The talking relic Loser Ter-Petrosyan in search of recognition

Armenia’s first president, Levon Ter-Petrosyan, has once again made a “heroic” attempt to remind people of his existence—a figure long uninteresting to most. And, of course, he did so in an utterly predictable and simplistic manner. His latest attack, as expected, was aimed at Prime Minister Nikol Pashinyan, with Armenia’s recently celebrated Independence Day serving as the formal “pretext.”

To say that Ter-Petrosyan’s speeches are an illustration of pathological jealousy toward Pashinyan would be an understatement. In his new spiteful tirade, the “grandpa,” as he is called in Armenia itself, accuses the current prime minister of every imaginable sin—from the “loss of Artsakh” to “hatred of Armenia’s very independence.”

First and foremost, it should be noted that it is impossible to lose what never belonged to you, what was stolen. This refers to the fact that Armenia temporarily occupied 20% of Azerbaijani territory but never managed to “annex” these lands or gain international recognition for the mythical project called “Artsakh.” These facts alone are enough to understand how hypocritical and limited Ter-Petrosyan’s thinking really is.

One doesn’t need exceptional intelligence to see that behind all this rhetoric lies a simple desire to rewrite history and present himself as the only “right” leader of Armenia, even if a former one. To expose the cynicism and falsity of his words, one only needs to recall his time in office. It was during his leadership that Armenian armed formations occupied Azerbaijani territories, thereby initiating a long descent into isolation and turning Armenia into a regional dead end.

The occupation of Azerbaijani territories was accompanied by mass ethnic cleansing, the destruction of towns and villages, and the expulsion of hundreds of thousands of civilians. UN Security Council resolutions demanded the unconditional withdrawal of Armenian armed forces, but Ter-Petrosyan had no intention of complying. All of this clearly demonstrates the aggressiveness and expansionism of his policies—a course later continued by Robert Kocharyan and Serzh Sargsyan.

Moreover, there is direct evidence of the first Armenian president’s involvement in these monstrous crimes. On July 23, 1993, at a meeting with members of the organization “Yerkrpa,” Ter-Petrosyan admitted: “If it hadn’t started in 1988, there would be no Karabakh today. We organised the work, formed units. We gained experience. Armenia and ‘Artsakh’ were completely cleansed of other nations.” This is an explicit admission of a policy based on racial and religious intolerance.

However, after losing power and influence, Ter-Petrosyan shamelessly began portraying himself as a “peacemaker,” even speaking of the need for “concessions” to Azerbaijan, and calling for compromise and dialogue. Yet all of this was utterly insincere, appearing as pathetic attempts by a fallen politician to somehow secure a place in history.

To be frank, he is the one who laid the foundation for the dead-end political model that suffocated Armenia for decades and ultimately led it to disaster. Today, the height of cynicism is that this very man accuses others of “the suffering of the people.”

None of Ter-Petrosyan’s attempts to return to high-level politics have succeeded: his support in Armenian society is virtually nonexistent, his party and movements have garnered only pitiful percentages in elections, and the figure of the first president has long been the subject of ridicule in Armenia. Even within the opposition—diverse, often chaotic, and sometimes downright farcical—Ter-Petrosyan has never secured a stable leadership role. His current statements resemble nothing more than the irritated muttering of a resentful old man.

As for Pashinyan, Ter-Petrosyan hates him fiercely—for remaining in power and maintaining real influence over domestic politics despite all mistakes, the devastating consequences of the 44-day war, and subsequent events. He hates that the current prime minister has managed to reform the state system to fit a new reality, while Ter-Petrosyan remains stuck in the past. These facts trigger the ex-president’s acute bitterness, spilling out in endless accusatory tirades.

Today, as Armenia gradually moves toward a new reality and society slowly comes to recognise the necessity of peace, Levon Ter-Petrosyan appears as an alien element. His place is in the dustbin of history, where he will remain—a man who repeatedly “waved his ears” but never managed to overcome the petty loser within him, a man who, by sheer chance, once found himself at the helm of the state.