Armenia’s pivot towards the West has sent shockwaves through the Caucasus. Yesterday’s election victory for the reformist Civil Contract party, led by Prime Minister Nikol Pashinyan, was a defiant rejection of Russian influence. The result: a clear majority for a government that has made no secret of its desire to deepen ties with the European Union and NATO. For Moscow, already reeling from the war in Ukraine, this is another setback. For Britain, it is an opportunity to consolidate a fragile European front.
The move comes at a cost. Armenia’s economy, long integrated with Russia’s, is fragile. Remittances from the Armenian diaspora in Russia sustain thousands of families. Trade with the Eurasian Economic Union, dominated by Moscow, makes up a third of Armenia’s exports. Pashinyan’s gamble is that Western investment and security guarantees can fill the gap. But the West’s track record in the region is patchy. Georgia’s pro-Western dreams were crushed by a brief war in 2008 and the West did little to stop the subsequent occupation of its territories.
Yet this victory is personal for many Armenians. It is a repudiation of the 2020 Nagorno-Karabakh war, where Russia’s inaction left Armenia humiliated. The peacekeeping mission Moscow brokered has failed to prevent Azerbaijani incursions. For the families of soldiers who died in last year’s clashes, Moscow’s promises ring hollow. The win is also a vote for democracy: Pashinyan’s opponents are former oligarchs and Kremlin-friendly strongmen. Ordinary people want a government that answers to Yerevan, not the Kremlin.
British diplomacy has been quietly building bridges. The Foreign Office has increased aid to Armenia, focused on cyber security and energy diversification. Trade missions have touted British expertise in mining and tech. But the real test will be whether Downing Street can persuade European allies to follow suit. France has already shown solidarity, but Germany and Italy are wary of antagonising Russia. The EU’s Eastern Partnership programme offers little hard cash. And the United States is distracted.
The risk is that Britain talks big but delivers little. Armenia needs tangible support: cheap loans, visa liberalisation, and military training. Without these, public patience may fray. The opposition is already painting the West as fickle. In the streets of Yerevan, the mood is hopeful but anxious. “We want to be part of Europe,” a shopkeeper told me. “But Europe must show it wants us too.”
For now, Britain has a chance to prove that its post-Brexit diplomacy is more than grand gestures. The Caucasus is a dangerous neighbourhood, full of frozen conflicts and energy pipelines. If the West fails Armenia, it will not be the first partner left in the cold. But if it succeeds, it could weaken Russia’s grip on its former empire and strengthen the democratic front at Europe’s edge. The verdict is not yet in. What is certain is that the price of bread in Yerevan now depends on decisions made in London and Brussels.
