Philippe Raffi Kalfayan is an international legal expert, the former secretary general of the International Federation for Human Rights (FIDH), an associate researcher at the Human Rights Research Center at the University of Paris 2 Pantheon Assas and a prominent figure in the Armenian diaspora in France. He has made it his life’s quest to defend human rights and works to eliminate barbarism, oppression and cowardice in the world. We spoke to Raffi about the influence his family history has had on the decisions he makes, his inspiration and his commitment to the great cause. 
 

“I dedicate this interview to my father André, who passed away too soon. He belonged to that self-sacrificing generation that worked hard to campaign with discretion and with the purest abnegation. My path is nothing compared to his, but he would certainly be proud of me.”

T.Y.: Your grandparents survived the Armenian Genocide. How have your Armenian roots influenced your journey as a human rights activist? 

R.K.: I broke this path down into four stages. It all started with the story of my paternal grandmother Aghavni. She was the only one of my grandparents to pass her personal story – the story of the majority of Armenian survivors – on to me. As a child, I used to sit on a stool near her feet and listen to her great narratives while she was busy tailoring her jackets late into the evening. My grandmother’s story is especially precious because it comes from a direct source. Unlike younger generations, I enjoyed this vital, indestructible bond with the past.

The second stage was making a commitment to my identity. This was a lively and passionate process that left little room for reflection or consideration. As a young rebel I fought to advance the Armenian cause in every way, focusing on the struggle for recognition of the Armenian Genocide. This was an invaluable experience that shaped the rest of my life and led me to forge strong friendships. It also generated useful contacts, especially in the professional sphere, but the most important was the feeling I got from it. Being committed to a cause gave us a sense that, unlike many of our friends and colleagues, we had an advantage: we were striving for an ideal that went beyond our day-to-day life. 

The third stage was maturity, when my Armenian origins, links to the Armenian Genocide and activism merged with the rest of my life: my formal education, my professional career and my ever-widening circle of acquaintances. I became a great traveler – as a professional, as an activist and as a tourist. This opened me up to other causes where injustice goes unpunished, beyond the Armenian case. The events of 1915 were exceptional, but not unique. Other events, other people, other circumstances also came to my attention and there are plenty of cases going on today. This maturity coincided with my commitment to FIDH, dating back to 1995. 

It largely rests on the realization that my struggles and commitments are not driven by my Armenian identity alone. That is the origin of my beliefs, but my motivation is the rejection of injustice, oppression and torture.

Moreover, the death of an Armenian veteran of the Karabakh war due to ill treatment and torture at an Armenian prison in 1994 made me mobilize body and soul to defend human rights and establish the rule of law in Armenia. It has been 20 years and that campaign is far from over.

The final phase is the present. It started with the death of my grandmother in 2003. I was with her during her final moments. Only then, on the eve of her death, that I learned for the first time of all the repressed feelings she had internalized, enduring but never expressing them. I understood all the emotional deprivation caused by the loss of her family in 1915 (she lost her parents, brothers and sisters). The injustice of the Genocide became clear in its cruel, unbearable reality. On that day, I made a promise that such suffering must absolutely meet with justice and my personal, philosophical commitment became unshakable. 

T.Y.: Who inspired you when you were an active young member of FIDH?

R.K.: My relationship with FIDH started in 1983 when I was involved in the defense of two Armenian political prisoners. They had participated in the assassination of the Turkish ambassador to Yugoslavia. One of them was wounded and then arrested during his escape from the crime scene. They were also held wrongly accountable for the death of a passerby, who was actually killed by a stray bullet fired by police. 

I called on the FIDH to conduct an observation mission. I did a similar thing in 1985 during the famous battle of paragraph 30 in the Subcommittee on Human Rights and the protection of United Nations Minorities. There, I met one of the key figures of the human rights movement, Louis Joinet. He is an eminent character: the founder of the Union of Magistrates, editor of the Data Protection Act and the first director of the National Commission On Informatics And Liberty (CNIL). Above all, Joinet’s 1997 report on the question of impunity for human rights violations laid down the eponymous principles that theorized the inalienable right to the truth, the duty of memory, the right to justice and the right to compensation. These principles have since flourished and now represent the foundation of what we call transitional justice. He is retired, but I still meet him occasionally at the university. 

The other great human rights figure I have worked with on certain cases is Henri Leclerc. A criminal lawyer, he is a man blessed with a special humanity and humility, always ready to embrace great causes and even desperate ones. Continuing in chronological order, the next is Michel Tubiana, with whom I traveled to Armenia in 1995 as part of a judicial observation mission of political trials. Since then we have shared the same struggles and carried out several missions together. He is a man of culture, gruff and brittle, but with human warmth behind that facade. 

Finally, I have to mention Stephane Hessel, Pierre Vidal-Naquet and Madeleine Reberioux, all humanistic spirits, committed defenders of human rights, free, independent individuals with a rebellious spirit. I have not worked with them directly, simply crossed their paths, but I fall modestly within their inheritance.

T.Y.: In hindsight, can you say that there is a common thread linking all of your fights and commitments? 

R.K.: The common thread is the quest for justice and my driving force is the rejection of barbarism, oppression and cowardice in a world where courage has given way to moneymaking, political correctness and the triumph of image over reality. Do I have a utopian vision? Perhaps. However, this is my choice. The story of my grandmother, my birth into an Armenian family and the commitment of my father have certainly facilitated my adherence to the defense of the Armenian cause. Nevertheless, on my intellectual journey I have discovered the true values and principles that lie at the center of my struggle: the Armenian cause is primarily a struggle for justice and respect for universal rights, and it should be treated as such, especially because we live in a globalized world. It is also the essence of my current work, as both an academic and an activist; my current goal is to promote and transmit this cause to new generations.