In March-May 1963, the World Chess Championship matches between Mikhail Botvinnik and Tigran Petrosian were held. During these days, a huge crowd of fans gathered near the Yerevan cinema “Moskva,” loudly reacting to every move on the large demonstration board hanging on the building’s wall.
At one point, an elderly woman in the crowd felt unwell. After she was revived, people asked, “How are you?” “How is our Tigran doing?” replied the woman, who had little understanding of chess.
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Castling
The match with Botvinnik, the patriarch of Soviet chess, was the culmination of Tigran Petrosian’s career. He reached the pinnacle of the chess world and became the ninth king of chess. The heyday of “our” Tigran coincided with the rise of national spirit; his successes inspired the Armenian diaspora scattered across the globe and, generating extraordinary interest in the game, laid the foundation for future victories by Armenian chess players.
Some believed that the 52-year-old champion was doomed in a struggle against a significantly younger opponent—Petrosian was 34 at the time. Botvinnik voluntarily relinquished his right to a rematch in case of defeat. However, he had no intention of surrendering without a fight and won the very first game.
Petrosian’s advantages only became apparent in the final third of the match, which lasted nearly two months. He lost another game, won five, and secured an early victory in the match. That Botvinnik was far from finished became evident three months later during the Spartakiad of the Peoples of the USSR, where the ex-champion demolished all his opponents, scoring eight points out of a possible nine in the team leaders’ micro-tournament.
The broadcast of the Botvinnik-Petrosian match on Armenian television was hosted by Vanik Zakaryan, a chess master (now an academician of the National Academy of Sciences of the Republic of Armenia and Honorary President of the Armenian Chess Federation):
“On the day of the 22nd game, when a draw—sufficient for Petrosian to secure the World Championship title—was already quite apparent, I once again called Moscow, to the press center of the match, to find out the next series of moves. Grandmaster Salo Flohr answered the phone. He had long been a friend of Botvinnik but was also sympathetic to Petrosian.”
I explained the purpose of my call and asked to speak to one of the Armenians present. “My dear, everyone here today is Armenian!” was the reply. Perhaps Flohr was referring to the scene unfolding on stage—Sergo Ambartsumyan, the well-known weightlifter, was struggling to hold back the crowd of fans rushing to the stage to congratulate their hero on his victory.
Tigran’s fans passionately supported him, sometimes in the most unusual ways. By the end of the match with Botvinnik, a tradition had developed to sprinkle the path to Petrosian’s match location at the Variety Theater in Moscow with soil brought from Holy Etchmiadzin.
It is said that this greatly irritated Botvinnik, who expressed his displeasure through intermediaries. Tigran Petrosian’s arrival in Yerevan as world champion became an event for the city’s residents, comparable in significance perhaps only to “The Arrival of a Train at La Ciotat Station” for world cinema.
An ecstatic crowd lifted the chess king right on the platform and carried him several kilometers—all the way to Lenin Square! The meeting was captured on film, fragments of which have been preserved to this day.
Risk-Free
Tigran Petrosian’s chess talent was evident from his childhood. A boy from a poor Armenian family who lost his parents at a young age had twice won the Soviet Union Youth Championships by the time he reached adulthood (a feat achieved by no one before him and few after), and had also won the men’s championship of Georgia.
After moving to Yerevan in 1946, within two years he became the champion of Armenia, achieved the title of sports master, and won a match against the future king of chess studies, Genrikh Kasparian.
However, his first appearance in the Union Championship of 1949 nearly ended in complete disaster. Initially facing off against renowned and naturally more experienced chess players, Petrosian lost five games in a row. He managed to improve his tournament standing somewhat later on, but, most importantly, he realized that improvement is only possible by consistently playing against strong opponents.
And Petrosian made the decision to move to Moscow. The following three years were marked by new achievements. Tigran Petrosian became the champion of Moscow, shared 2nd–3rd places in the USSR Championship, became a Grandmaster, and emerged as a contender for the world chess crown.
Petrosian’s own unique style of play evolved from his extensive erudition, refined technique, and ability to deeply understand his opponent’s intentions, thanks to a keen sense of danger.
He clearly articulated his credo: “I only like games where I played according to the requirements of the position… I only believe in logical, correct play.” And also: “I try to avoid risk, chance. Those who want to take risks should play cards or roulette.”
Examples of Petrosian’s strategy in certain types of positions are still considered unparalleled to this day. He loved closed pawn structures and sometimes joked, “The Old Indian Defense feeds me and my family!”
He also enjoyed defending difficult, cramped positions. Discerning between “edible” and “inedible” sacrifices, Petrosian skillfully fended off ill-prepared attacks, prompting another of his aphorisms: “The Chigorin style of my opponents is the guarantee of our constant success!”
