It used to be called the Union of Soviet Socialist Republics, the USSR. It was supposed to be colorblind, a society of equals where communism was above petty notions like nationalism, faith and ethnicity.
That was what it was supposed to be, until one day it all turned upside down with the collapse of the Soviet Union. Today the Russian Federation celebrates its independence from the USSR on the 24th of August, and every republic is on its own, each trying to come to grips with the new realities of life.
The problems are many, and while the Western world focuses on the economic aspects of the emerging democracies, social issues and the status of millions of people living on "foreign soil" are often placed on the back burners of policy makers.
For example, there are more than 25 million Russians living outside the borders of what is the Russian Federation, the main component of the former USSR. They cannot return "home" because "home" is where they are now and where they have been for decades.
Suddenly, there is a Russian Diaspora within a land mass which until recently was one country ruled from Moscow.
"This is a strange feeling. They were all Soviets, and now they are Russians, Armenians, Georgians, Uzbeks or whatever. The former USSR is going through an identity crisis," said a Western diplomat in a recent briefing.
"The Soviet Union was never like the United States — an ethnic melting pot. Despite decades of communist rule, the USSR failed to produce a person who was as much at home in Moscow, Almaty, Dushambe, Baku, Yerevan or Yakutsk/' he said.
"Large ethnic blocs suddenly found themselves in countries which are not their own, and this has created the all new concept of a Diaspora. Russians in the Ukraine, Armenians in Russia, and so on," he said.
Take a look at the Armenians. There are no official figures or statistics defining the number of Armenians living within the Russian Federation.
One source puts the number at 1.5 million, including close to 500,000 in the greater Moscow region alone, but the Armenian Embassy says the figure is much less.
"We really don't know how many Armenians live in Russia. While thousands of Armenians took advantage of a law which gave Russian citizenship to anyone living in Russia legally before February 6, 1992, many more did not qualify," Armenian Ambassador Yuri Israelovitch Mgrdoumian said.
Russian officials, when asked for a breakdown of legally registered Armenian immigrants, say such data was not available because of the "extremely porous nature of Russia's borders with the other republics."
Under existing Russian laws, citizens of any of the republics of the former Soviet Union can enter Russia without a visa, and can stay almost as long as they want provided they register with the local police and pay the required 45-day registration fee — which can be extended over and over again.
"With today's exchange rate, that is less than one dollar per day per adult — children stay free," said a Western diplomat. "And because police never check the residence permits of women, they too avoid paying the registration fee."
Regardless of what the exact number of Armenians living in Russia is, the problems facing the expatriates are diverse and immense.
Like Armenian Diaspora communities in the United States, Armenians living in Russia fall into similar categories: Families who settled in Russia before the birth of the Soviet Union; those who took up residence during the Soviet era; the "newcomers" — political refugees from Azerbaijan and those escaping economic hardship in Armenia.
The first two categories are often educated, and well established. Many do not speak Armenian. They are often seen in government, academia, banking and management.
Vartkes Bagradovitch Artsruni is the General Director of Mosinterstroi Association, the powerful Construction Department of the Moscow City Government which has the last word in what gets built in the Russian capital.
Artsruni, in his late 50's, is a proud Armenian who led the Soviet team of engineers and workers that re-built the city of Tashkent after a devastating earthquake in 1966.
When a massive earthquake struck Armenia in 1988, Artsruni led the first Soviet rescue mission to the Armenian city of Gyumri, which was then known as Leninakan.
"I was there hours after the earthquake and stayed there for more than one month. We could have re-built Leninakan in three years, but the Soviet Union collapsed and Armenia was hit by a blockade before we could finish the job," he said in an interview.
Artsruni today is the mastermind behind one of Moscow's larger ambitious projects — the 20 million dollar four star Ararat Hotel a few blocks from the Kremlin and around the corner from the Bolshoi Theater.
"I want the Ararat name to be a constant reminder to all Moscow visitors and guests. The facade and interior decorations of the hotel will be in the traditional Armenian architecture and design," he said during a recent visit.
"The Moscow City Government has finalized the plans for the Ararat Hotel, and all we need now is foreign investment to move ahead. Unfortunately, the merit to move ahead. Unfortunately, the only people showing interest are the Japanese and Scandinavians, but no Armenians," he said.
Artsruni, like other well-established Armenians in Moscow, is not very active in community affairs — a phenomenon which explains why major community-based endeavors like the Armenia Fund have remained dormant in recent years.
