Why Armenia can no longer afford Nikol Pashinyan’s leadership

By Vartan Oskanian, Armenia’s former foreign minister 

One of the few things that unites most Armenians today is the belief that Prime Minister Nikol Pashinyan must go—the sooner, the better. What divides public opinion is the path to his departure: a parliamentary vote of no confidence, mass protests, early elections, or waiting until the scheduled vote in 2026. But doubts abound that any of these mechanisms will work.

What is no longer in doubt, however, is this: Armenia cannot afford even one more day under Pashinyan’s leadership.

The country stands at one of the most precarious moments in its modern history. National security, foreign policy, democratic governance, economic stability, and social cohesion have all deteriorated during Pashinyan’s tenure. What began in 2018 as a moment of hope—fueled by promises of reform, transparency, and renewal—has devolved into a period marked by improvisation, incompetence, and strategic failure.

It is now painfully clear that Pashinyan has not only failed to meet the challenges before him but has also eroded the country’s hard-won gains and deepened its vulnerabilities. For the sake of Armenia’s future, he must step aside. The time to chart a new course is now.

At the core of Pashinyan’s failure is his catastrophic mismanagement of Armenia’s foreign and security policy. In a region where strategic depth is essential, he has governed without experience, vision, or discipline. His approach to Azerbaijan—defined by erratic rhetoric and unilateral concessions—has emboldened Baku and isolated Yerevan. Under his watch, Armenia lost Nagorno-Karabakh, over 120,000 Armenians were displaced, and a centuries-old community was dismantled. These were not unavoidable consequences of war—they were the direct result of poor leadership, unprepared for the geopolitical realities it faced.

Instead of stabilizing the situation post-conflict, Pashinyan worsened it. He entangled Armenia in strategic contradictions, delivered mixed messages to foreign partners, and failed to articulate a coherent policy for the future. His missteps have alienated all major players. Moscow views him as unreliable; Tehran treats him with suspicion; Ankara and Baku openly disdain him. Even the West—once hopeful he could be a symbol of democratic renewal—now regards him as little more than a pliant functionary, useful only insofar as he serves external interests. Armenia’s international isolation is not incidental; it is the predictable outcome of a leader who lacks credibility, strategic clarity, and diplomatic skill.

Domestically, the picture is equally grim. What began as a revolution of civic empowerment has mutated into personalized rule. With a firm grip on Parliament and key state institutions, Pashinyan has shielded himself from accountability and stifled opposition. The judiciary has been weakened, civil society sidelined, dissent criminalized, and the press increasingly constrained. As a result, public confidence in democracy is withering.

On the economic front, government claims of resilience rely on distorted statistics inflated by the side effects of Western sanctions on Russia. But for most Armenians, this growth is a mirage. Inflation, stagnant wages, mounting debt, and sluggish investment define the everyday reality. Corruption, once promised to be eradicated, has instead been institutionalized. Public funds are misused, loyalists rewarded with unearned bonuses, and financial opacity is now routine. The old habits have not been broken—only rebranded.

Meanwhile, Armenia’s social fabric is unraveling. Polarization, mistrust, and political exhaustion dominate public life. Rather than uniting the nation in adversity, the government has exacerbated division. And yet, despite cratering approval ratings, Pashinyan clings to power—not to serve the public good, but to preserve his own position.

Armenia can no longer afford this leadership. Pashinyan’s continued rule is not just a symptom of the crisis—it is the crisis. His presence narrows the country’s options for recovery, further complicates foreign relations, and blocks the path to democratic and national renewal. Replacing him will not solve all problems. But it is the necessary first step toward restoring Armenia’s dignity, credibility, and strategic direction.

As the country waits for change, it must do so with a clear understanding of the stakes. Armenia needs leadership that can unify its people, restore institutional integrity, and navigate the region’s turbulent waters with competence and foresight. Nikol Pashinyan is not that leader. He had his chance—and failed. For the good of the republic, it is well past time for him to step aside.