During the Take A Step movement, the head of the Way Out Alliance, Lena Nazaryan, played a very interesting role. In addition to being a participant in serious political movements, she also became an example for self control and making fast decisions in tense situations.

She didn’t appear much in broadcasts, nor did she create her own channel of live broadcasts, she’s not well known for her rhetorical talent, but in her way, her role during this open hands revolution was very important.

In fact, being a female politician in a patriarchal society surrounded by open media platforms is doubly interesting (perhaps as interesting as starting a revolution itself), since the opportunities for correcting behavioral models become more sensitive and flexible.

For example, ultimate pragmatism contrasts clean and radiant idealism.

Lena Nazaryan considers herself to be an idealist. That is probably the best counter attack on the stagnant and molded reality.

Being in front of open media became the basis of the movement. Was that a calculated decision from the very first march?

I don’t think that it was premeditated rather, natural. It began from the very first live broadcast in Gyumri, where Nikol Pashinyan went live instead of organizing a press conference to announce that we were taking our step.

What happens when we are open in front of everyone, showing people how we are getting wet under the rain, getting cold at night, getting sunburned in the afternoon, overcoming difficulties etc., was a discovery even for me.

We began to walk, and over the course of a few days, the changes in our appearances showed. Men started growing beards, our hands were sunburned, then we had frostbite, then we were sunburned again.

I thought that maybe we were showing much more than we should.

For example, we were talking about where we should choose to sleep, in an abandoned building which had a roof, or to set up our tents on the damp ground. Then all of a sudden we see that one of our team members had gone live and recorded our conversation.

We didn’t even notice that people were watching us live.

I think that that natural situation and our directness helped us in the future. We showed how we were in real life, so to speak “without ties.” In that environment where real people live.

We also showed how we treat each other, how we solve problems, and people got to know us.

But your protest had very little response at that time.

There was very little response, but there were many applications.

Society was watching, took notice and followed us thinking, these are politicians? These people who ate potatoes and tomatoes brought by farmers and who slept in tents? Serzh Sargsyan and the rest wouldn’t do that, as they would prefer elite conditions.  

Our entrance in real life was not formal, Nikol Pashinyan was the same as he appeared to be in his live videos. He likes to sit on the ground, eat what is popular food among the people. Showing all of this helped people to get to know us..

The chain reaction played a major role. Is working in open and live conditions as important now as it was during the revolution?

I am sure that the direct connection should stay and the conversation with the people continue. If we lose the connection for feedback, we will find ourselves cut-off from reality again.

I have been carrying out responsibilities in parliament for a year, but I had never been so close to people as I have been during this two week campaign. People greeted us us on the way, honked their horns on the street, offered us whatever they happened to have, apple, bread and cheese.

I finally understood that I am communicating with people who are living real lives.

Podiums always distort things and cut you off from reality. I think that the National Assembly podium does that as well.

My speech at the National Assembly on May 8 was the first time I realized that I really have something to say, that my words had a meaning and people had heard it.

In the past, when I spoke I had the feeling (and that was clearly apparent in my speech), that no matter how important and meaningful my words are, I can’t connect with people. People didn’t perceive me as their representative in the National Assembly. It seemed to me that I was always alienated.

Honestly, I understood for the first time in my May 8 speech that I was being listened to and I was grateful for that connection.

Many in the government’s new team are not as experienced and as oratorical as Nikol Pashinyan, they can make mistakes, delete posts from social media and try again. It seems charming and viable.

All of our ministers are people who have been registered on Facebook long ago and have different pictures in a friendly environment, including when drunk. They were involved in various online discussions where they may have allowed themselves to make rude remarks or write angry comments.

In other words, they had sincere and direct contact with people through media. Now they are continuing to maintain that connection through media.

I think that’s very important, because if the minister, deputy or Prime Minister are suddenly cut off from reality, they lose the connection with the present time and that’s the end.

In general, that process has started around the globe long ago, when neither the government nor the opposition have the representative mandate that they had in the past.

People, especially now, want to participate and engage in the process rather than leave it up to their representatives. They think, I don’t need to be represented (I can do that myself) it’s better to be involved in the decision making process.

I am already a media player, even if only in my social media account, and I want to be helped so that my words are heard from higher platforms than a Facebook status.

People can very clearly see that, even if politicians do not understand it.

Releasing your speech on April 22 was very symbolic during a time when Nikol Pashinyan and a few representatives were seized, and questions began to rise about what actions needed to be taken, and by whom.

There was a precedent which didn’t appear in the media. After the meeting with Serzh Sargsyan, when Nikol, Ararat and Sasun were taken away (their location wasn’t even known), Armen and Davit were arrested, people in civilian clothing also took Tigran. Very few people were left on the team who trusted one another. Suren was also unable to approach the stage at the Republic Square.

Ruben and I were the only two left, and there were thousands of people at the square who were waiting.

In addition to that, representatives of other political  forces came and tried to address the people, for example Zaruhi Postanjyan.

We understood, that if we didn’t speak then, anyone could have gone on stage and make any kind of statement.

For example, make a call to go to Baghramyan, which would have immediately been the basis for clashes and create a state of emergency.

Was there no fear? Maybe there was a decision not to arrest women, which can also be considered a manifestation of sexual discrimination (a woman is not a threat).

Actually, there was a big fear. On the day that we left the office and headed for Mashtots Avenue, we saw that people in civilian clothing were running after us.

Of course, I understood that they had no right to arrest me, but that was only theoretically. I began to run, and simply ran out of breath. Luckily there was a busy protest at Mashtots, which I was able to join.

I think that it saved me and gave me the opportunity to reach the stage, since they couldn’t take me from within the march, people simply would not have let them.

Even if they did not arrest me, then they definitely would have isolated me. They wanted to do it in such a way that no one would speak from the platform.

Until that speech, I had never spoken from the stage, especially in front of such a large crowd. During the movement that was the first and last time.

I simply couldn’t. I would go on the stage, I would see people’s smiles and eyes, it gave the impression of looking at the starry sky, and I couldn’t find the words.

It seemed impossible to look at so many people and say simple things. So, for the first time I spoke only out of necessity to convey Nikol’s message, that whatever happens, we are going to continue our struggle.

Was what happened a revolution? As a term. And if yes, then what word would you use to describe the current situation?

I am even ready to agree with the Chief of Police, Osipyan, that this was a change of government, because a revolution is a change of societal relations.
It will be a revolution when there is no longer domestic violence, when universities are depoliticized, when courts make fair judgements, when employees do not feel deprived of their rights and their voices in the workplace, when the state system is no longer corrupt.

A change of power is simply a change of the political elite, and in our case, partial, since the government has changed, but the National Assembly has not.

There are people in our current government, who are idealists. They are supporters of those ideas that governance should be open, transparent, accountable, and it can be seen in their direct contact with the media. They believe in the values that they speak about.

Are ideas values?

For me they are values, and so I am also an idealist.

The revolution is not over, since many important structures are still found in the hands of the Republican Party, and we should be ready for their counterattacks.
So, everything is still ahead of us. It is going to be very difficult.

Interview by Nune Hakhverdyan