In a move that has Kremlin officials choking on their borscht, Armenia has dared to flirt with the European Union, sparking talks over borders and allegiances. As if the Caucasus weren't already a geography teacher's migraine, Yerevan is now playing a game of geo-political footsie with Brussels. The audacity is staggering.
You see, for decades, Armenia has been Russia’s weepy younger brother, forever borrowing sugar and complaining about the rent. But now, Prime Minister Nikol Pashinyan, a man with the nervous energy of a caffeinated weasel, has decided to cosy up to the EU. The Kremlin’s response?
A crackdown so predictable it’s practically a farce. They’ve tightened the screws on trade, energy, and probably the import of Armenian apricots, the only thing they could plausibly sanction without looking like bullies. The EU, for its part, has welcomed Armenia with the enthusiasm of a host offering a stale biscuit to an unexpected guest.
Border talks have commenced, because nothing says “diplomacy” like arguing over a line on a map that was drawn by a drunk cartographer in 1921. Meanwhile, the people of Armenia watch with the weary resignation of punters at a cricket match that’s been rained off. They know that pivoting to the West is like swapping a wolf for a bear: both will eat you, but one might offer you a glass of wine first.
Still, the theatre continues. Pashinyan makes speeches, the EU sends observers, and Putin glowers from his bunker. In the end, it’s all just a dance on the head of a pin, performed by pygmies in a hurricane.
But at least the gin is flowing in Yerevan’s press bars, and for that, we should be grateful.
