In what must surely count as one of the more remarkable electoral surprises of this dreary decade, Armenia has defied its Kremlin master and delivered a resounding victory to pro-Western forces. The headlines are giddy with relief, and a collective sigh is being exhaled from Whitehall to Brussels. But let us resist the temptation to break out the champagne just yet. For history, that stern schoolmaster, reminds us that such ‘triumphs’ are often but preludes to greater calamities.
Let us first acknowledge the immediate context. Russia, that clumsy bear, has been losing its grip on its near abroad with increasing haste. Ukraine slipped away, Georgia remains obstinate, and now Armenia – historically Russia’s most loyal Caucasian ally – has delivered a snub of epic proportions. The pro-West coalition, led by the charismatic Nikol Pashinyan, has won a decisive mandate, promising closer ties with the European Union and NATO. The Kremlin, predictably, is furious. Sanctions? Sabre-rattling? Certainly. But one suspects their impotence is the real story here.
For the United Kingdom, this is a juicy diplomatic morsel. British foreign policy, long adrift in a sea of post-Brexit irrelevance, has been handed a rare victory. Boris Johnson’s government, with its pretensions of global Britain, can now claim to have nurtured a democratic outpost on Russia’s doorstep. But let us not be naive. The cheerleaders in London would do well to recall that the Caucasus is a graveyard of great power ambitions. Empires have stumbled there: Persian, Ottoman, Soviet, and now, perhaps, the Western alliance. What exactly have we bought? A small, landlocked country with a fragile economy, unresolved conflicts with Azerbaijan and Turkey, and a diaspora that is wealthier than the homeland. This is not a foothold; it is a potential bog.
Consider the parallel with the late Roman Republic, which found itself entangled in client kingdoms from Armenia to Judaea. Each ‘victory’ in the East was a promise of future trouble. The corruption of the elite, the endless cycle of bribes and interventions, the erosion of the Republic’s moral fibre. Are we any different? Our foreign office revels in proxy victories while our own society decays. The Armenian people have voted for hope, but hope is a perishable commodity. They expect Western aid, investment, and protection. Will we provide it? Given our own economic straits and the fickleness of democratic electorates, I would not bet the family silver.
Furthermore, there is the intellectual decadence of the West to consider. We are a civilisation that prides itself on selecting winners, but we have a terrible record of fostering dependency and then abandoning our clients. The Kurds, the Ukrainians, the Afghan collaborators: the list is long. Armenia’s pro-West parties are well-meaning, but they face a Russia that is wounded and vengeful, a Turkey that is hostile, and an Iran that is unpredictable. The new government will need more than gestures; it will need hard power. And that, as the Romans knew, is where the empire becomes a millstone.
Yet, there is a deeper lesson here, one that touches on national identity. Armenia’s choice is a shining rebuke to the notion that nations must accept a sphere of influence. It is a declaration that small countries can have agency, that the will of the people matters. In this, it is genuinely uplifting. But we must also recognise that the West’s embrace is often a gilded cage. We offer loans that become chains, advisors that become overlords, and ideals that become excuses for intervention. The Armenians may have escaped the Russian bear, only to fall into the Western wolf’s den.
So, let us celebrate a little. It is good news, no doubt. But let us keep the champagne on ice. The Fall of Rome was not a single event; it was a thousand small failures. And Armenia, for all its heroism, may yet prove to be one of those failures. The wise man watches, waits, and prepares for the hangover.
Arthur Penhaligon
