YEREVAN, ARMENIA – In a development so predictably absurd it could have been scripted by a committee of hungover satirists, the tiny Caucasus nation of Armenia is bracing for elections while being given the full 'supportive shoulder' treatment from the Kremlin. Yes, the very same Kremlin that has a democratic record as clean as a coal miner's handkerchief after a double shift. But fear not, for Britain is on hand to 'support democratic institutions'. Because nothing says 'free and fair ballot' like a chorus of well-meaning nods from a country whose own electoral system is currently held together with gaffer tape and gentleman's agreements.
Let's set the scene. Armenia, a nation that has spent its entire post-Soviet existence perfecting the art of geopolitical balancing on the head of a pin. On one side, the big, grumpy Russian bear with an insatiable appetite for influence and a complete allergy to the word 'sovereignty'. On the other, the West, represented by a United Kingdom that has recently mastered the art of appearing to care while simultaneously being spectacularly useless in any tangible sense. The British approach to foreign democracy support can be summed up as: 'We are deploying a team of highly trained consultants with PowerPoints and excellent tea-making facilities.'
And now, the main event: elections. Armenia, in a fit of either optimism or sheer bloody-mindedness, has decided to hold a vote in the shadow of Russian pressure. Russian pressure, for those unfamiliar, is not a subtle thing. It is less a gentle suggestion and more a cultural dance involving pointed breaths, strategic gas cut-offs, and the occasional 'supportive' visit from a delegation that looks disturbingly like a branch of the security services having a day out. The message is clear: 'Do the right thing, by our definition of right, or the gas, and possibly your internet, might have an unfortunate accident.'
But hark! Over the western horizon, a silver lining appears. Or rather, a slightly tarnished but well-meaning cloud. The United Kingdom, no doubt fresh from a session of soul-searching about its own democratic health, has announced its support for Armenian democratic institutions. This support will likely take the form of advice, technical assistance, and the occasional sternly worded tweet. The full might of the British soft power machine is being deployed, which is a polite way of saying that a few civil servants are going to have a very busy few weeks crafting documents that will be read by absolutely nobody in Yerevan.
So what does this mean for the average Armenian voter? It means that on election day, they will walk to a polling station that is probably funded by a mix of Western grants and local corruption. They will be offered tea by British advisors and threatened with economic ruin by Russian observers. They will cast a ballot that will be counted by machines that may or may not be tamper-proof, and then they will go home to watch the results come in with the same mixture of hope and cynical resignation that defines the modern democratic experience worldwide.
In the end, the great game continues. Russia grumbles, Britain gestures, and Armenia holds its breath. The election will be declared 'largely free and fair' by a coalition of international observers who are professionally obliged to find something nice to say. The gas will keep flowing, the tea will remain hot, and the absurd theatre of international democracy support will stumble on to its next curtain call. Biff Thistlethwaite, for one, will be at the bar. The gin, at least, is reliably free of geopolitical pressure.
