Today marks the final day of Armenia’s election campaign. Tomorrow is the day of silence. And the day after tomorrow, the country will go to the polls not simply to elect a new parliament, but to decide what kind of state it wants to wake up in after Monday.
Over the past weeks, we have seen almost everything that has long been wrong with Armenian politics. We saw a government speaking about peace, stability and the future, while increasingly doing so through pressure, anger and division. Nikol Pashinyan and Civil Contract campaigned as the force claiming it alone can protect the country from war and chaos. Yet many citizens saw something else as well: the advantage of state resources, harsh rhetoric, and the division of society into “ours” and “theirs” — into supporters of the government and, almost, enemies of the state.
That is a dangerous logic. A citizen who disagrees with the prime minister does not become an enemy of Armenia. People have the right to oppose power. And if the state begins to treat disagreement as a threat, then the problem is no longer only about elections. It is about the quality of government itself.
On the other side, we once again saw Robert Kocharyan — confident, hard-edged, speaking as a man who believes he is the strongest and most capable. But Armenian society knows this political style too well. Words about strength do not automatically mean the ability to unite a country. Loud confidence does not equal public trust. The main question for Kocharyan remains unchanged: can he offer Armenia a future, rather than simply a return to the past?
A separate line in this campaign is Samvel Karapetyan. A man under house arrest, yet running with the ambition to become prime minister, has become the symbol of a new political intrigue. For some, he represents an alternative to the current government and a promise of strong management. For others, he represents a project tied to Russian influence and big capital. But one fact is clear: his emergence has changed the balance, because part of society is no longer looking only for the old opposition, but for a new center of force against Pashinyan.
And still, the main actor in this election is not Pashinyan, not Kocharyan and not Karapetyan. The main actor is the Armenian citizen — tired, disappointed, sometimes angry, but still responsible for making a choice.
This election cannot be treated as an ordinary political procedure. It comes after war, the loss of Artsakh, a crisis of trust, conflicts with the Church, arrests, accusations, external pressure and internal exhaustion. That is why the vote the day after tomorrow is not just a ballot. It is a matter of conscience.
Who wins will become clear on Monday. Perhaps the government will retain its majority. Perhaps parliament will become more fragmented and difficult. Perhaps the protest vote will prove stronger than the ruling team expects. But the most important thing now is that Armenia passes through this moment without unrest, without violence, without revenge and without a new internal wound.
People must go and vote. Not out of fear. Not for promises. Not for shouting. Not for whoever speaks most loudly about saving the nation. But according to conscience.
Because these elections will truly decide Armenia’s future. And if society once again allows fear, hatred or indifference to decide on its behalf, it will be too late afterward to ask why the country went the wrong way again.
By Lida Nalbandyan, Founder and CEO of Octopus Media Group