Armenia’s defining vote: Pashinyan wants voters to choose between peace and war. Are Armenians convinced?
Tatevik Hovhannisyan
Not long ago, Nikol Pashinyan symbolized hope and political renewal. The leader of Armenia’s Velvet Revolution came to power promising to dismantle entrenched corruption, eliminate the grip of oligarchic networks, and build a more democratic state.
Today, he finds himself in a very different position. Rather than leading political change, Pashinyan is fighting to preserve his political future. The parliamentary elections on June 7 have been shaping up to be the most consequential vote Armenia has faced since the loss of Nagorno-Karabakh. For many citizens, this is no ordinary electoral contest. It has become a “referendum” on the country’s direction after one of the most traumatic chapters in its modern history.
Pashinyan has worked hard to frame the stakes in simple terms. His message is clear: either he is re-elected, which is equivalent to Armenia continuing down the path of peace and normalization with Azerbaijan, or others come to power, bringing war.
Shifting focus, an essential question emerges: Peace or something else?
At the center of the campaign lies the question that has dominated Armenian politics since the 2020 war: what comes next?
For Pashinyan and his supporters, the answer is straightforward. Armenia cannot afford an endless confrontation with Azerbaijan. The country’s priority, they argue, should be to make a peace deal with Azerbaijan and further normalize relations with Turkey. In this view, seeking normalization is not an act of surrender but a recognition of geopolitical realities.
His opponents see matters differently. They argue that repeated concessions have brought few tangible security guarantees and that negotiations increasingly take place on terms set by the stronger side. As a result, even the word “peace” has become politically contentious. For some, it represents a path toward stability. For others, it sounds increasingly like capitulation. That disagreement now defines Armenia’s political debate.
Pashinyan now positions himself less as a government leader and more as the key figure who can guarantee stability in Armenia after the trauma of war.
The revolutionary has lost some of his shine.
For years, Pashinyan appeared politically resilient, surviving crises that might have ended the careers of many leaders. That resilience is now being tested. Pre-campaign polling (International Republican Institute, 2026) suggested public trust in the prime minister has fallen to its lowest level since the Velvet Revolution (18–20 %), but slightly rose during the campaign period (27-29%). Nevertheless, it is not the same picture as before. The reasons are varied. Some voters are disappointed by the failure to make reforms and believe promises on corruption and institutional change remain only partially fulfilled. Others continue to feel the emotional and political impact of the loss of Nagorno-Karabakh. Critics also point to the growing concentration of power and an increasingly polarised political environment. Yet declining popularity should not be mistaken for political weakness. If anything, the current campaign reveals a politician who understands the seriousness of the challenge, perfectly reads the mood of society, and is actively seeking new sources of support to offset losses among traditional voters.
One of the most notable features of the pre-campaign period was the effort to connect with younger Armenians. Support for the ruling party tends to be weaker among younger voters, especially in urban areas. At the same time, youth dissatisfaction has not translated into a strong opposition movement. More often, it has resulted in disengagement and political apathy. That’s why other parties have also deliberately directed their activities towards attracting the youngsters.
For Pashinyan, this presents both a challenge and an opportunity. He has adopted a noticeably more informal communication style, leaning heavily on social media and appearances targeting younger audiences, such as public musical performances and personalized events. The strategy centers on creating an emotional connection with disengaged youth rather than persuading with policy.
In that sense, Armenia is reflecting a broader global trend. Political leaders increasingly compete not only through programs and policies, but through visibility, authenticity, and personal branding.
Reviving populist repertoires: “I am one of you.”
At the same time, Pashinyan has returned to tactics that proved highly effective during the Velvet Revolution. He has intensified visits to towns and villages outside Yerevan, meeting citizens directly in their yards, at their homes, and shops, and emphasizing his connection with ordinary Armenians. These appearances reinforce the image of a leader who remains close to the public rather than isolated within political institutions.
Shared meals and informal conversations evoke memories of Pashinyan as a grassroots politician who challenged the old system. This approach, often used globally in response to declining popularity, aims to close the gap between leaders and voters. The question remains whether it still works after nearly a decade in office.
