Armenia

The earthquake of December 7th, 1988 claimed thousands of lives and destroyed thousands of homes. It also had far-reaching political consequences. The relief effort that followed became a symbol of the end of the Cold War, as Western countries rushed to help their former enemy, the Soviet Union. Yet, the wide scale of damage from the earthquake and the disorganized nature of the relief effort also showed the world the degree to which the Soviet system had been plagued by corruption and inefficiency. Finally, the earthquake was followed by a crackdown on the national-democratic movement in Armenia, further eroding the trust in the Soviet system.

Ayb School is joining CNN's first ever #CallToEarth Day. Celebrating a planet worth protecting, CNN partners with schools, individuals, and organizations across the world to raise awareness of environmental issues and to engage with conservation education. Ilya Lalazaryan, a 12th-grade student at Ayb School, suggests processing the piles of facial protection items that emerged due to the coronavirus epidemic and thus solving the environmental pollution problem.

Evacuation was a mess. People had few days, some only few hours to take everything and leave. Some were just leaving, still having a hope to return. Others left without hope. Both were painful, but it was unbearable to see people burning down the homes they built themselves and lived there for decades.

What led to the Second Karabakh War, how was it different from the previous ones, and what to expect next. Regional Post’s expert Tigran Zakaryan tries to explain.

On how Covid-19 restrictions unexpectedly brought forth positive outcomes; the year in Armenia was a boom for expedition groups. To learn more about the new hikers and newly discovered ways, as well as the competition among hiking groups we talked to ArmGeo founder, geographer Tigran Varag.

On 27 October 1999, at around 5:15 p.m., five men led by journalist and former Armenian Revolutionary Federation (ARF) member Nairi Hunanyan, armed with Kalashnikov AK-47 rifles, broke into the National Assembly building, while the government was holding a question-and-answer session. They shot dead eight people, including Prime Minister Vazgen Sargsyan and Parliament Speaker Karen Demirchyan, whose coalition had won a majority in a parliamentary election held in May of that year. 

Someone asked what I’d like to have photographed during the war that I didn’t have a chance to. The first thing that came to my mind were the doctors – those working for 24 hours for more than 40 days. From the very first glance, they were exhausted, their hearts frozen. But deep inside, they were wounded with every wounded soldier and died with every dying soldier. The hospital of Stepanakert was like an entrance to hell, where the workers were angels. It was both the most dark and light-filled place. I regret I didn’t photograph more. It wasn't allowed, an order that came from “above”. I had a chance to take a few shots during those endless 40 something days. So we have documented only a small part of the war. A small and allowed part. Tomorrow, some written text will trump visible proof and make us invisible. As always.