Ancient Christian Community in Decline in Azerbaijan
The Udi people, an ancient Caucasian community, are being hit by emigration.
Ancient Christian Community in Decline in Azerbaijan
The Udi people, an ancient Caucasian community, are being hit by emigration.
Despite its problems, the village of Nij brims with generosity to the visitor. When IWPR correspondents asked the way to this large settlement in northern Azerbaijan, the passer-by who stopped to help was not content until he had led us to the door of the house we were looking for.
It is not so hard to find locals, because the women spend much of the day in the shops in the centre of Nij and the men in its tea-houses, where a stranger will almost certainly invite you to take a glass of tea.
If you are invited into a home, you cannot leave without being fed at a table decorated with fruits, sweets and conserves.
Most of the people in Nij belong to a small ethnic group called the Udis. They are remarkable for many reasons - they are Christians in an overwhelmingly Muslim country; their language is unrelated to those of the big nations of the Caucasus, Azerbaijan, Armenia and Georgia; and they can trace their ancestry back to an ancient people, the Caucasian Albanians (not related to the Albanians of the Balkans).
Sadly, the future of this unique people is now under threat from emigration. The Udis also find themselves unwilling actors in a historical dispute between Armenia and Azerbaijan.
Just over 4,000 of the 7,000 people in Nij are Udis. They live in a rich agricultural region – as the head of the local library, Sahib Muradov, noted, their village is the most prosperous of the 60 settlements in the Gabala district.
“Nij has the largest market in the region,” said Muradov. “Products from all over of Azerbaijan are brought here. There’s great demand for hazelnuts, chestnuts, walnuts, apples and vegetables grown by Nij residents. Аnd our muscat wine is unique.
“People in our village are quite well off… But it’s also true that some people are leaving the village.”
At the Sunday market, it was obvious that prices were low, suggesting living standards in the village are not high. A poor walnut crop this year and low prices have hit the locals hard.
Most of those who leave in search of work are young people, and the majority head for Russia.
“Young people are looking for a comfortable life,” said Gerasim Chulayury. “They wouldn’t leave here if there were businesses and factories working in the village.”
The only factory in the village– a Soviet-era cannery – has long stood idle, while the people who used to work there are still unemployed.
Of the five secondary schools, three teach in Russian and two in Azeri. The Udi language is taught only in primary school, and most Udi children go to the Russian schools.
Sergei Dallarin, headmaster of secondary school No 1, which dates back 150 years, said many school-leavers look for a college education abroad, generally in Russia.
“When they graduate from college, they don’t return to the village, as there’s no work for them here,” he said. “As a result, the number of Udis living in Nij has been shrinking. The village had 6,000 Udis ten years ago, whereas today there are just 4,500.”
“Our representatives used to have government jobs,” said Mikhail Gangalov, who is head of the Udi Cultural Centre. “Now, because of the migration problem, there are almost no educated Udis left in the vicinity, which means there’s no one to represent us in state structures. That explains why over the past few years, the Udis - unlike other ethnic groups - have not even been consulted when decisions regarding national minorities are taken.”
The Udis all say there are no tensions with Azerbaijanis.
A local man named Ashot writes poems in the Azeri language under the pseudonym Udioglu. “I write in Azeri because all Udis speak, write and read the language,” he said. “We have long become related to the Azerbaijanis.”
Ashot’s wife is Udi on her mother’s side and Azerbaijani on her father’s. Ashot’s older brother and sister are also married to ethnic Azerbaijanis.
A crisis hit Nij at the end of the Soviet period when the Udis, whose surnames at that time ended with the Armenian-sounding suffix “-ian”, were often mistakenly identified as Armenian.
“There was trouble in the late Eighties, when the conflict with the Armenians began,” recalled local government official Vidadi Mahmudov, who is half Azeri and half Udi. “When Armenians started leaving Azerbaijan in great numbers, a rumour spread that Nij was harbouring Armenians… But the local government and authorities got the better of those forces that were trying to inflame passions, and prevented them from insulting us.”
