A Rebuttal of Injust McFarty's "Essay", the Revisionist's Bible 11
The Armenian apologists quote American missionaries as if missionaries would never lie, omitting the numerous proofs that missionaries did indeed lie and avoided mentioning anything that would show Armenians to be less than innocent. The missionaries in Van, for example, reported the deaths of Armenians, but not the fact that those same Armenians had killed all the Muslims they caught in that city.
American Ambassador lies, Johannes Lepsius lies, all missionaries lie, Armin Wegner lies, Toynbee and Bryce lie, not to speak of Armenian survivors and Armenian Genocide experts. Only Injust McFarty, who personally knows the vilest monsters who ever lived, like Abdulhamid, Talat and Hitler, NEVER lies.
How about the Persian writer, Mohammad Ali Jamalzadeh who witnessed the plight of the Armenians, traveling from Berlin to Baghdad in spring of 1915, crossing from Istanbul to Aleppo and Baghdad, then back to Berlin. He noted down what he saw in "My Personal Observations in World War One". He is neither a Christian, nor a Jew nor a Westerner:
"We took a coach from Baghdad and Aleppo towards Istanbul. We saw many groups of Armenians from the very beginning of our journey, in unbelievable condition, and the armed Turkish gendarmes on horseback were driving them to their deaths. At first we were shocked, but we gradually became so used to it that we did not look at them anymore. It wasn't a sight to look at, indeed. Hundreds of weak and distressed Armenian men, women and children were being forced to walk forward by lashes and blows of rifle butts.
There were no Young men among the people, because all the young men were sent to the battle fronts or they were killed lest they'd join the Russian army. Armenian girls had shaved their heads and were completely bald to avoid being molested by Arab and Turkish men. Two or three gendarmes on horseback drove these groups forward by the whip like cattle.
If one of the captives fell behind as a result of exhaustion, weakness or nature's call, they would remain behind forever and the groans and pleadings of their relatives were useless. Therefore, here and there we saw Armenian men and women lying on the road side who were either dead, moribund or in near death agony.
Later we heard that several local young men, to quench their lustful desires, had not spared the honor of dead or dying Armenian girls.
Our route was along the western bank of Euphrates, and not a day would pass without us seeing the corpses floating on the river. One night, we stopped at a relatively habitable place and we bought a lamb from the residents and slaughtered and grilled it. We disemboweled the lamb and suddenly we saw a group of Armenians, whom the gendarmes had brought nearby, threw themselves on the green soup-like liquid waste from the lamb and devoured it. It was a sight I haven't forgotten to this day.
Yet another day we lodged in a place nearby a caravan from these Armenians under Ottoman police control. An Armenian woman with death like appearance came to me and said in French: "For God's sake, my children are dying of hunger. Take these two diamonds and give me some food instead."
Believe me, I didn't take the diamonds and I gave her some food, even though we were becoming short of food and we still had several days before arriving in Aleppo.
We arrived in Aleppo and lodged in a big hotel owned by an Armenian, called The Prince Hotel. He came to us in panic and said: "Jamal Pasha has arrived in Aleppo and is staying in this hotel. I fear he will arrest and kill me and he'll confiscate the hotel .
He entreated us to go to Jamal Pasha, who had become famous for his cruelty, and mediate. He said: "you are honorable people and your mediation might be effective". However, it remained ineffective, and after hours we heard that the Armenian man was arrested and he was taken to Beirut or somewhere that had become known as a huge slaughterhouse.
To cut it short, those were strange times and it has turned into a horrifying nightmare for me. It haunts me now and again, and it fills my entire being with pain and sorrow.
Mohammad Ali Jamalzadeh, 25 th of Khordad, 1350 (15th of June, 1971), Geneva.
The Armenian apologists quote American missionaries as if missionaries would never lie, omitting the numerous proofs that missionaries did indeed lie and avoided mentioning anything that would show Armenians to be less than innocent. The missionaries in Van, for example, reported the deaths of Armenians, but not the fact that those same Armenians had killed all the Muslims they caught in that city.
American Ambassador lies, Johannes Lepsius lies, all missionaries lie, Armin Wegner lies, Toynbee and Bryce lie, not to speak of Armenian survivors and Armenian Genocide experts. Only Injust McFarty, who personally knows the vilest monsters who ever lived, like Abdulhamid, Talat and Hitler, NEVER lies.
How about the Persian writer, Mohammad Ali Jamalzadeh who witnessed the plight of the Armenians, traveling from Berlin to Baghdad in spring of 1915, crossing from Istanbul to Aleppo and Baghdad, then back to Berlin. He noted down what he saw in "My Personal Observations in World War One". He is neither a Christian, nor a Jew nor a Westerner:
"We took a coach from Baghdad and Aleppo towards Istanbul. We saw many groups of Armenians from the very beginning of our journey, in unbelievable condition, and the armed Turkish gendarmes on horseback were driving them to their deaths. At first we were shocked, but we gradually became so used to it that we did not look at them anymore. It wasn't a sight to look at, indeed. Hundreds of weak and distressed Armenian men, women and children were being forced to walk forward by lashes and blows of rifle butts.
There were no Young men among the people, because all the young men were sent to the battle fronts or they were killed lest they'd join the Russian army. Armenian girls had shaved their heads and were completely bald to avoid being molested by Arab and Turkish men. Two or three gendarmes on horseback drove these groups forward by the whip like cattle.
If one of the captives fell behind as a result of exhaustion, weakness or nature's call, they would remain behind forever and the groans and pleadings of their relatives were useless. Therefore, here and there we saw Armenian men and women lying on the road side who were either dead, moribund or in near death agony.
Later we heard that several local young men, to quench their lustful desires, had not spared the honor of dead or dying Armenian girls.
Our route was along the western bank of Euphrates, and not a day would pass without us seeing the corpses floating on the river. One night, we stopped at a relatively habitable place and we bought a lamb from the residents and slaughtered and grilled it. We disemboweled the lamb and suddenly we saw a group of Armenians, whom the gendarmes had brought nearby, threw themselves on the green soup-like liquid waste from the lamb and devoured it. It was a sight I haven't forgotten to this day.
Yet another day we lodged in a place nearby a caravan from these Armenians under Ottoman police control. An Armenian woman with death like appearance came to me and said in French: "For God's sake, my children are dying of hunger. Take these two diamonds and give me some food instead."
Believe me, I didn't take the diamonds and I gave her some food, even though we were becoming short of food and we still had several days before arriving in Aleppo.
We arrived in Aleppo and lodged in a big hotel owned by an Armenian, called The Prince Hotel. He came to us in panic and said: "Jamal Pasha has arrived in Aleppo and is staying in this hotel. I fear he will arrest and kill me and he'll confiscate the hotel .
He entreated us to go to Jamal Pasha, who had become famous for his cruelty, and mediate. He said: "you are honorable people and your mediation might be effective". However, it remained ineffective, and after hours we heard that the Armenian man was arrested and he was taken to Beirut or somewhere that had become known as a huge slaughterhouse.
To cut it short, those were strange times and it has turned into a horrifying nightmare for me. It haunts me now and again, and it fills my entire being with pain and sorrow.
Mohammad Ali Jamalzadeh, 25 th of Khordad, 1350 (15th of June, 1971), Geneva.
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