InternationalThe three presidents of modern-day Armenia
Published: Saturday March 01, 2008 in Living in Armenia
Robert Kocharian, Serge Sargsian, Levon Ter-Petrossian. Photolure
Armenia is probably the only country in the world who can boast that it has three presidents. Three. That's right. There's the incumbent, Robert Kocharian, there's President-elect Serge Sargsian, and then there's the self-proclaimed president of Freedom Square, Levon Ter-Petrossian.
For all intents and purposes, at least according to the Central Electoral Commission of Armenia, Serge Sargsian is the president-elect of this tiny, landlocked country that has sold off most of its energy, communication networks, and infrastructure to Russia. Then there's also the small issue of the unresolved status of Nagorno-Karabakh, the imposed blockade by Turkey and Azerbaijan and the continuing war mongering by Ilham Aliev and his cronies. Since independence a million people have left the country. They left behind their homes, their families, their lives. A young, energetic and highly qualified generation is struggling to find its mission in this fledgling democracy.
Then there's the reality that's unfolding in Opera Square. Tens of thousands of disgruntled citizens, tired of the ruling classes, tired of living in a dual reality, have decided to support the former president of Armenia, Levon Ter-Petrossian. The tents have increased, the names of those who are defecting and going over to Mr. Ter-Petrossian's camp is also increasing, though the newer names are not prominent ones. Every day they march through the streets of Yerevan. Flags and fists in the air. Young and old.
This is the second presidential election I have witnessed in Armenia, not to mention two sets of parliamentary elections, a referendum on constitutional amendments and a couple of local elections. In the 2003 presidential election, incumbent Robert Kocharian was unable to cross the 50 percent threshold in the first round, thereby forcing a second round. I remember very clearly the impending sense of doom some of us were experiencing at the thought of his rival, Stepan Demirchian becoming president, especially after the now infamous debate he had with Robert Kocharian. I was in self-imposed exile, unwilling to face the possibility of a weak, inexperienced president. I think it was the only time I floundered about our decision to move to Armenia. I remember thinking that I would rather have stayed in Canada and kept the idea of an independent Armenia on a pedestal, idolizing it rather than living in this mess. Mess is not the word I was using at the time. In retrospect I was over reacting. Today's impasse is one which is far more dangerous to the stability and future of this country.
The international observer mission gave what can be interpreted as a positive report on the conduct of the election; the CIS observer mission called them free and fair. The OSCE/ODIHR mission said their responsiblity was not on the outcome of the elections, but the process. Many of us present at the press conference of the international observer mission were stunned into silence, knowing the depth of violations that had occurred. While I appreciate that the process tried to adhere to the principles of a democratic election, the reality was something else. While I also appreciate that Armenian statehood is in its infancy and am willing to accept much more is unfair, I would have at least liked to have seen a veiled attempt at something that had more integrity.
The one glaring shortcoming of this election campaign was media coverage. It was very clear that the authorities through pressure and manipulation were able to censor the airwaves. An independent media can be as important as an independent judiciary, especially in a newly formed democracy. In their attempt to discredit Levon Ter-Petrossian, the authorities embarked on a smear campaign against the former president. The little coverage they did give managed to capture less-than-appealing images of the candidate and attempted to portray his supporters as a bumbling, misguided collectivity. In fairness, they did want to interview him, and he constantly refused everyone, including our own paper. The media coverage of the post-election period was worse than the campaign itself. While Levon Ter-Petrossian managed to create a movement, bringing together tens of thousands of supporters, erecting a tent city, and a 24-hour sit in, the media consistently refused to cover it. They mentioned it briefly in passing, but most of us who were desperate to find out what was happening had to physically go to his rallies or hear it through the BBC or Euronews.
Last Saturday morning at home I was switching between channels trying to find out what had happened the night before. We were on a constant state of alert, fearing that the authorities would try to disperse the crowds under the pretext of public order, thus causing clashes. Internet connection from my house is shoddy; just trying to get connected is a test of nerves - yes, I still have dial-up and our phone lines are not digitized - therefore I couldn't read online wire services. I called my girlfriend and we both decided to go to the rally ourselves. It was a sunny day, with the feeling of spring in the air. Just as we got to Liberty Square, Nikol Pashinian, Ter-Petrossian's supporter and organizer of the rallies, was speaking. My friend and I walked arm in arm through the crowd, looked at the tents that had been used as sleeping quarters for those who had stayed overnight. Everyone was quietly and attentively listening to what Pashinian was saying while eating sunflower seeds or smoking. We tried to get close to the podium but it was packed. After walking around the Opera and once again through the crowd we decided to go and sit at a cafe on the grounds of the Opera building. While drinking our coffee, we were watching people coming and going. Some carried flags, with their fists in the air; others it seemed were out for a stroll; and a lot of people like ourselves were there out of curiosity to try and understand what was going on. We were in a media blackout after all.