As a result, only limited numbers of Udis went to Armenia.
In recent years, the Udis have shed the “-ian” suffix and young Udis have begun to serve in the Azerbaijani army for the first time.
“Today we’re proud to say that 20 young men represent the Udis in the army,” said Mahmudov.
The Armenian association dogged the village two years ago when the a project to restore an old church became controversial. Work on the Albanian Christian church in Nij was completed last year, with support from the Norwegian embassy in Azerbaijan. It had been previously used as a warehouse.
“Udis can now come to church every week to light a candle, pray and make an donation,” said the church’s warden and gardener, Sevan Magari. “I get my wages from these offerings. I am the only worker at the church so far. Currently, three of our villagers are receiving religious education, so we are going to have priests of our own soon. There are two [Armenian] Gregorian churches in the village, though no one ever goes there.”
Norwegian ambassador Steinar Gil refused to attend the opening ceremony at the church, after local people erased Armenian inscriptions there during the restoration work.
Robert Mobili, head of the Udi community in Azerbaijan, defended the action, saying, “We don’t consider it necessary to leave inscriptions in a foreign language on one of the main Albanian shrines, all the more so because these inscriptions were made after the Albanian church was placed under the protection of the Armenian church,”
The church exemplifies a broader, deeply controversial issue.
Azerbaijani historians say the Udis or Albanians underwent forced assimilation by Armenians only in the last few centuries, and that most of the churches in Azerbaijan and in the disputed region of Nagorny Karabakh are not Armenian but Albanian Christian.
“This church was built in 1723,” said historian Farida Mamedova. “In 1836, the Albanian church was handed over to the Armenian Apostolic Church. This was not just a physical handover; it meant that all the literature, all the church plate and, most important, the church’s libraries and books went to the Armenian church.
According to Mamedova, the Armenian church destroyed the Albanian’s literature, which explains why none of it survives.
However many people leave their village, Nij remains the spiritual centre for the Udis of Azerbaijan. Four of the six cemeteries in the village are Udi, and cultural centre head Gangalov said wealthy people living abroad have brought their dead to Nij to bury them there.
It is not so hard to find locals, because the women spend much of the day in the shops in the centre of Nij and the men in its tea-houses, where a stranger will almost certainly invite you to take a glass of tea.
If you are invited into a home, you cannot leave without being fed at a table decorated with fruits, sweets and conserves.
Most of the people in Nij belong to a small ethnic group called the Udis. They are remarkable for many reasons - they are Christians in an overwhelmingly Muslim country; their language is unrelated to those of the big nations of the Caucasus, Azerbaijan, Armenia and Georgia; and they can trace their ancestry back to an ancient people, the Caucasian Albanians (not related to the Albanians of the Balkans).
Sadly, the future of this unique people is now under threat from emigration. The Udis also find themselves unwilling actors in a historical dispute between Armenia and Azerbaijan.
Just over 4,000 of the 7,000 people in Nij are Udis. They live in a rich agricultural region – as the head of the local library, Sahib Muradov, noted, their village is the most prosperous of the 60 settlements in the Gabala district.
“Nij has the largest market in the region,” said Muradov. “Products from all over of Azerbaijan are brought here. There’s great demand for hazelnuts, chestnuts, walnuts, apples and vegetables grown by Nij residents. Аnd our muscat wine is unique.
“People in our village are quite well off… But it’s also true that some people are leaving the village.”
At the Sunday market, it was obvious that prices were low, suggesting living standards in the village are not high. A poor walnut crop this year and low prices have hit the locals hard.
Most of those who leave in search of work are young people, and the majority head for Russia.
“Young people are looking for a comfortable life,” said Gerasim Chulayury. “They wouldn’t leave here if there were businesses and factories working in the village.”
The only factory in the village– a Soviet-era cannery – has long stood idle, while the people who used to work there are still unemployed.