The Fund's first chairman, professor Stepan Sitarian, is at a loss to explain the difficulties. He admits that the Armenians in Moscow are not well organized, and says more is being done by individual Armenians than organized groups.
"There is a lot of competition, and this is not always good” Sitarian said.
Ambassador Mgrdoumian acknowledges the difficulties, but is quick to add that positive change is in the air.
"We frequently hear about Armenian problems in Los Angeles and Glendale. We understand these problems, because we have similar difficulties here in Russia. Our potential is enormous and we are determined to jump-start this community," the diplomat said.
According to Armenian sources, including ranking church officials, hundreds of thousands of Armenians — including large numbers of refugees from such trouble spots as Abkhazia and Georgia proper — have moved to the greater Moscow region in recent years, adding a major burden on the poorly organized community.
"They keep coming, especially in the winter months when it's cold and difficult in Armenia. Some of these go back in the spring, but many others stay," an Armenian diplomat said.
At the Armenian Embassy in Moscow, the pressure from the "newcomers" is relentless.
"Families come to us with different problems: some have been robbed at Moscow train stations; others are ill; some want help to get their friends or relatives out of Russian jails. We deal with all these as best as we can," Armenian Consul Ashot Manougian said.
He said the embassy often gets calls from police stations asking for interpreters to process detainees. The Embassy, itself short of cash, often takes collections from its own staff of 25 diplomats and other employees to help needy Armenian families.
"We are regularly raising money among ourselves to relocate a desperate Armenian family back to Armenia or pay for a poor family to cover its basic needs. We are running both a diplomatic mission and a social service agency," he said.
Ambassador Mgrdoumian, a scholar and former university professor, encourages his staff to be more involved with the day-to-day problems of the Armenian community.
Armenian despite the fact that our mission here is to represent the Republic of Armenia at the Kremlin. If we have to pass the hat to help a needy family, we will," he said.
Mgrdoumian has, in the short few months since assuming his first diplomatic post in Moscow, gathered a large number of "local" Armenians around his embassy and taken a scientific approach to the problems facing the community.
"We have started a data bank which will include very detailed information of Armenians living across the Russian Federation. We are also preparing an organizational blueprint.
"We are not here to tell the community what to do, but information is vital. Armenians are scattered in various regions of the Federation. There are thousands of Armenians in almost every major Russian city. We need to identify all our human resources so that our limited energies are not wasted," he said.
During a recent diplomatic conference in Yakutsk, a Siberian city on the Lena River nearly 7,000 kilometers east of Yerevan, Mgrdoumian was surprised when a group of local Armenians walked up to him and requested a meeting to discuss community affairs.
"They were a dynamic group of people who have already started to organize themselves as a community. I was very surprised to learn that thousands of Armenians live that far inside Russia and that far away from home," the Ambassador said.
He said the Republic of Armenia today has embassies or diplomatic missions not only in Russia, but also in the Ukraine, Belarus, Moldova, Georgia, Kazakhstan, Turkmenistan, and Kyrgyzstan "and there are Armenians in most of them."
"These are fateful days for the Armenian Diaspora in the Russian Federation. The ground rules have changed almost overnight. We have to seriously evaluate our priorities," Mgrdoumian said.
During the Soviet era, there was no such thing as a Diaspora within the borders of the vast Union. Terms like "internal Diaspora" and "near abroad" were more common.
Therefore, unlike Armenian communities in the United States, Europe or the Middle East, Armenians in the Soviet Union did not establish schools, churches and social institutions, simply because they were not allowed to.
This absence of community institutions, including newspapers like in the Diaspora, is having a negative effect on the Armenian population.
At least one Armenian day-school has been established in Moscow alongside the Sunday Armenian classes at the Armenian Embassy and a number of organizations have taken roots in a city of more than 10 million people. But progress is very slow.
As citizens of a collapsed "empire" which is still trying to come to grips with its "colonial" past, Armenians tend to keep a low profile.
Despite their large numbers, they are not a political force. They do not lobby — at least not directly and certainly not openly. The older generation of Armenian Muscovites prefers to stay out of "Armenian politics", and the newcomers are too poor to think of anything more than feeding their families.
Numbers do not necessarily mean strength — not in Russia, and not for the Armenian community there.
"It's better to whisper into friendly ears rather than shout at a hostile public," says an Armenian diplomat. "Quiet diplomacy pays more than a vocal display of national feelings."
Judging from the existing relations between the Russian Federation and the Republic of Armenia, quiet diplomacy is paying off. Russian aid to Armenia is steady and so is Moscow's political support.
