Armenia stands at a precipice. A snap election looms, and with it the spectre of Russian interference. The gall of it: a nation, once a proud outpost of the Soviet Empire, now dares to flirt with British-backed democratic reforms.
One might call it noble. I call it reckless. Look to history.
The Kremlin does not forgive. It does not forget. It crushes.
Consider the fate of Ukraine, of Georgia. The pattern is tediously clear. Yet here we are, watching Yerevan play the fool, imagining that parliamentary niceties can withstand the bear’s paw.
The British, of course, pat themselves on the back, waving the flag of liberalism while conveniently ignoring their own imperial hangover. The comparison to the late Victorian era is irresistible: a decadent West meddling in the East, convinced of its moral superiority, only to find itself outmanoeuvred by older, more cynical powers. Armenia’s choice is not between reform and stagnation.
It is between survival and a quixotic gesture. The intellectual decadence of our age blinds us to such realities. We cheer for democracy without acknowledging its fragility.
Let us see if Armenia’s voters have the wisdom to recognise that sometimes, the best revolution is the one that never happens.