One Move Ahead
There are many stories about Petrosian’s ability to anticipate his opponents’ plans. Sometimes this characteristic of Tigran Vartanovich’s style backfired and led him to avoid struggle in positions where his opponents had yet to see, calculate, and execute defensive moves on the board.
However, the opposite often occurred, and not just over the chessboard. In 1959, Icelandic Grandmaster and future FIDE president Friðrik Ólafsson, upon arriving at the Candidates Tournament in Yugoslavia, hurried to a church situated on an island in Lake Bled.
It was believed that any wish made within its walls would surely come true. According to the draw, Ólafsson was to play Petrosian in the first round, and it wasn’t hard to guess what he might wish for. Renting a boat, Ólafsson sailed to the island. Imagine his disappointment when, leveling with an oncoming boat, he discovered his opponent in it.
Petrosian beat the Icelander in the boat race, and unsurprisingly, easily won their game the next day. It is said that in 1962, during the Candidates Tournament in Willemstad on the island of Curaçao, where due to the climate footwear is not a necessity, Petrosian noticed a luxurious shoe store.
On his day off, he visited it with other Soviet Grandmasters. A large advertising poster caught their eye: “Your best move can only be made in shoes bought from our store!” Of the entire delegation, only Petrosian left the store with a purchase and… he won the tournament!
The Queen’s Move
One of Tigran Petrosyan’s best moves was marrying Rona Yakovlevna Avinezer. She was four years his senior and had a son from her first marriage. In the 1950s, Rona was passionate about chess, and many grandmasters courted her, including Tigran Petrosyan and Efim Geller.
When asked whom she preferred, she answered, “The Interzonal will show!” In 1952, both young grandmasters earned the right to compete in the Candidates Tournament at the Interzonal held in Sweden. However, Petrosyan edged out Geller by a small margin, and the situation in his personal life soon resolved in his favor.
Eleven years later, Petrosyan became the World Chess Champion. It’s no wonder that people in Moscow joked, “Where Rona is, there’s the crown!” Rona Yakovlevna became an epic figure in Soviet chess. This energetic woman was actively involved in the country’s chess life and in preparing for chess competitions.
In addition to family care, warmth, and attention, Tigran Vartanovich greatly benefited from her organizational skills and her ability to interact with powerful figures. Chess in the Soviet Union was part of state policy, and these nuances played a significant role.
Rona Yakovlevna, of course, knew what people said about her in the chess world. Once, recalling Tigran Petrosyan’s first victory in the USSR Championship in 1959, held in his hometown Tbilisi, she decided to clarify something. “Certainly, everything at home was very organized—both nutrition and schedule. All true.
But the main thing was Tigran himself, his remarkable talent. Our neighbor at our summer house was master Beylin. So could I have made a world champion out of Misha Beylin too? What I actually told Tigran, and told him often, was: play, play to the end. You see what your opponents can’t even fathom.”
The story goes that this victory was celebrated with noise and Caucasian flair at one of the restaurants in Tbilisi. The organizers of the celebratory dinner were eager to please the guest of honor and kept ordering popular songs by his friend Arno Babajanian.
However, not everyone present appreciated this. The evening nearly ended in a massive fight after one of the restaurant’s patrons slashed a drum with a dagger. Fortunately, that very sense of danger that Petrosyan was known for alerted him that it was time to leave just before the incident.
“People called me the Iron Tigran, but nobody knows what it took for me to maintain my composure,” once said the 9th World Chess Champion. The struggle for the chess crown, in which Petrosyan was a direct participant for over a quarter of a century, took a toll on his strength and nervous energy.
Petrosyan excelled in the art of preparing for competitions, in his ability to mentally and physically focus on achieving his goals. He became the USSR champion four times, winning these tournaments exclusively in his native cities—Tbilisi, Moscow (twice), and Yerevan.
Trading Elephants for Knights
Tigran Vartanovich eagerly absorbed everything new, took an interest in photography, and then—with the advancement of technology—in cinematography. His wife helped him recover his strength and recharge his energy for new victories. The Petrosyan home and their summer house often hosted guests—composers, artists, and writers.
One of them was Arno Babajanian—a relentless rival in backgammon (according to Petrosyan’s stepson Mikhail, the score was roughly even, but the heat during the games was intense) and an antagonist in sports loyalties. Tigran Vartanovich was a lifelong fan of “Spartak,” while Arno Arutyunovich, in those years, rooted for Moscow’s “Dynamo.” This, however, didn’t stop them from going to football games together. Football was another hobby of Petrosyan’s.
He never missed an opportunity to attend his favorite team’s training sessions and participate in game analyses. He also attended “Spartak” hockey matches. It is said that shortly after getting married, Petrosyan was offered to switch his sports association from “Spartak” to the army-based one, with promises of improved housing conditions.