The politics of state resources
Another, controversial, aspect of the campaign concerns the growing role of financial incentives within the state sector. Opposition figures and parts of society argue that bonuses and additional payments to public officials have become an important tool for maintaining loyalty within key institutions. Government supporters reject this interpretation, insisting that higher compensation is necessary to retain qualified personnel and improve public administration. Whatever the explanation, the issue has acquired significant political importance.
In a country where many households continue to face economic difficulties, generous payments to state employees have become a focal point in broader debates about fairness, governance, and the use of public resources. In effect, previously informal mechanisms have been reframed as institutional tools of political consolidation.
Spreading fear remains Pashinyan’s strongest political asset.
If there is one theme that runs consistently through the government’s campaign, it is peace. The message is simple: Armenia needs to continue its efforts to reinforce the peace already established with Azerbaijan. At the same time, there is a warning that if others come to power, there will be war again.
This argument resonates in a society still affected by war. The loss of Nagorno-Karabakh remains an open wound, shaping public opinion and framing the election as a decision about the country’s security rather than the government’s performance.
Critics argue that such framing narrows the political debate. Instead of discussing economic development, institutional reforms, or democratic governance, voters are encouraged to focus primarily on a single question: who is best able to prevent another war?
Why the opposition still struggles
One of the enduring paradoxes of Armenian politics is that Pashinyan’s declining popularity has not translated into a surge of support for the opposition - the main reason is fragmentation. Calls from the first president and other small parties for a unified opposition front have been circulating for months, yet little progress has been made. Rival leaders continue to pursue their own political projects rather than rally behind a common platform.
Among the figures attracting the most attention is businessman Samvel Karapetyan, who made his fortune in Russia. His message focuses heavily on economic development, industrial policy, and restoring closer ties with Russia. Many observers increasingly see him as the strongest challenger outside the ruling camp and as a potential proxy for advancing pro-Kremlin interests by overthrowing Pashinyan. Even so, it remains unclear whether he can build a coalition broad enough to seriously threaten Pashinyan’s position.
Recent developments during the campaign have also raised questions about the credibility of Karapetyan’s profile. Allegations that members of his team have offered financial incentives for rally attendance or electoral mobilization evoke memories of political practices that Armenian society overwhelmingly rejected during the 2018 Velvet Revolution. Additionally, reports claiming that large numbers of Russian Armenians are being brought into the country to support Karapetyan at the ballot box have further cast a shadow over the reformist image he seeks to project. While these accusations have yet to be substantiated by the relevant authorities, they have nevertheless fuelled public debate and skepticism.
Former president (1998-2008), Robert Kocharyan, whose political comeback strengthened Pashinyan’s position after the Nagorno-Karabakh war, faces a different problem. While he remains one of Armenia’s most recognizable political figures, he is also deeply divisive. For some voters, he offers experience and credibility; for many others, however, he represents the very system that society, to a major extent, does not want to return to.
Another prominent opposition figure is oligarch Gagik Tsarukyan, a key representative of the former political elite. Having previously supported both the Velvet Revolution and Pashinyan, he has now emerged as one of the prime minister’s most vocal opponents. Current projections suggest that Karapetyan, Kocharyan, and Tsarukyan are the three opposition leaders most likely to surpass the electoral threshold and secure parliamentary representation.
Alongside these established figures, several newer political actors have sought to present themselves as alternatives. One such figure is former Yerevan mayor Hayk Marutyan, once a supporter of Pashinyan, who now promotes a reformist program centered on European integration and social democratic principles. Another emerging leader is former Ombudsman Arman Tatoyan, whose appeal rests largely on his reputation for integrity, commitment to the rule of law, preservation of national identity, and emphasis on a dignified peace.
Nevertheless, the broader political contest continues to revolve around Pashinyan and the three leading opposition figures. This dynamic has largely overshadowed newer political forces, limiting their visibility and making it difficult for them to establish themselves as viable alternatives in voters’ eyes.
