out of the car." I only saw  the car, but the driver says that he saw everything. Well he often drives from Baku to Sumgait and back . . .  When they stop us we all get out of the car. I look and there's a short guy, his eyes are gleaming, he has an armature shaft in one hand and a stone in the other and asks the guys what nationality they are one by one. "We're Azerbaijani,' they tell him, 'no Armenians here." He did come up to me when  we were pulling our things out and says, "Maybe you're an Armenian, old man?"  But in Azerbaijani I say, "You should be ashamed of yourself!" And . . . he  left. Turned and left. That was all that happened. What was I to do? I had  to . . . the city was on fire, but I had to steal my children out of my own  home.  They stopped us at the entrance to Mir Street, that's where the Kavkaz store  and three large, 12-story buildings are. That's the beginning of down-town. I  saw that burned automobile there, completely burned, only metal remained. I  couldn't figure out if it was a Zhiguli or a Zaporozhets. Later I was told it  was a Zhiguli. And the people in there were completely incinerated. Nothing  remained of them, not even any traces. That driver had told me about it, and I saw the car myself. The car was there. The skeleton, a metallic carcass. About 30 to 40 yards from the Kavkaz store.  I see a military transport, an armored personnel carrier. The hatches are closed. And people are throwing armature shafts and pieces of iron at it, the crowd is. And I hear shots, not automatic fire, it's true, but pistol shots. Several shots. There were Azerbaijanis crowded around that personnel carrier.  Someone in the crowd was shooting. Apparently they either wanted to kill the  soldiers or get a machine gun or something. At that point there was only one  armored personnel carrier. And all the tanks were outside the city, cordoning  off Sumgait.  I walked on. I see two Azerbaijanis going home from the plant. I can tell by  their gait that they're not bandits, they're just people, walking home. I joined them so in case something happened, in case someone came up to us and asked questions, either of us would be in a position to answer, you see. But I avoided the large groups because I'm a local and might be quickly  recognized. I tried to keep at a distance, and walked where there were fewer people. Well so I walked into Microdistrict 2, which is across from our block. I can't get into our block, but I walked where there were fewer people, so as  to get around. Well there I see a tall guy and 25 to 30 people are walking  behind him. And he's shouting into a megaphone: "Comrades, the Armenian- Azerbaijani war has begun!"  The police have megaphones like that. So they're talking and walking around  the second microdistrict. I see that they're coming my way, and turn off  behind a building. I noticed that they walked around the outside buildings,  and inside the microdistricts there were about 5 or 6 people standing on every corner, and at the middles of the buildings, and at the edges. What they were  doing I can't say, because I couldn't get up close to them, I was afraid. But  the most important thing was to get away from there, to get home, and at least find out if my children were alive or not . . .     April 20, 1988    Yerevan  		     - - - reference - - -  [1] _The Sumgait Tragedy; Pogroms against Armenians in Soviet Azerbaijan,     Volume I, Eyewitness Accounts_, edited by Samuel Shahmuradian, forward by     Yelena Bonner, 1990, published by Aristide D. Caratzas, NY, pages 158-160