Let us not mince words: the recent defiance of Russian pressure by Armenia’s pro-Western government is a spectacle that would make even the most jaded Victorian imperialist blush with pride. Here, at last, is a nation that has chosen to cast off the shackles of a decaying empire, the Kremlin’s own shadow of a once-great Rome, and embrace the so-called ‘universal values’ of the West. But as I sharpen my quill, I must ask: is this a genuine triumph for democracy, or simply another chapter in the long, tragicomic farce of great power manipulation, dressed up in the frock coat of liberal idealism?
Consider the historical parallels. When the Roman Republic fell, it did so not with a single cataclysmic event but through a series of decisions that seemed prudent at the time. The shift from republic to principate was gradual, encouraged by the very men who thought they were saving it. Similarly, Russia’s slow rot is a chronicle of missed opportunities and smug complacency. And now, Armenia, a small but proud nation, finds itself at the crossroads of this new imperial twilight. By choosing the West, it has gambled its security on the promise of British and American support. But is that promise worth the paper it is written on?
One cannot ignore the intellectual decadence that pervades our own political discourse. We speak of ‘pro-Western’ values as if they were an immutable truth, a new Gospel to be preached to the ‘lesser’ nations. Yet the history of British foreign policy is littered with the corpses of such noble crusades. From the Balkans to the Middle East, we have armed rebels, funded governments, and then, when the cost of complicity became too high, we withdrew, leaving chaos in our wake. Why should Armenia be any different?
The irony is thick enough to cut with a stiletto. For years, we have bemoaned the decline of national identity in the face of globalisation. We have written elegies to the loss of sovereignty, the erosion of borders, the triumph of the marketplace over the state. Yet when a nation like Armenia asserts its independence from Russian influence, we cheer it on as if it were a victory for our own values. But is it not simply another form of dependency? A client state in a new empire, with London and Washington as the new masters?
Of course, the defenders of this policy will point to the obvious: Russian aggression in Ukraine and the toxic nature of the Putin regime. But this is precisely the point. We are so blinded by our loathing of one empire that we fail to see the emergence of another. The British Empire was not built by men who thought of themselves as tyrants. They believed they were bringing civilisation, law, and order. And look where that got us: a legacy of resentment and a bureaucracy that still labours under the weight of its own past.
What, then, should Armenia do? I am not so naive as to suggest it should have stayed in the Russian orbit. That would be the counsel of a fool or a pacifist. But let us not pretend that this is a simple choice between good and evil. It is a choice between two flawed systems, two declining powers, and two sets of promises that are unlikely to be fully honoured. The only true triumph would be if Armenia could forge its own path, free from the patronising interference of both Moscow and Washington.
But that, I fear, is a fantasy for a bygone age. We live in an era of decadence, where the intellectuals have lost their nerve and the politicians their integrity. The glory of the Victorian era was not just in its empire but in its conviction. We no longer have that. We have only the hollow rhetoric of democracy, while we meddle in the affairs of smaller nations for our own geopolitical ends.
So, yes, today we celebrate Armenia’s defiance. But let us also keep a bottle of brandy ready for the inevitable hangover. For history teaches us that such triumphs are often the prelude to tragedy. And in this game of empires, the pawns are always the ones who pay the price.
