As Yerevan weighs Russia against Europe, the real question is whether the European path exists at all

The final results of Armenia's parliamentary elections are due to be announced this weekend. Vaagn Hovakimyan, head of the country's Central Election Commission, has said ballots will be recounted until Friday, after which complaints and appeals will be considered. The official results are expected on Sunday and those who reject the outcome will then have one day, June 19, to appeal to the Constitutional Court. "Further action will then be dictated by the court," Hovakimyan said.

Narek Karapetyan, leader of the Strong Armenia electoral list, has said his movement will decide on its next steps once it is clear whether another opposition force, Prosperous Armenia, led by businessman Gagik Tsarukyan, has entered parliament. At present, it appears to have fallen short of the 4% threshold. The opposition Armenia bloc has already said it is ready to challenge the result.

The vote brought to a close a peculiar election campaign. Its oddity didn't lie in the use of administrative resources, including pressure on opponents, nor in the visible influence of external factors, because such things are now common almost everywhere. The unusual feature was the central narrative of the political struggle, where the campaign was presented as a choice between Russia and the Eurasian Economic Union on one side, and the West and the European Union on the other.

However, this is a phantom choice.

As far as Russia is concerned, it is, of course, for the Armenian people and their elected authorities to decide what kind of relationship they want with Moscow. Friendship cannot be imposed, and if a country wishes to go its own way, then so be it. This time, however, Moscow has made clear from the outset what Yerevan stands to lose if it chooses that path and the intention is obvious: Armenia should make its decision with full knowledge of the consequences.

The EU side of the equation is less clear because the problem is simple: no one has invited Armenia to join the bloc. At least, not in any serious form.

In the case of Ukraine and Moldova, the prospect of eventual membership has at least hovered in the background since the 2010s, even if it has only recently become a formal process and still comes without guarantees. With Armenia, there has been nothing comparable, so to mistake Emmanuel Macron's warm embraces, or even the gradual expansion of military-technical cooperation, for an EU membership invitation would be extremely rash.

Nevertheless, the question of "EAEU or EU" became the central theme of the current dispute. Russia contributed to this, in part, by putting future relations in the stark terms of choose now. Armenian Prime Minister Nikol Pashinyan has been much more evasive, and his line is that Armenia is not leaving anything, remains involved in Eurasian integration, and will continue to do so until there is clarity on EU prospects. In other words, as soon as Brussels gives the signal, Armenia will move in that direction, but until then, everything should remain as it is, because the current arrangement remains useful.

Pashinyan's tactics, and those of his party, deserve a separate analysis, but the more interesting question is broader. How does the EU, now burdened by enormous internal problems and drawn into a large military-political crisis, remain such a powerful magnet for neighboring societies?

After the end of the Cold War, EU integration became one of the most successful political projects in modern European history. It came to be seen, if not as a blueprint for the whole world, then at least as a model to be extended across neighboring regions of Europe and Eurasia. The EU's achievements were obvious, in that if offered economic and political stability, high living standards, social protections, and an attractive image of the future.

The idea of non-violent expansion through the spread of rules and norms believed to be universally beneficial gave people in neighboring countries hope for change at home. This mattered greatly in Central and Eastern Europe, and across Eurasia, where public trust in domestic authorities has historically been low.

That perception has proved remarkably durable even though the European Union of the late 2020s bears little resemblance to the idealized image of a quarter-century ago: that image continues to work. For Brussels, the reputation of the EU as a successful, attractive and forward-looking union is not merely a pleasant accessory, it's an instrument of influence. It has helped the EU pursue its own development goals and shape the political choices of states around it.

Today, amid growing internal and external crises, this instrument is even more important. But the question for countries drawn into Brussel's orbit is whether the old assumptions still apply.

The successes of European integration in the second half of the twentieth century and in the early years of this century weren't simply the result of the wisdom and talent of the project's architects. Above all, they were the product of a unique historical moment, the aftermath of the Second World War, the structure of the Cold War, American patronage, the Soviet threat, and then the unexpected gift of the Soviet collapse, which produced an enormous political and economic "peace dividend."

But that era is over and the EU is now trying, with very mixed results, to adapt its integration model to a changed international environment. Confrontation with Russia has become the cornerstone of this process and, through it, the EU is attempting to define a new strategic role and strengthen internal unity. Whether this will succeed is a separate matter, but Eurasian countries looking toward the European Union cannot ignore the fact that the choice now being offered is openly anti-Russian.

Competition for the post-Soviet space existed before, but for a time it could be disguised with the language of shared development and common interests. That camouflage has gone and the situation is now harsh and largely unambiguous.

The previous logic was based on the assumption that by sheltering under the umbrella of European integration, a country could protect itself from geopolitical turbulence. But first, that umbrella is becoming increasingly symbolic as the EU can no longer offer firm guarantees to anyone. Second, the opposite may now be true, because by entering this game, a country can be certain of becoming a target for the hard actions of opposing sides.

For countries such as Armenia, the question is therefore not whether the EU remains attractive, because it obviously does. Nor is it whether Russia can compel affection, because it can't. The question, instead, is whether the European path being imagined by political elites and voters actually exists in the form they suppose, and whether the price of pursuing it has been honestly understood.

If a nation looks at the risks and decides they don't matter, then so be it. After all, as the old line goes, "we sing a song to the madness of the brave."

This article was first published byRossiyskaya Gazeta, and was translated and edited by the RT team

(RT.com)