Armenia is faced with one of the most critical junctions in its post-independence history. The shock of losing Artsakh has not disappeared. Tens of thousands of displaced families are still looking for stability. The country’s borders feel more vulnerable than ever. Confidence in institutions slides, democratic standards are thinking and people are tired – even. If there was a time for serious and stable leadership, it’s now.
Instead, his Prime Minister swears on bishops on Facebook.
Prime Minister Nikol Pashinyan published a job Directed on a member of the main clergy, by declaring, without provocation or shame: “SrbazanContinue hitting your uncle’s wife. What is your problem with me?
The commentary, published early in the morning, was not made in a private conversation, not taken in hot micro, not distorted by the media. He was typed and published publicly by the Head of Government of Armenia on his official social media page.
It was, at any other level, shameful.
The position was quickly followed by others. He suggested That many members of the Armenian clergy had violated their vows of celibacy and had to be stripped of their religious office. His wife, Anna Hakobyan, joined, accusing The anonymous priests of being the “main pedophiles of the country” and the “maniac perverts”.
In a separate Facebook jobHakobyan targeted the journalist and editor Boris Murazi – a member of the Yezidian minority of Armenia – accusing him, without proof, of providing “sexual services” to former president Serzh Sargsyan and certain bishops. She said she had heard this “for years” and hypothesized that “there could be videos in the drawers of the agencies concerned”. The post was barely veiled in the order of homophobia and had not only to discredit Murazi, but to make him ashamed. They were not disabled comments or vague frustrations, but calculated defamatory attacks aimed to silence a critical voice. And they came from someone who supposedly heads a campaign to “increase the quality of public speech” in Armenia.
This campaign, entitled “Learning is fashionable”, was supposed to promote education, literacy and civility in public life. And yet, we are in the midst of the collapse of public speech, with its founder and champion engaged in personal attacks that armed misogyny, homophobia and conspiracy theories to silence criticism.
It would be disturbing in any context. But it is even more absurd since Hakobyan and Pashinyan are journalists. They know better. They worked in the editorial rooms. They have published publications. They know the power of language, and they know exactly what they do – which does not only a account of account, but a choice.
These are not the words of anonymous trolls in the comments section. These are the public statements of the main political figures of Armenia, delivered through official platforms, aimed at silencing criticism and undergoing institutions.
And frankly, it is a failure of leadership.
We can have criticism from the Armenian apostolic church. This is not the problem. No institution is above the exam. But there is a difference between examination and slander, between the investigation and the insult – a statesman includes this difference. A head of government should know that the public service is delivered with public responsibility, especially in the way we speak.
Blaspheths can feel cathartic in private, but it has no place in the official discourse – certainly not in social media sanctioned by the state. When the head of a country is reduced to the vulgarities of the school court, he degrades not only himself but the whole office he represents.
Armenia is not the first country to face this problem. US President Donald Trump regularly uses inflammatory and vulgar language to discredit adversaries, dominate big titles and distract deeper policy failures. And the long -term effects have been damaging. The public behavior bar was clearly lowered. The political dialogue was poisoned and the substance replaced was the spectacle.
The recent driving of Pashinyan follows a similar logic. Instead of clearly explaining the details of the so-called peace process with Azerbaijan, he attacks the Church. Instead of treating the artsak status displaced by Armenians or asking for the release of Armenian hostages in Baku, he publishes gossip on the clergy. Instead of reassuring citizens during a period of deep uncertainty, he transformed public debate into a profane match of cries.
Some may find this type of refreshing rhetoric. Others can see it as “relatable” or “authentic”. But authenticity without responsibility is dangerous. Being a “people of the people” does not mean adopting the worst habits of the street. This does not mean abandoning the expected basic decorum of someone responsible for representing the Armenian nation.
To swear to Bishops is the behavior of someone who has lacked ideas and chose to attack it. This is what politicians do when they can no longer govern by the results, only by noise.
And the latter explosion does not occur in isolation. He follows a long and growing conflict between Pashinyan and the Church. In the past year, Archbishop Bagrat Gallstanyan has emerged As one of the most vocal criticism of government, leading large -scale demonstrations after the territorial concessions in Pashinyan in Azerbaijan. Karekin II Catholicos also spoke, call for the resignation of the Prime Minister.
Instead of engaging directly with these criticisms, Pashinyan and his circle alluded to reprisals, suggesting the possibility of taxing the Church or even granting a role to the government in the selection of the next Catholics.
This should worry whoever cares about the border between the church and the state. The Church is not above criticism. But using government machinery to continue religious institutions for political opposition is something else. It is not a reform. It is an abuse of power.
In the end, it is not the church. It is not even a vulgar message. This is the kind of policy in which Armenia slips.
When the country faces existential threats, we cannot afford a government that responds to criticism with blasphemies and provocation. We cannot afford a Prime Minister whose idea of leadership is to choose online fights and humiliate his criticisms in public. We need calm. We need competence. We need clarity.
We need leaders who understand that the words count.
Pashinyan has once promised to build a new political culture in Armenia – that rooted in transparency, responsibility and decency. This promise now feels distant. In its place is something much more cynical: a government that strikes, pays more attention to its media publications than its foreign policy and confuses personal vendettas with national priorities.
At a time when the Armenian state should strengthen its foundations, it is rather taken in a spiral of small theaters. It is not an image crisis; It is a leadership crisis.
And Armenia deserves better.