Nikol Pashinyan continues to display his deep-seated pathological complexes in various ways. More precisely, these are inner fears that appear to be intensifying as the June 7 parliamentary elections approach. In recent days, the head of the executive, strange as it may sound to many, has shown an aversion to phrases built around the word “strong”: “strong Armenia,” “strong army,” “strong peace,” “strong diplomacy,” and so on. Even after the March 19 press briefing, which was full of controversial statements, Pashinyan did not refrain from addressing the word “strong” in a video posted on his Telegram channel.
He partly reveals his unusual perception of, and even irritation with, the word “strong” in that video. If he could, he might devalue it, crush it, and discard it entirely. Since he cannot, and fortunately so, he instead chooses to argue against it. “When you say you’re strong, what exactly are you strong in, man? Go live, do 30 pull-ups, and I’ll accept that you’re strong.” In other words, he suggests demonstrating physical strength through pull-ups. He also proposes a way to prove intellectual strength: “Or another option—go live and, without outside help, tell me what the capital of Spain is, and I’ll accept that you are ‘intellectually strong.’”
In this video, he presents such “tests” for his opponents. He then adds another element to the “intellectual strength” test: spelling a single word, the verb “to despise.” Ironically, in one of his recent Facebook posts, Pashinyan himself made two mistakes in that very word, writing “արհամարհել” (“to despise”) as “առհամարել.” Of course, anyone can make mistakes, but what is puzzling is the tone of the video he shared on his Telegram channel. There is a mix of irony, humor, and challenge, as if he is attempting to define what makes a leader strong, and what constitutes his own strength.
We will attempt to help answer that question to the best of our modest ability. The strength of a capable and charismatic leader lies in vision, a statesman’s mindset, honesty, integrity, impeccable conduct, and devotion to both country and people, in short, in qualities that the current occupant of Armenia’s prime minister’s office appears to lack entirely. A strong leader would not provoke war needlessly, bring about significant human and material losses, or lead the country into tragedy and destruction. Nor would such a leader have hundreds of thousands of his compatriots dispossessed, weaken the state, or surrender it piece by piece to a long-standing adversary.
A strong leader would not a) bring false accusations against political opponents or imprison them unlawfully; b) indulge in lavish celebrations and reckless pleasures after a dramatic increase in wartime casualties, many of whom are buried in the Yerablur Military Pantheon; c) promote artificial religious rituals, namely divine liturgy, pressure the 1,700-year-old Armenian Apostolic Church, or interfere in its affairs; d) weaken the armed forces, dismantle the army under external pressure, dismiss experienced officers, or punish them unjustly; e) cast doubt on the Armenian Genocide or deny the suffering and memory of one and a half million Armenian victims. This list could go on endlessly.
A weak leader, by contrast, a) surrounds himself with heavy security, driven by constant fear, unwilling to take even a few steps without protection; b) is prone to betrayal, even treason, readily abandoning allies, military units, or the nation itself; c) is obsessed with power and willing to endure any humiliation to retain it indefinitely; d) lacks the trust of both the public and his own circle—his words carry little weight, and his promises inspire no confidence; e) is an ineffective negotiator, unable to defend national interests or assert himself on the international stage.
A defeated mindset is inseparable from weak leadership. Indeed, one might argue that there is no such thing as a weak leader—because if a person is weak, then he is not truly a leader. At least, that is how it ought to be.
“Hayatsk Yerevanits” Journal