Russia can no longer take Armenia for granted.
For years, elections across the post-Soviet space were often viewed as a barometer of Russia’s influence in its neighborhood. Analysts and policymakers alike tended to ask a familiar question: can Moscow still shape political outcomes in countries that were once firmly embedded within its sphere of influence? Armenia’s upcoming election may offer a more nuanced answer.
The issue is no longer whether Russia retains leverage in Armenia. It does - economic ties remain deep, energy dependence has not disappeared, and hundreds of thousands of Armenians continue to live and work in Russia. The institutional links built over decades are still very much in place. Armenia remains a member of the Eurasian Economic Union, and despite increasingly visible tensions in the political relationship, there has been no decisive break with the Russian-led structures that have long shaped the country’s external orientation. Yet influence and political authority are not the same thing.
The events surrounding Nagorno-Karabakh have fundamentally altered how many Armenians view Russia’s role in their country’s security. While Moscow remains an indispensable partner in some areas, it is no longer perceived by large segments of society as the unquestioned guarantor of Armenian interests. The assumptions that once underpinned the relationship have weakened, and with them the predictability that characterized much of the post-Soviet period.
This is what makes the current election particularly significant.
For the first time, the Armenian parliamentary elections have attracted significant attention in European and American policy circles. Western governments and institutions have become increasingly vocal in supporting Armenia’s sovereignty and resilience against perceived Russian pressure and hybrid threats. Against this backdrop, a number of statements by senior Russian officials have been interpreted in Armenia as attempts to influence the country’s political direction. Rather than strengthening pro-Russian sentiment, however, such interventions have produced the opposite effect, reinforcing skepticism towards Moscow among parts of the electorate. At the same time, growing engagement from Europe and the United States has led some Armenians to perceive that the country’s future need not be exclusively tied to Russia.
If Nikol Pashinyan succeeds in securing another mandate despite declining approval ratings, public frustration, and a highly polarised political environment, the result will be difficult to interpret through the traditional lens of Russian influence. Regardless of Moscow’s preferences, the Russian leadership would likely have little choice but to continue working with Pashinyan. It suggests that Moscow’s considerable economic and political leverage no longer automatically translates into the ability to shape Armenia’s domestic political trajectory.
At the same time, Armenian-Russian relations are unlikely to undergo a sudden rupture. The structural foundations of the relationship remain significant, including economic interdependence, energy links, cultural ties, and extensive human connections. Much could change, however, if the Armenian government succeeds in diversifying its export markets in response to Russian trade restrictions, develops alternative energy sources, and strengthens the country’s defense capabilities.
Ultimately, the significance of the election will become clearer only in its aftermath. The key question is whether Armenia and Russia will continue drifting apart, moving towards the kind of political “divorce” recently alluded to by Vladimir Putin, or whether both sides will seek a degree of rapprochement and accommodation. The answer will shape not only the future of bilateral relations but also Armenia’s broader geopolitical orientation in the years ahead.
The decisive voters may be those who never show up.
Ultimately, the outcome of the election may depend less on Pashinyan, Karapetyan, or Kocharyan than on those who remain undecided about whether to participate at all.
Previous elections suggest that low turnout tends to benefit the ruling party. Government supporters generally remain disciplined and motivated, while the opposition also has a relatively stable core electorate. The real uncertainty lies elsewhere. It lies among voters who have become detached from politics altogether - citizens exhausted by polarisation, disappointed by political elites, and unconvinced that any major political force offers a compelling vision for Armenia’s future. This may be the single most important constituency in the country today.
Whatever the final result, the upcoming election will be about far more than who forms the next government. It will test whether Armenian society has accepted either him and peace, or “them” and war, as the choice created by the prime minister. Most probably, the election results will reflect that picture, leaving out alternative forces.
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Tatevik Hovhannisyan is a political scientist specializing in political communications and civil society affairs. She is a graduate of the College of Europe in Natolin and Yerevan State University. Her areas of interest include the EU-Neighborhood relations, civic participation in developing countries, and advocacy.
Thanks for the publication 😊