Stones

My purpose as a documentarian is to bear witness to the reality of my surroundings and share this reality with my audience. This story about Khachkars -- “Stones” -- first came to me in Yerevan, when Armenia’s latest conflict with Azerbaijan was at its most dire stage. Enemy forces had surrounded the ethnically Armenian region of Artsakh and were quickly approaching the only roadway connecting its tiny population to the outside world. This was taking place only a few miles away from me, practically in my own backyard. Despite the dire conditions and the countless people fleeing the war zone, I discovered that a group of my fellow countrymen were on their way to the conflict zone.

It may seem crazy to the average person: people going to the frontlines of an all-but lost war, putting their own lives at risk -- for what? Just for the sake of preserving some old rocks? Yet dive deeper and you see that these stones symbolized a national identity, a shared history, ancient cultural artifacts that could not simply be abandoned. These individuals did not ask “why?” They were fulfilling a duty. So when the opportunity presented itself to join them on their journey, I did not ask “why?” These brave souls needed to preserve these stones, and it was my own duty to preserve their story.

For us Armenians, preserving our past has turned into a moral imperative -- a necessity to protect ourselves from a future of total destruction. The old adage that “it is important to remember where one comes from to better understand where one is going” rings true for Armenians, especially those of the modern era.

“Khachkars” or “Cross Stones” are intricately chiseled pieces of bedrock recognized by UNESCO as a cultural relic from the Middle Ages. These have remained an important part of the Armenian national fabric -- a symbol of our nation’s continued existence immortalized in ancient stone.

These Khachkars have been repeatedly subjected to acts of vandalism by Armenia’s neighbors during times of armed conflict in an attempt to eradicate traces of our culture from the highlands of the South Caucasus. The bitter lessons of the past thus compelled this small group of Armenians to act decisively. Showing this expedition -- a noble one, but fraught with danger -- was the main purpose of my film.

Thus my film portrays an existential issue, and not just a desire to preserve abstract historical monuments. As heavy as the subject matter may be, it was important for me not to interfere with the natural narrative, to merely observe, to give my audience a small slice of the reality that many Armenians now face and will continue to face.

We live in a time where war is a reality in Europe and international relations around the globe are strained. Modern-day Armenia itself is no stranger to armed conflict -- it is a landlocked post-Soviet country in a region of few friendly neighbors. Therefore, this film is now unfortunately more relevant than ever not just for the Armenians, but for a global audience that faces an uncertain world order.