The Partial Observer by Gayane Torosyan
From a Cold War Veteran: Challenging Misconceptions about History
When my family and I emigrated from the former Soviet republic of Armenia to the United States in the late 1990s, we came not to dwell on victimhood or history but to build new lives. Like many immigrants, we sought roots, opportunity, and normalcy—a chance to leave behind the shadows of the past and move forward.
Yet as someone who has emerged from the other side of the Iron Curtain, I have encountered some startling misconceptions about the Soviet Union and its people during my time in the United States. One of the most egregious is the claim that “Russia” (aka the former Soviet Union) fought alongside Nazi Germany during World War II. This misrepresentation not only ignores the union of 15 republics that made up the Soviet Union—each with its own unique culture, history and language—but also disregards the devastating toll the war took on Soviet citizens.
The Cold War’s lingering stereotypes have skewed perceptions of the Soviet Union, even among intellectuals. A colleague at SUNY Oneonta, where I’ve taught since 2005, once argued that the Soviet Union was allied with Nazi Germany due to the 1939 Molotov-Ribbentrop pact, a short-lived non-aggression agreement. I reminded him of the tens of millions of Soviet citizens killed by the Nazis, including members of my own family. Less than two years after the pact, Germany invaded the Soviet Union on June 22, 1941, triggering one of history’s bloodiest conflicts. Soviet casualties reached an estimated 27 million, with 19 million civilians and 8.7 million military personnel lost. Comparatively, Germany sustained 5.3 million military deaths, primarily on the Eastern Front.
The “Big Four” Allied Forces—the United States, the United Kingdom, the Soviet Union and China—formed the backbone of the alliance that ultimately defeated the Axis powers. The collaboration among Roosevelt, Churchill, and Stalin at the Tehran, Yalta, and Potsdam conferences set the terms of this historic partnership. To suggest that the Soviet Union was a Nazi ally denies the sacrifices of millions and misrepresents history.
Another common misconception is that the Soviet Union prohibited religious practice. While Communist Party members faced repercussions for attending church, religion was not universally banned. Karl Marx’s declaration that “religion is the opium of the people” influenced Communist ideology, but churches and seminaries were preserved as cultural heritage—and, reportedly, as intelligence assets. My own family practiced Christianity without issue; my brother and I were baptized as teenagers at the Mother See of Holy Etchmiadzin, the administrative center of the Armenian Apostolic Church. The cathedral served as the seat of Vazgen I, a Romanian-born philosopher and theologian who guided the Armenian Church through the dissolution of the Soviet Union. As the first Catholicos of newly independent Armenia, Vazgen I held this venerable position until his death in 1995. The Soviets never banned him.
Lastly, many Armenians in the West assume a collective hatred of Turks stemming from the 1915 genocide. This perception is not universal. While the topic of Armenian massacres was being erased from Turkish history books, a group of 200 Turkish intellectuals launched the “I Apologize” campaign in December 2008, challenging long-standing taboos in their country. Led by Professor Ahmet İnsel, politician Baskin Oran, Dr. Cengiz Aktar, and journalist Ali Bayramoğlu, the initiative garnered 26,000 signatures and gained traction among academics, writers, and journalists who called for empathy and acknowledgment of the suffering experienced by Ottoman Armenians in 1915. The movement ignited widespread discussion and controversy, demonstrating the power of individual voices to confront sensitive historical narratives. While its impact continues to be debated in Turkey and beyond, raising questions about reconciliation and collective memory, my own family’s narrative hinges on the acts of compassion by Turkish neighbors who rescued, sheltered, and nourished my relatives during their struggle to survive that harrowing time.
Renowned American author Peter Balakian, a New Jersey native who came to embrace his Armenian heritage later in life, showed a measured disappointment regarding my enthusiasm about fostering dialogue between Armenia and Turkey. While such dialogue remains crucial, despite resistance from both sides, the broader geopolitical landscape raises questions about external influences, with Russia potentially finding strategic value in maintaining animosities against a neighboring NATO member. In essence, fostering hatred is a subtle yet insidious form of indoctrination. Collectively, we must remain vigilant against the seeds of discord that could sow the foundations of new cold—or hot—wars.
Dr. Gayane Torosyan is a professor of media studies in the Department of Communication and Media at SUNY Oneonta.