Genocide is one of humankind’s lowest forms of activity. If you look back in our history, you can find several similar horrendous events in the near past. The Nazi Holocaust is just one of such disgusting events. Since it stays so prominent in our minds, we tend to forget other ethnic cleansings. The Armenian massacre is one of such overshadowed events.

You might have never heard of the Armenian massacre, in which two million Armenians lost their lives as described in the previous page. And you may think that it was long over now. What do you say if it is still going on?

Maybe, you don’t believe me, but the ethnic cleansing campaign against Armenians was under way in Azerbaijan in the 1980s and 1990s. Probably, it is still going on, though the world press seldom touches that, if not at all. If you’re interested in this campaign, visit this site: NATION-STATE AND ETHNIC CLEANSING.

An ethnic cleansing is a scary concept. I’m a Japanese by birth, and living in Canada. What should I do if ninety percent of Canadians decide to wipe out all the Japanese living in Canada? The idea gives me a spine-shuddering chill.

And I know that Ari had the same kind of sinking feeling when he witnessed his fellow Christians massacred by the Turks during his formative years.

Ari’s grandmother Getsemani had always told him to remember that “men have to construct their destiny”. After his father’s liberation, Ari didn’t see in his native country any bond strong enough to keep him there.

More than likely, Ari took his grandmom’s words and decided to steer his destiny. With 250 dollars in his pocket and a valid permit for a journey into the new world, Ari set out for Argentina. He started with a third-class ticket in the middle of thousands of emigrants, tight between the hold and the deck.

But Ari seemed different from other desperate fugitives who had lost their country and, with it, their identities. Ari’s love for victory, his clearness of objectives, and his unfettered determination drove him to the faster highway rather than a rugged country lane.

Ari subsequently found work as a telephone operator with the help of some Greeks and, on this occasion, he once again falsified his date of birth, this time making himself six years older so that he could legally hold a job. His work gave him economic stability and a better business sense. When work was slow, Ari would read the financial pages for the London and New York stock exchanges and eventually he put his knowledge into a speculative investment that resulted in handsome returns. He bought a new wardrobe and began to frequent the night clubs in new fashion.

In his search for perfection, Ari picked up some cultural aspects of the region and attended the opera, in which played Claudia Muzio, who would later become his love. Claudia opened up the doors of Buenos Aires to Ari and his destiny started to change.

As he continued his work as a telephone operator, another brilliant idea came to him. Why not introduce the oriental tobacco into Argentina? Ari wrote his father with a proposal to ship him tobacco for a contracted rate. Ari believed that Turkish tobacco, rather than Cuban tobacco, would appeal more to the female public in Argentina.

However, at this time, women smoked only in private and not in public, so his orders remained minimal. Ari decided to persist when no one bought his tobacco and he opted to open up a cigarette production line himself. He produced two types, “Osman” and “Primeros”, and thousands of dollars in profits started to come in. With the help of his cousins Kosta and Niko Konialidis, he turned his initial endeavor into an import-and-export business.

Unfortunately, Ari was soon informed by Kostas that taxes on goods of importation from countries that didn’t have trade agreements with Greece would have a one thousand percent increase. Ari immediately understood the danger that such an increase would pose to the Greek government. Naturally the danger included all of Onassis’ personal business. Ari painted the reality to the Greek government in a memorandum stressing how the new taxes would ruin the sea trade. This memorandum for the Greek government didn’t effect the increase towards Argentina. He was given the appointment to the Greek consulate in Argentina.

Home-sickness and sweet nostalgia was pervasive in Ari’s mind afterward. The memory of the sea and the port, the scent of mimosa and jasmine, the bread fresh out of the oven, the ship’s siren sound, the steam engines and the orchestra music, the folk-songs and the smell of coffee that reminded him of his infancy and the love for his native city. This sense of nostalgia began to consume him. Ari wasn’t a sailor and didn’t have the instincts of a sailor, but was a native of a Greek sea-city and poured out all his feelings onto a project to obtain some whips containing his name, his flag, and his colors. The ship offered Ari the opportunity to free himself from the ghosts of his dreams interrupted from his youth; it offered him a coherent symbol of his might and aims to embody the myth of Odysseus in his lifetime--the eternal traveler pushed to discover the limits of the world. As a ship owner, Ari started a seemingly endless adventure, awesome in dimension, to experience a continued mix of success and defeat and the strength of the human character.

The gains he earned with tobacco was still insufficient to satisfy his heavy aspirations. Ambitious and avidly aware of his own talent, he noted while carrying the function as Consul how fascinating the world of the sea is. As Consul, he enjoyed resolving ships’ problems in port, and had the energy to grasp the situations behind sea-transportation and maximizing shipping profits.

Having decided to find ships at any cost, he started a voyage of Europe in order to find the “lost ship”. He returned from Europe unconvinced of what he had seen, but Kostas, his inseparable friend and perpetual businessman, found a possibility in Canada.

Onassis left immediately. The ships were anchored on the Saint Lawrence River and belonged to the Canadian National Steamship Company, a subsidiary of the Canadian National Railways. The company was resolved to selling the various ships, weighing anywhere from 8.5 and 10 thousand tons, at scrap-metal prices. Onassis examined the ships, and made his own estimates. He offered to buy six ships each for 20 thousand dollars apiece. The company had wanted to sell only two ships, but relented; Onassis was finally a ship owner, and he promptly installed his cousin into a brand new office and designated Nikos Konialidis his curator for naval business.

The first two ships released from the yard after the acquisition were names after his parents Socrates Onassis and Penelope Onassis. With his soon-to-be legendary flair for business, Ari kept his ships in the yard until he judged market demand was right for their release. However, he had to make up the $120,000 that he had borrowed from various banks, and there was little room for error. When he thought that he had arrived at the right moment, his small armada sailed in low waters with a quantity of Canadian newspaper, the prestigious Daily Mirror of Lord Rothermer. The other transports followed one another and Onassis began to ameliorate his starting investment, but it was not easy.

Rotterdam was the sight of the new fleet’s first troubles. The Onassis Penelope was stuck in port, blocked by the Port Authority because a Greek sailor was sick and had to be substituted with another Greek. The ship flew a Greek flag, and the crew needed to be completed in order to successfully transport the cargo. Ari went to Rotterdam, but his protests didn’t yield many results. The ship had to unload the rest of its load in Copenhagen, which wasted valuable time. Ari dismissed the Consul, his old friend from school, with the phrase “come and see me tomorrow on board”. The phrase seemed sublime, but the Consul had underestimated Onassis’ mighty power as a man and deep desire to avoid defeats and losses. This was a classic example of Onassis’ firm desire to succeed.

Ari called his legal advisors and Kostas Gratsos. His agents took only until that night to register the ship under the Flag of Panama. The morning after, the Greek Consul received a bottle of champagne on board the Penelope. Accompanying the champagne was a note informing him to take the Greek flag with him, for he was now on board a Panamese ship, signed by Ari. The changing of the flag, an immediate resolution to a nagging problem, revealed itself as Ari’s winning card. He started a practice which many ship owners soon followed. The advantages were undeniable, especially from a fiscal point of view. Taxes were nonexistent, the ship could now trade with any value, and was no longer subject to most exchange rules. The ship owner could now establish the number of the crew on the ground purely according to the ship’s need, and these hirings were no longer carefully checked.

Onassis returned from his trip to Rotterdam, reassured that he had found the right solution. His joy was comparable to that of a great scientist that had just discovered a new formula and was busy preparing himself for greater successes.