The latest turmoil surrounding the Armenian Apostolic Church is not an internal ecclesiastical dispute, nor is it the product of sincere spiritual concern. It is the consequence of a deliberate political operation aimed at dismantling the last institution in Armenia that Prime Minister Nikol Pashinyan does not control. What government media calls “reform” is, in truth, an assault on the spiritual center of the Armenian nation, timed and executed with unmistakable political intent.
This month, a group of bishops and archbishops abruptly revolted against Catholicos Garegin II after an AI-generated sexual video targeting Archbishop Arshak Khachatrian was circulated by a Telegram account widely believed to be linked to the authorities. Archbishop Arshak immediately denounced the video as fabricated. The Catholicos responded by convening a commission to examine its authenticity. Yet before the commission could meet, the rebellious clerics accused Garegin II of covering up a “sacrilegious act,” issued a public statement calling for “cleansing” Etchmiadzin, and then walked directly into Pashinyan’s office for a meeting.
The Mother See subsequently revealed that the accusations were baseless: the commission had never been obstructed, and the same bishops who accused the Catholicos had only days earlier unanimously agreed to create a smaller body empowered to suspend Archbishop Arshak pending an investigation. The claim that state investigators had verified the video’s authenticity was also false. Law enforcement has not confirmed anything. The Mother See condemned the charges as fabricated and urged the bishops to return to canonical order. A scheduled Supreme Spiritual Council meeting could not even begin, as the rebellious bishops intentionally refused to appear, preventing a quorum.
This episode does not stand alone. It fits into a broader pattern that began in late May, when Pashinyan publicly accused top clergy of having secret families and breaking their vows of celibacy—allegations presented without proof. Shortly thereafter, Archbishop Bagrat Galstanian, who led mass protests against the government, was arrested on coup charges. Archbishop Mikael Ajapahian was arrested and sentenced to two years after an unusually rapid trial. Bishop Mkrtich Proshian, a nephew of the Catholicos, was arrested in October. Another nephew and the Catholicos’ own brother were detained soon after on politically tinged accusations. Each of these figures had publicly criticized the government. Each became a target.
Now, with a small circle of compromised or vulnerable bishops breaking ranks and aligning themselves with the prime minister, the campaign has entered a new phase: the attempt to topple the Catholicos himself. Government allies openly claim that Garegin II’s resignation is inevitable. Priests loyal to the Catholicos reject the idea entirely, noting that a Catholicos may resign only for theological deviation, not manufactured scandal. They warn that blackmail has likely been used to coerce certain bishops into rebellion—an accusation reinforced by the personal histories of some of the clerics now acting as the government’s agents inside the Church.
The stakes of this crisis extend far beyond the walls of Etchmiadzin. The Armenian Apostolic Church is the oldest national institution we possess. It has survived empires, wars, genocide, and the loss of statehood itself. For centuries it was the sole guardian of Armenian identity. Today it remains the one institution in Armenia still capable of resisting a government that has already dismantled the army’s independence, subordinated state institutions, prosecuted dissenters, and aligned Armenia’s geopolitical direction with the interests of Ankara and Baku.
The revolt against the Catholicos is not a spontaneous moral outcry. It is a state-backed intervention designed to fracture the Church from within, discredit its leadership, and replace spiritual authority with political control. If this operation succeeds, the consequences for the Armenian nation will be profound. A Church stripped of independence would accelerate the erosion of Armenian identity, sever the diaspora’s spiritual anchor, and leave the Armenian people defenseless against further national concessions.
At this critical moment, Armenians must recognize the true nature of the campaign underway in Etchmiadzin. This is not a fight about morality or reform. It is a struggle over the soul of the nation. And the forces seeking to tear down the Church are not acting in service of Armenia’s future, but in service of a political project that demands the dismantling of every institution capable of resisting national surrender.
The Church is now the final barrier.
If it falls, what remains of Armenia’s identity will fall with it.
