The 34 years of Armenia’s independence have been riddled with multiple economic hardships, political crises and various social issues that have remained unresolved regardless of the country’s government, form of governance and the level of democratic progress it has made.
There have been several successful and unsuccessful attempts to form grassroots movements that would, in theory, fight for and eventually achieve progress in various causes. These movement-building initiatives, however, have largely been disconnected from one another, unable to form coalitions strong enough to counter the existing social, economic and political realities of the post-Soviet republic.
This disconnection has mainly been driven by three factors: the Nagorno-Karabakh conflict, the institutionalization of social movements, and the divide between liberal and left-wing activism.
While these factors are in many ways interconnected, I believe they should be explored separately, and the best starting point would be Nagorno-Karabakh.
While the geopolitical, social and cultural aspects of this conflict tend to be discussed and analyzed more often, it is important to recognize its economic impact and implications for Armenia, since it also opens a window into the many problematic social dynamics that continue to exist in the country.
The mass privatization that came with Armenia’s newly gained independence in 1991 brought new and unprecedented levels of income inequality to the country.
One example of this is the border town of Meghri, which was heavily reliant on the production of wine, textiles and other goods in its various factories, as well as on the transportation of those goods during the Soviet era via the railway that ran through Azerbaijan. After the union collapsed and the war broke out, most of these factories closed down, the railway was shut off and sold for parts and the railway station was abandoned. This contributed to the further centralization of Armenia’s economy in Yerevan and negatively impacted the economy of Meghri, that of the entire Syunik region and that of the country as a whole.
The first Karabakh war shaped the country’s economy, ideology and social dynamics. The pre-2020 status quo was affirmed as the only acceptable position one could have if one had any political, social or even activist ambitions. Those who tried to scrutinize this reality were almost always met with ridicule, harassment and isolation. This effectively rendered it impossible to speak out against the pre-2020 “no-war, no-peace” limbo while advocating for other causes.
The connections that the conflict had to Armenia’s social, economic and political struggles were rarely addressed. Ignoring them and limiting activism to each specific cause was the easier and safer choice, especially if the advocacy was led by non-governmental organizations, which brings us to the second factor.
The mistrust between grassroots activists and NGOs has a long history in Armenia and beyond. One of the main critiques of nonprofits is that they pacify the anger of grassroots movements, institutionalize them and adapt them to narratives and actions acceptable to the state.
An example of this would be fighting for queer rights while ignoring the neoliberal and militarist structures that harm queer people economically, which, in turn, indicates a lack of cross-movement and cross-community solidarity.
There are multiple reasons behind the NGO-ization of social movements: support from local and international political institutions and donors, various career opportunities, and social and economic safety. In return, these NGOs adjust and modify the language of social movements, pacify and/or isolate the more radical elements of those movements and, whenever necessary, collaborate with state institutions. This tendency has been particularly strong since the 2018 regime change.
In her article, “Interweaving Story and Theory: Confronting Anti-Feminism and Anti-Genderism in the NGOized Women’s Movement in Armenia,” independent scholar Sona Baldrian argues:
“Before 2018, less professionalized NGOs allowed multiple crossings of people, practices, and ideas. After 2018, with the deepening cooperation between foreign donor organizations and the Armenian state, local NGOs were forced to cooperate with the state, and these spatial and temporal diversities became rare.”
In the same article, Baldrian also recounts a story of a refugee from Karabakh who fled to Armenia with his family after the 2020 war and was living in a shelter. He asked her to help him find a new winter coat, but her colleague told him that they “only work with women.” Later it was explained to Baldrian that “donor budget lines dictated [their] aid distribution.”
While this may feel like a singular case, I believe it is a very telling example of how activism operates in institutionalized NGOs. If the institution that finances you has control over who you can and cannot support, it becomes challenging to find room for mutual support on a larger scale. This is precisely how social struggles get isolated from one another and deprived of their larger context, which hinders any chance of systemic change.
It is also important to note that NGOs are, for the most part, heavily reliant on funding by international organizations and donors, which exist in the context of “free market capitalism.” This system naturally creates competition between organizations that have identical or similar goals and leaves little room for cooperation. This is where the third factor comes in: liberalism and left-wing activism.
While Armenia’s economy has certainly been the subject of many analyses in the past 34 years, these discussions have rarely revolved around the conflict itself and the question of its economic implications. The discourse around Karabakh rarely touched upon why these wars were “necessary” in the context of post-Soviet geopolitics, why they couldn’t be avoided, who benefited from them economically and, most importantly, who suffered as a result of them.
This systemic avoidance of the economic realities and class analysis of the conflict showcased the liberalism of many (but not all) peacebuilding efforts before 2020. On the other hand, left-wing activists, who stressed the importance of recognizing the class elements of the conflict, existed in the margins.
This was not only the case for the Karabakh conflict, but for almost every issue in Armenia. The aforementioned pacification and institutionalization have created social movements that would more often focus on isolated identity struggles rather than analyze the material conditions that provide the context for those struggles. They have also contributed to the disconnection of those movements from one another.
Since the 1990s, the two main factors that united the majority of Armenia’s population have been the war and the income inequality that came with it.
While prioritizing the economy above all else would not magically resolve all the issues that exist in Armenia, it could (and should) be argued that taking social issues out of their economic contexts has led to mistrust, disconnection and inefficiency.
What Should Be Done Differently
The peace agreement initialed on August 8, 2025 is quite limited in its capacity to address the various issues in Armenia and Azerbaijan. While it establishes the framework of normalization between the two countries, the problems of the economic, social and cultural impact of the conflict remain very much open and unresolved.
Anti-war and social justice activists in Armenia need to understand that it is impossible to achieve justice for a certain cause in a vacuum while ignoring the issues that impact others.
We need to question the nationalist narratives that have hindered our capacity to fight against our oppression, while harming other people and groups around us.
We need to create independent, critical and self-sufficient movements that will collaborate with regional and global critical movements, thus relying less on institutional actors and more on mutual support. Inequality and injustice know no state boundaries: the issues of dispossession through privatization, violent militarism, homotransphobia and systemic misogyny are connected to one another. Moreover, these issues are not specific to Armenia. They are part of various systems of oppression, which exist globally and cannot be resolved within the confines of a single country, a single city or a single movement.