Rona Yakovlevna liked this proposal, but Tigran Vartanovich was skeptical and raised a killer argument: “Today, for a better apartment, I will switch from ‘Spartak’ to CSKA, and tomorrow, I’ll meet a better wife and will switch from you to her. How would you feel about that?”
After that, Rona herself took care of the housing exchange. Grandmaster Leonid Shamkovich, after visiting the Petrosyans’ apartment on Pyatnitskaya Street, was surprised by how they managed to exchange a modest 30-square-meter communal apartment for a luxurious suite. “Petrosyan knows how to trade only elephants for knights. Everything else is traded by his wife!” Grandmaster Alexander Kotov wittily explained.
The Rise of Armenian Chess
“A lively natural intellect and limitations, common sense and sensitivity, openness and suspicion, charm and Eastern cunning, the ability to extract the maximum from Soviet institutions and irony towards the reality surrounding him—all were bizarrely mixed in a complex cocktail named ‘Tigran Petrosyan’,” retrospectively characterized the ninth World Champion, international grandmaster and journalist Genna Sosonko.
The talent of Petrosyan was multifaceted. He was adept at selecting his team—coaches, seconds, and associates—even after losing his championship title, when he took up chess journalism and created the weekly “64,” which became very popular in the USSR.
Many subsequently renowned grandmasters were students of the correspondence school founded by Petrosyan, including Boris Gelfand, one of the participants in the last world championship match. The ninth champion passed away very early, in 1984, at the age of just 55.
His contributions to Armenia went beyond being the first Armenian to ascend to the chess Olympus. International grandmaster Sergey Shipov succinctly stated: “With his brilliant career, Tigran Vartanovich essentially laid the foundation for the Armenian school of chess. I am talking not just about the republic in the Caucasus, but the people as a whole. Wherever Petrosyan played in tournaments, he was inevitably supported by representatives of the Armenian diaspora, who exist on all continents. As for Antarctica, I can’t vouch, though I wouldn’t be surprised if… if Tigran Vartanovich had traveled there in his time, among the penguins there would definitely have been his fervent fans!”
P.S. In the 1960s, the name Tigran became one of the most popular in Armenia. When Tigran Vartanovich won the World Champion title, a new family member was expected in the household of his namesake, a chess amateur Levon Petrosyan.
“If a son is born, we’ll name him Tigran and let him become a chess player,” decided the future father. Now, Tigran L. Petrosyan is a renowned grandmaster, a winner of the World Chess Olympiad in Dresden as part of the Armenian national team, and the country’s champion of 2012. In the rating lists of the Chess Federation of Armenia, there are nine Tigran Petrosyans, including one international master.
Another namesake of the ninth world champion competes under the Russian flag.
In the Name of the Champion
The name of Tigran Petrosian has been given to the Chess House in Yerevan (he himself laid the foundation stone of the building), next to which stands a bust of the ninth World Chess Champion, sculpted by Ara Shiraz.
In the capital of Armenia, in the Davitashen administrative district, on a street named after Tigran Petrosian, a monument to the great chess player has been erected (the author is Norair Kagramanian). Another monument (by Misha Margaryan) is located in Aparan, in a square also bearing his name.
According to his official biography, Petrosian was born in Tbilisi and lived there until he was 17. However, recent information has been uncovered suggesting that the future champion was actually born in the village of Mulki in the Aparan district of the Armenian SSR, and his family moved to Tbilisi when he was 2 years old.
Tigran Petrosian’s name graces a chess club in Moscow and Armenian community clubs (academies) in several cities around the world, including Tallinn, Paris, and others. In honor of Tigran Petrosian, Armenian postage stamps have been issued, and memorial tournaments are held in Yerevan, Moscow, and Simferopol.
In 2009, the International Chess Federation (FIDE) established the Tigran Petrosian Medal for coaching achievements in recent years. Among the recipients of this medal is Armenian Grandmaster Smbat Lputian.
Tigran Petrosian:
- Born on June 17, 1929.
- Became an International Grandmaster in 1952.
- Ninth World Chess Champion from 1963 to 1969.
- Winner of the World Chess Olympiads in 1958, 1960, 1962, 1964, 1966, 1968, 1970, 1972, 1974.
- Winner of the Team European Championships in 1957, 1961, 1965, 1970, 1973, 1977, 1980, 1983.
- Earned a Ph.D. in Philosophy in 1968.
- Awarded the Order of Friendship of Peoples (1981), “Sign of Honor” (1965), and the Medal “For Labor Valor” (1957).
- Passed away on August 13, 1984, and is buried in the Vagankovo Cemetery in Moscow.
Armen Nikogosyan | From the archive of Armen Nikogosyan, Photolur
