In the chaotic arena of Armenian politics, where words often clash like swords and reputations hang by a thread, a new battlefront has just opened up. It’s not a fight on the streets, but one in the courthouses, sparked by allegations, denials, and a healthy dose of political mudslinging. At the heart of this storm is the “Strong Armenia” party, specifically its leader, Samvel Karapetyan, and board member Narek Karapetyan. They’re crying foul, accusing members of the ruling Civil Contract (CC) party of spreading what they term “lies, falsifications, and disinformation.” The Strong Armenia’s spokesperson, Marianna Ghahramanyan, didn’t mince words, announcing a legal offensive that promises to send ripples through the political landscape. This isn’t just about clearing names; it’s about making a statement, turning the tables, and, surprisingly, even giving back to the community in a rather unexpected way.
Imagine being under constant scrutiny, every move you make, every word you utter, dissected and often distorted for political gain. That’s the picture Marianna Ghahramanyan paints for her colleagues, Samvel and Narek Karapetyan. She describes a daily barrage of “lies, falsifications, and disinformation” aimed squarely at them by what she disdainfully calls “the small group” within the Civil Contract party. Her Facebook announcement wasn’t just a threat; it was a declaration of war, a line in the sand. “Yesterday, you expressed yourself, spread your nonsense as much as possible,” she wrote, her words dripping with defiance. “Now let’s reveal another election proposal.” This isn’t just a knee-jerk reaction; it’s a strategically planned counter-attack, timed to coincide with a broader political narrative. It’s a classic political maneuver: when attacked, don’t just defend – counter-attack with an unexpected move that catches your opponent off-guard and redirects the narrative.
But this legal battle isn’t just about vindication; it’s about a unique form of restitution. Ghahramanyan laid out a fascinating twist to their legal strategy: any money collected from the CC members found guilty of spreading falsehoods won’t be pocketed by Strong Armenia. Instead, it will be channeled towards a cause that many would deem noble – the renovation of rooms at the mental health center in Sevan. This detail is crucial; it attempts to elevate the entire endeavor beyond mere political squabbling into something with a greater social purpose. “In a strong Armenia,” she proclaimed, painting a vivid picture of a more just society, “those with mental disorders, those who shove women will have quality treatment and free medicines during the day instead of a position.” This statement, while perhaps a slight dig at the unnamed “those who shove women,” cleverly links their legal fight to a broader vision of social responsibility and compassionate governance. It’s a powerful rhetorical move, transforming a personal fight into a public good.
The immediate catalyst for this legal storm appears to be a specific accusation leveled by National Assembly speaker Alen Simonyan. On a Tuesday, Simonyan took to social media, publicizing a document and asking a pointed question: “Is Narek Karapetyan a citizen of the RF [i.e., the Russian Federation]?” The accompanying document, according to the report, contained data on a legal entity where “RF citizen” was conspicuously written next to Narek Karapetyan’s name. This was a direct hit, a public challenge to Karapetyan’s loyalty and eligibility. In the highly nationalistic political climate of Armenia, allegations of dual citizenship, especially with Russia, can be politically devastating. It raises questions of allegiance and can be used to discredit a politician entirely. This was no subtle whisper campaign; it was an overt accusation designed to create doubt and suspicion around Narek Karapetyan.
Narek Karapetyan’s response was swift and emphatic, a firm denial aimed at quashing the rumors before they could fully take root. “Alen Robertovich [Simonyan], don’t do such things,” he pleaded, perhaps a touch of exasperation in his virtual voice. “I am not a citizen of Russia, I have never had any other citizenship except RA [(Republic of Armenia)] citizenship, I have lived in Russia less in my life than in England or Switzerland.” His words are a direct refutation, attempting to dismantle the accusation by emphasizing his unwavering Armenian identity and downplaying any significant ties to Russia. Furthermore, the Central Electoral Commission of Armenia weighed in, adding another layer of complexity. They confirmed that during the registration of MP candidates, they had indeed checked Narek Karapetyan’s documents and verified that he was solely a citizen of Armenia. This seemed like a definitive rebuttal, a bureaucratic stamp of approval that should have put the matter to rest.
However, the plot thickened dramatically with the entry of the Investigative Committee of Armenia. On the very day the lawsuits were announced, the Investigative Committee issued a statement that cast a dark shadow over Karapetyan’s denials. They alleged that Narek Karapetyan “intentionally had concealed information about having or having had foreign citizenship.” This wasn’t just a political squabble anymore; this was a criminal offense. Based on their report, the Yerevan Investigative Department of the Investigative Committee initiated criminal proceedings under Section 1 of Article 449 of the Criminal Code, which addresses the concealment of information that impedes the acquisition or retention of official status. “An investigation is underway,” the Committee ominously added, signaling that this story is far from over. This dramatic turn transforms a political debate into a serious legal inquiry, with potentially severe ramifications for Narek Karapetyan and, by extension, the Strong Armenia party. The stage is set for a lengthy and intense legal and political drama, illustrating the often brutal and unforgiving nature of Armenian political life.