Of the five secondary schools, three teach in Russian and two in Azeri. The Udi language is taught only in primary school, and most Udi children go to the Russian schools.
Sergei Dallarin, headmaster of secondary school No 1, which dates back 150 years, said many school-leavers look for a college education abroad, generally in Russia.
“When they graduate from college, they don’t return to the village, as there’s no work for them here,” he said. “As a result, the number of Udis living in Nij has been shrinking. The village had 6,000 Udis ten years ago, whereas today there are just 4,500.”
“Our representatives used to have government jobs,” said Mikhail Gangalov, who is head of the Udi Cultural Centre. “Now, because of the migration problem, there are almost no educated Udis left in the vicinity, which means there’s no one to represent us in state structures. That explains why over the past few years, the Udis - unlike other ethnic groups - have not even been consulted when decisions regarding national minorities are taken.”
The Udis all say there are no tensions with Azerbaijanis.
A local man named Ashot writes poems in the Azeri language under the pseudonym Udioglu. “I write in Azeri because all Udis speak, write and read the language,” he said. “We have long become related to the Azerbaijanis.”
Ashot’s wife is Udi on her mother’s side and Azerbaijani on her father’s. Ashot’s older brother and sister are also married to ethnic Azerbaijanis.
A crisis hit Nij at the end of the Soviet period when the Udis, whose surnames at that time ended with the Armenian-sounding suffix “-ian”, were often mistakenly identified as Armenian.
“There was trouble in the late Eighties, when the conflict with the Armenians began,” recalled local government official Vidadi Mahmudov, who is half Azeri and half Udi. “When Armenians started leaving Azerbaijan in great numbers, a rumour spread that Nij was harbouring Armenians… But the local government and authorities got the better of those forces that were trying to inflame passions, and prevented them from insulting us.”
As a result, only limited numbers of Udis went to Armenia.
In recent years, the Udis have shed the “-ian” suffix and young Udis have begun to serve in the Azerbaijani army for the first time.
“Today we’re proud to say that 20 young men represent the Udis in the army,” said Mahmudov.
The Armenian association dogged the village two years ago when the a project to restore an old church became controversial. Work on the Albanian Christian church in Nij was completed last year, with support from the Norwegian embassy in Azerbaijan. It had been previously used as a warehouse.
“Udis can now come to church every week to light a candle, pray and make an donation,” said the church’s warden and gardener, Sevan Magari. “I get my wages from these offerings. I am the only worker at the church so far. Currently, three of our villagers are receiving religious education, so we are going to have priests of our own soon. There are two [Armenian] Gregorian churches in the village, though no one ever goes there.”
Norwegian ambassador Steinar Gil refused to attend the opening ceremony at the church, after local people erased Armenian inscriptions there during the restoration work.
Robert Mobili, head of the Udi community in Azerbaijan, defended the action, saying, “We don’t consider it necessary to leave inscriptions in a foreign language on one of the main Albanian shrines, all the more so because these inscriptions were made after the Albanian church was placed under the protection of the Armenian church,”
The church exemplifies a broader, deeply controversial issue.
Azerbaijani historians say the Udis or Albanians underwent forced assimilation by Armenians only in the last few centuries, and that most of the churches in Azerbaijan and in the disputed region of Nagorny Karabakh are not Armenian but Albanian Christian.
“This church was built in 1723,” said historian Farida Mamedova. “In 1836, the Albanian church was handed over to the Armenian Apostolic Church. This was not just a physical handover; it meant that all the literature, all the church plate and, most important, the church’s libraries and books went to the Armenian church.
According to Mamedova, the Armenian church destroyed the Albanian’s literature, which explains why none of it survives.
However many people leave their village, Nij remains the spiritual centre for the Udis of Azerbaijan. Four of the six cemeteries in the village are Udi, and cultural centre head Gangalov said wealthy people living abroad have brought their dead to Nij to bury them there.
