This article was originally published in Danish on June 27, 2026.
By Povl H. Riis-Knudsen
Armenia is a small, very beautiful country in the southern Caucasus, somewhat smaller than Denmark and with a population of about 3 million. The population is Apostolic Christian and speaks a complex Indo-European language with its own alphabet dating back to the 400s. The country is very mountainous, with a small semi-desert region in the northwestern part. It doesn’t exactly radiate wealth, and once you leave the capital, Yerevan, there are places so neglected that you feel as if you’re in the Third World. The national opera is Armen Tigranian’s “Anoush”, with a libretto by the well-known Armenian author Hovhannes Tumanjan, who emphasizes the sanctity of the mountains throughout his work. Desecrating the mountains brings misfortune. Perhaps that is precisely the reason for Armenia’s unfortunate situation today. They’re blowing up mountains to use them as slag….
For various reasons, I know Armenia extremely well. In the current situation, where one cannot fly directly to Russia, Armenia is an excellent steppingstone; the food is superb, and so is the wine—not to mention the famous Armenian cognac, which tastes so good that you can hear the angels singing, accompanied by a choir of harps and trumpets. When it comes to food—but also in many other areas—I much prefer Armenia to Georgia, though that is, of course, a matter of taste. Azerbaijan, on the other hand, I find boring—only the capital, Baku, is a lovely city, my absolute favorite in the Caucasus.
One would think that the Armenians—this small and, in and of itself, insignificant people who have been through so much—might be allowed to sleep a peaceful Sleeping Beauty’s slumber, undisturbed by the world’s crises. However, this is far from the case. Armenia has been designated by the West to become the battleground for the next post-Soviet war—or perhaps simply for a civil war intended to destroy the forces that wish to preserve historical ties with Russia, in order to instead place the Americans in a key position right on the Iranian border.
Armenia is a rather isolated country. Its neighbor to the west is Turkey, which carried out a genocide against the Armenian population in Western Armenia in 1915. It is estimated that 1.5 million were slaughtered in the most brutal manner, and a significant number more were scattered across most of the world, where they are valued and industrious citizens everywhere. The Genocide Museum in Yerevan speaks for itself. Turkey flatly denies any guilt, and because the Armenians have not forgotten, the border between Turkey and Armenia remains closed—and the same applies to the border with Azerbaijan, which is essentially just an extension of Turkey. Relations with Azerbaijan are plagued by another problem: the Armenian exclave of Nagorno-Karabakh within Azerbaijan—another of the many unresolved issues resulting from the dissolution of the Soviet Union. After much wrangling over access to the exclave, the Armenians succeeded in seizing the territories surrounding Nagorno-Karabakh, which historically were just as Armenian as the exclave itself, but Stalin drew the borders without any regard for nationality or history. The residents formed a de facto independent state, Artsakh, which, however, was recognized only by Transnistria, South Ossetia, and Abkhazia—all of which are themselves pariah states without international recognition. Not even Armenia recognized Artsakh. In 2020, Azerbaijan recaptured the area and expelled the Armenian population—over 100,000 people. Armenian President Nikol Pashinyan openly despises the people of Artsakh and made only a half-hearted effort to prevent the Azerbaijani annexation of the disputed area. He blamed Russia for not helping, but Putin had to remind him that Armenia itself had never recognized Artsakh—and that Pashinyan himself had signed the agreement ceding the territory. Of course, the timing was not chosen at random either. Putin was already busy in Donbas at that time. The loss of Artsakh changed the mood in Armenia overnight. The previous optimism following the Armenian de facto conquest of Artsakh gave way to a well-founded fear for Armenia’s very existence, and Pashinyan is not a popular figure among the general population today. He rules the country like a dictator, and in connection with the recently concluded “election,” he has been accused of widespread electoral fraud—both before, during, and after the actual voting. Among other things, he also prevented the significant Armenian diaspora in Russia from casting their votes. Quite simply, all the men were conscripted for a month of military service when they showed up at the border or at the airport. Soldiers were ordered to vote for the prime minister’s party after the polling stations had closed; ballots were missing; nonexistent people cast their votes; and so on. Leading opposition politicians are in prison. Does this pattern look familiar? Well, it was a bit like in Moldova, and it certainly wasn’t something Pashinyan had come up with on his own. Armenia was teeming with NGOs, funded by the U.S. and the Jew George Soros. They’ve laid the groundwork with the usual promises of membership of NATO and the EU, etc. Armenia, however, is entirely dependent on both exports to and imports from Russia. Pashinyan would like to have his cake and eat it, too, but Putin has made it clear to him that he must choose. Either the post-Soviet cooperation organization, the CIS, and the Eurasian Economic Union, or the West. This is all cheap oil from Russia and exports of Armenia’s agricultural products. Armenia is dependent on both, and the country’s geographical isolation makes trade with the West somewhat difficult.
On June 9, 2024, a massive anti-government demonstration gathered in Republic Square in the center of Yerevan—surrounded by a considerable number of riot police—and the voices were very loud. Now, of course, you’re at a disadvantage if you don’t speak the language, but in Armenia most people still speak Russian, so we got a summary. “Within 14 days, we are going to have a revolution!” a man declared. I was skeptical. At that point, every other storefront on the main street was still occupied by a restaurant, and the restaurants were packed with people. That doesn’t make for a good foundation for a revolution. As Lenin said: “In any society, revolution is three meals away!” The speaker was part of the church leadership, and he was quickly thrown into jail. Three weeks later—as expected—there still hadn’t been a revolution. The last time I was in Yerevan, in June 2025, I felt that the revolution was a lot closer. There were significantly fewer restaurants, and they were all pretty empty. The mood was gloomy. As mentioned above, repression has also increased. People in Yerevan are at a loss. I discussed the matter with the bookseller. I assured him that Armenia has only one friend—and that is Russia. Everyone else is only out to destroy or, at the very least, exploit the country. I probably couldn’t quite convince him. For the first and only time, I encountered a taxi driver who refused to speak Russian. “We’re not Russians!” he said in English. I couldn’t help but ask him if they were Americans, then. It turned into a silent taxi ride to the Russian embassy, where the line of Armenians waiting for a Russian passport grows month by month.
Trump claims he has brought about peace between Armenia and Azerbaijan—and therefore deserves the Nobel Peace Prize —but his plan to establish a corridor through Armenia between Azerbaijan proper and the large Azerbaijani exclave of Nakhchivan, running along the border with Iran—and, not least, guarded by American troops—is a recipe for disaster. Russia already has a military base in Armenia… Russia is unlikely to tolerate the “Trump Corridor”—but without Russian troops, Armenia will be at the mercy of the Turks, who are just waiting to finish the job they started in 1915. Poor Armenia.