It is with profound sorrow and deep respect that we honor the life of Dr. Haroutune K. Armenian, epidemiologist, educator, humanitarian, and gifted artist, who passed away on July 15, 2025. His absence will be felt across campuses, continents, and generations.
Born in Beirut in 1942, Haroutune's journey was one of brilliance and constant service. He earned his medical degree from AUB in 1968, and at a time when few physicians pursued this path, he undertook public health training at the Johns Hopkins Bloomberg School of Public Health, receiving his MPH in 1972 and DrPH in Epidemiology in 1974. Those who worked or studied with him remember how naturally he questioned assumptions, rejected dogma, and drew insights across disciplines, and that habit shaped everything that followed.
Haroutune's academic and leadership roles were extensive and influential, from war-torn Lebanon to post-earthquake Armenia, from oil-rich Bahrain to the classrooms of Johns Hopkins and UCLA, leading positions that shaped institutions and touched the lives of many. He served as Dean of the Faculty of Health Sciences at AUB from 1981 to 1987, then moved to the US, where he became Deputy Chair and Interim Chair of the Department of Epidemiology at John Hopkins and Director of its MPH program. He was later named Professor Emeritus at Johns Hopkins and served as Professor in Residence and Associate Dean of Academic Programs at the UCLA Fielding School of Public Health. His leadership as President of the American University of Armenia (AUA) from 1997 to 2009 marked a defining chapter, where he was also the founding dean of the College of Health Sciences and a steady advocate for interdisciplinary learning in a rebuilding nation.
Throughout his career, he made vital contributions to public health systems across the Middle East, including Bahrain and Qatar, where he helped develop primary health care centers and training programs. For him, epidemiology was service. He believed data could help communities move from conflict and loss toward recovery and health, and he practiced that belief in settings marked by war, displacement, and disasters.
His scholarly output was wide-ranging, including over 100 peer-reviewed papers and 20 books, addressing topics ranging from chronic disease and cancer to familial Mediterranean fever and HIV. He was among the first to examine the health effects of wars and natural disasters, documenting burdens that others overlooked, and insisting that evidence be used to guide humane responses.

Beyond academia, Haroutune was an artist in the truest sense. He took up watercolor painting during the Lebanese civil war in 1976, and the practice stayed with him until the very end. His artwork was exhibited in Beirut, Los Angeles, and Yerevan, and several volumes of his paintings, including Colors and Words and Past Here Does Not Yet Melt, continue to speak of his enduring spirit and his way of seeing patterns, people, and places with equal care.
His awards were many and well deserved. Among them are the Movses Khorenatsi Medal (Armenia), the Presidential Medal of the Order of Cedars (Lebanon), the Golden Apple Award for Teaching Excellence and the Ernest Lyman Stebbins Medal for Education at Johns Hopkins.
But those of us who knew him personally, as students, colleagues, or mentees will remember a man of great humility and gratitude whose sharp intellect was always turned toward the growth of others. He listened for potential, pushed gently but firmly, and celebrated his students' successes as if they were his own. He embodied a rare integration of science, humanity, and creativity, showing us that public health is not just a discipline but a calling grounded in service.
He is survived by his beloved wife, Sona—his companion on a shared path of work, art, and purpose—his son, and his grandchildren. We extend our deepest condolences to them. The Faculty of Health Sciences and the wider public health family mourn this profound loss and commit to carrying forward his legacy with inquisitiveness, compassion, and a readiness to learn across boundaries, as he taught us.
May his soul rest in eternal peace.