The Republicans are in power but without it. They are the government but have lost control of it. They dominate the National Assembly but seem emptied of it. Pashinyan put it best; they are a ghost of the past.
by Edgar Martirosyan
Two years ago I described Serzh Sargsian’s presidency as disastrous for Armenia on a macro level, despite the successful and experienced statesmanship displayed by Sargsian in dealing with a number of crises since taking office. I then assumed — based on his ability to weather numerous challenges in his extensive political career – that he would change course and slowly implement sweeping reforms that would rehabilitate his legacy in time, maintain his security, and put Armenia on a course of slow but steady democratization.
I was wrong. That did not happen. Instead, and despite having taken some steps in the right direction, Sargsian did exactly what I said he would not do; he named himself Prime Minister. I erroneously believed he would do not such thing because it would be political suicide. It would mobilize his opponents, reinvigorate society’s resistance, and perhaps most importantly, detrimentally impact whatever remnants of credibility and support he had left within political circles both at home and abroad outside of his party.
Nikol Pashinyan, for his part, has had his finger on the pulse of society’s discontent since 2008, and arguably even before. Despite his own parliamentary bloc’s reservations, and in absolute loyalty to his convictions, he recognized the opportunity and took his resistance to Sargsian’s nomination and election to the Premiership to the streets. With virtually no resource except his sheer will, he lifted his hands, opened his palms to the sky, and launched a peaceful revolutionary movement that will be studied for decades to come by political science students the world over. And when the numbers on the street began to swell, Sargsian made the ultimate and final blunder, issuing a veiled threat of violence against the peaceful demonstrators on live television by suggesting that Pashinyan had not learned anything from the violent repressions unleashed on protesters on March 1, 2008. Within thirty minutes Pashinyan and two other members of parliament were taken into custody in a very public and aggressive show of force by the authorities.
Armenia erupted instantaneously. The breaking point had been reached. Tens of thousands again took to the streets and remained there into the night; with their de facto leader under arrest and incommunicado, young men and women mostly in their twenties and early thirties persevered forward. Pashinyan’s wife, Anna Hakobyan, was asked to speak at the rally in Republic Square that night. She could be heard protesting, “but what should I say?” Yet, when Hakobyan turned to the crowd to speak, she found her voice instantly. Her spirited and feminine message was both moving and clear: love thy neighbor, be peaceful, but most importantly, fight on!
By that point Sargsian’s hours were numbered. His seemingly impenetrable armor was about to crumbled. Just a few hours later, Sargsian sent shockwaves throughout the world by stepping down: “Nikol Pashinyan was right. I was wrong.”
Pashinyan was released.
In an instant, Pashinyan’s popular movement had somehow, and perhaps inadvertently and unexpectedly, found Achilles’ heel, and down came the Giant. Sargsian’s resignation statement, which was in all likelihood meant only to be gracious and not empowering, further buoyed the rise of Pashinyan’s notoriety and influence. Pashinyan, Ararat Mirzoyan, and Sasun Mikaelyan were immediately released, and a most unexpected Spring, full of promise yet ripe with explosiveness, spread like wildfire throughout the country. Overnight the relentless yet insignificant journalist-turned-member-of-parliament was now commanding crowds of over a hundred thousand strong in Republic Square. Armenia was in the midst of a revolutionary movement, and there was no denying it.
But what was still an elusive concept was the level of entrenchment the Republican Party had secured in the last twenty years’ time. Their reach went beyond the immediate, their roots extended deep down, and their presence – Sargsian or not – would not be shaken with his resignation. After all, the party had managed to do what no other Armenian political organization – other than the Armenian Revolutionary Federation – had managed to do in recent memory; become a robust and well-oiled institution.
So, Sargsian’s sun set and Pashinyan’s dawn broke. But the forecast was still cloudy, with the Republican Party controlling the National Assembly. The center of power was all but assured to stay in their grasp. Pashinyan’s demands had been met. What more could he want? People would go home. Things would adjust slightly, sure, but in the end everything would return to relative normalcy. They had suffered a significant blow, but it was going to be fine.
Pashinyan, however, proved to be a far more calculated and seasoned political strategist than anyone – including this author – ever gave him credit for. He realized that a second’s delay now would threaten the popular movement spontaneously born which he now commanded. Sure, Sargsian was gone. But the RPA – the proverbial Achilles – was still alive. He refused to go home. The demigod was gravely wounded. It was either now or never. It was going to be now.
Republic Square – and various squares throughout the country – became the new National Assembly, with Pashinyan masterfully presided over the sessions organized at these various assemblies. As Pashinyan saw it, the only way to break apart the monopoly was to rise to the position of prime minister, disperse the National Assembly somehow or another, and hold new elections under the auspices of his premiership. There would be no compromise. The People’s candidate would be the next prime minister, and Pashinyan was the People’s candidate.
As his rhetoric sharpened, so did the criticism of those who largely found themselves spectators or sidelined. Pashinyan, these critics argued, simply wanted to be a more refined version of a new strong man. He was displaying, they argued, a particular disregard for institutional norms and precedent, and particularly the institution of the state. He wanted to command the populace; only he could become prime minister; he would not negotiate; his supporters would not go home until complete and utter victory – that is, the dismantling of the Republican Party – had been achieved.
And what about our national security?
What experience does he have?
What would the Russians think?
What would the Russians do?
Who would govern?
Who would listen to him?
Look at all those inexperienced kids around him!
He must be a tool of the West!
What these early and borderline-absurd critics fail to recognize is their own consistently proven complacency in the face of the Republican Party’s bastardized monopoly over Armenian politics. For two decades Armenia suffocated under the heel of corrupt and contented so-called technocrats, fattened and groggy oligarchs, self-serving diasporan “philanthropists” and bargain-priced “experts,” and mid-level managers with expensive suits and underwhelming resumes who slowly suffocated the country’s economy, blunted its institutional underpinnings, and eroded its sociopolitical and intellectual aspirations. Focusing on Pashinyan’s seeming shortcomings (discerned in a week or less) while having glossed over the glaring failings of Sargsian and his administration is, to put it mildly, nothing short of ludicrous given the circumstances. It was politics and process yesterday (when Sargsian was in power), yet blasphemous hubris today (when Pashinyan commands real power). It would take time to evolve yesterday (when the Republican Party ran roughshod over the country), yet it is highway robbery today (when a group of inexperienced young men and women, beholden to no one, literally took their fate into their own hands). Besides, our abuser (yesterday) was a familiar one.
Perhaps tomorrow, once all this is said and done, together we’ll touch upon what Pashinyan did and tomorrow will do wrong. But, today, this movement has already won. The RPA, despite being in power, finds itself in the uncomfortable position of relying on its regional allies for leverage against its own people. They are in power but without it. They are the government but have lost control of it. They dominate the National Assembly but seem emptied of it. Pashinyan put it best; they are a ghost of the past.
And the seat of the Armenian government (and its National Assembly) have moved to Republic Square. The man standing there today, at the center of his National Assembly, is Nikol Pashinyan. Today the RPA has been dealt a vote of no confidence, and it is a resounding one. Tomorrow Pashinyan may himself be subject to one. But today…today Pashinyan is the only logical choice. Today he’s the one.
Edgar Martirosyan, a practicing attorney in Los Angeles, CA
Serzh Sargsian: a micro maven, a macro disaster – Interview with Edgar Martirosyan
The Challenge of Sassoun: From Erebuni to Yerevan – by Edgar Martirosyan
