Regardless of our attitude toward Armenia’s leaders, their proposed “Fourth Republic” project can be seen as an attempt to deviate from the historical path the country embarked on after the collapse of the USSR. Independence prompted Armenia to question the meaning of its own existence. However, the Karabakh discourse quickly dominated both the domestic life of society and relations with its neighbours: the topic of Nagorno-Karabakh became the cornerstone of Armenia's national identity as an independent subject in international politics.
It can be assumed that this predetermined a series of shocks: internal destabilisation was fuelled by value-oriented narratives, while external challenges compounded the deepening identity crisis, triggering a total transformation and even the collapse of the entire coordinate system within which the republic had previously existed. The intertwining of these two variables undoubtedly set the framework for the ongoing transition, the further trajectory of which will determine the stability and viability of Armenian statehood.
The Civil Contract party's victory in the recent parliamentary elections in June 2026 was entirely expected, yet the results have left a bitter aftertaste. Despite Nikol Pashinyan remaining the least desirable candidate for prime minister, he managed to successfully promote both his own image and that of his party. Against the backdrop of a fragmented opposition and the systematic weakening of pro-Russian candidates, Pashinyan remained virtually the only politician whose governance model voters had already experienced. While far from ideal, voting for other candidates felt more like a step into the unknown.
What happened in 2018 was no accident. It was the result of Armenia's lengthy process of internal development and the evolution of its foreign relations system since the collapse of the USSR. For three decades, the country's post-Soviet history was built around people from Nagorno-Karabakh, who formed the core of the ruling elite. The theme of “miatsum” (the unity of Armenia and Nagorno-Karabakh) remained the main instrument of its legitimisation and the core of Armenian identity. The events of early 2018 were a direct response to the exhaustion of this model. Society was tired of injustice, corruption, the monopolisation of the economy and politics. However, having come to power on the wave of this demand, Pashinyan had not yet had the opportunity to dismantle the Karabakh agenda itself; otherwise, he would have faced an opposition that could have accused him of betraying national interests.
Had it not been for the 2020 war, the shift away from the Karabakh narrative would likely have occurred more slowly and in a different form. External challenges may not have been a catalyst for change, but they clearly accelerated its implementation. The September 2023 escalation and the final loss of control over Karabakh marked a turning point: Yerevan had no other option but to yield to Baku and build a new status quo on the victorious side's terms. Pashinyan acknowledged defeat in the face of a more powerful neighbour, understanding that the cost of another such mistake for Armenia would be too high.
It is within this logic that constitutional reform forms the core of the Fourth Republic project. It is intended to formalise the rejection of the 1990 Declaration of Independence, which contains a reference to the December 1, 1989, Resolution of the Supreme Soviet of the Armenian SSR and the National Council of Nagorno-Karabakh “On the Reunification of the Armenian SSR and Nagorno-Karabakh.” This step was dictated by a direct demand from Azerbaijan, which views this constitutional provision as grounds for potential revanchism and territorial claims by Armenia. This position has also found understanding in Turkey, further complicating Yerevan's progress toward normalising relations with Ankara. As a result, the Armenian side finds itself in a deliberately asymmetrical negotiating position, consistently making concessions without any guarantee of peace.
This also includes the promotion of the "Crossroads of the World" initiative as the economic component of the Fourth Republic project. Its concept is clear, and the practical interests of the Armenian side are understandable. However, the desire to build good-neighbourly relations and position the country as a transit hub seems, at the very least, premature in the absence of a signed peace treaty, especially since the discussion regarding the Zangezur Corridor (the "Trump route") is far from over. Furthermore, Yerevan is aware of the positions of Iran and Russia, which cannot be thrilled with the prospect of a consolidated American presence in the South Caucasus. Given the combined effect of these factors, it is not yet reasonable to expect Armenia to reap economic dividends by becoming a magnet for foreign investment.
It seems that Nikol Pashinyan's Fourth Republic project cannot be reduced to the logic of purely internal development or to a mechanical response to external factors. Its origins undoubtedly lie in the exhaustion of the previous model of statehood, but the project acquired its current shape under unprecedented external pressure (military, political, and economic). Armenia has found itself embroiled in a process of profound transformation that is outpacing the formation of a coherent social consensus, which will continue to fuel strong political polarisation. Armenia's viability will depend on whether Armenian society and its leadership succeed in reconciling the state's survival under current conditions with the need to find a new identity.