On December 18, Prime Minister Nikol Pashinyan responded to a question from a journalist at “Aravot” newspaper regarding his government’s approach to the return of Armenians from Nagorno-Karabakh. Instead of addressing the ongoing genocidal actions by Azerbaijan, he focused on the return agenda, questioning who would truly benefit from it. “Are we condemning the people of Artsakh to a life of uncertainty, without a permanent address?” he asked, asserting that the address of the Armenian people is the Republic of Armenia, within its internationally recognized borders.
In his remarks, Pashinyan elaborated on the political philosophy guiding his administration. He stated that the foundation of their current policies is an analysis of history. He warned against a path that would lead to Armenia becoming a pawn in the geopolitical games of larger powers, suggesting that such a route would ultimately diminish the Armenian people’s standing in international relations. “We must learn from our mistakes,” he cautioned, emphasizing that embracing victimhood would only lead to a perpetual state of survival rather than genuine statehood.
Pashinyan’s assertion raises critical questions about the nature of national rights and interests. According to him, the path to becoming a fully-fledged state involves relinquishing rights that contradict the interests of neighboring countries. In essence, he argues that Armenia’s national interests must align with those of its neighbors, a stance that many critics view as a dangerous concession.
This perspective appears to stem from a profound misunderstanding of the nature of international relations. The realm of inter-state relations is characterized by fierce competition, where national interests dictate the behavior of countries. Azerbaijan, for instance, is actively promoting the concept of “Western Azerbaijan,” leveraging the historical ties of thousands of Azerbaijanis to their former homes as a basis for territorial claims. This strategy is motivated by Azerbaijan’s state interests, driven by the need to secure more resources and territory in a competitive regional landscape.
In stark contrast, Pashinyan’s rhetoric suggests that Armenia should not pursue rights that conflict with its neighbors’ interests. This line of thinking not only risks the loss of sovereignty but also raises the specter of statehood itself. There cannot be sovereign states that condition their existence on the priorities of neighboring countries. Such a position is not merely naive; it is fundamentally flawed. States that fail to assert their interests inevitably become targets for absorption by more powerful neighbors.
Returning to Pashinyan’s statements, it is evident that he is not ignorant of these political axioms. So why does he espouse such seemingly absurd notions? The answer may lie in the current geopolitical realities facing Armenia. The country is rapidly integrating into a Turkish sphere of influence, often at the expense of its national aspirations and recognized rights in international relations. This integration occurs without any preservation of Armenian interests, as the ruling administration appears to pursue a policy of erasing national symbols and institutions.
In this context, Pashinyan’s rhetoric can be understood as a response to the undeniable fact that Armenia has been effectively occupied by adversarial forces. When the truth is laid bare, the only recourse left is to distract the public with nonsensical narratives—a tactic that Pashinyan has mastered.
As the political landscape evolves, the implications of such leadership decisions will resonate deeply within Armenian society. The question remains: will Armenia’s citizens recognize the precarious path their country is on before it is too late?
Saro Saroyan