Mikayel Minasyan: Ruben Vardanyan is one of the protomartyrs of our time

By Mikayel Minasyan, former Armenian Ambassador to the Holy See

The Armenian Apostolic Church commemorates the Feast of Saint Stephen, the first martyr and deacon, on December 25. The feast is observed by all Christian churches worldwide. While the dates may differ, the meaning is the same: Stephen was the first whom the people refused to hear and killed by stoning.

Stephen’s life and martyrdom embodied truth, will and courage. His preaching, fearless stance, wisdom and steadfastness enraged the Pharisees and scribes. They condemned him to death as a blasphemer and heretic. For this reason, he is also called the protomartyr.

Every era gives birth to its own forerunner martyrs. Most of them, in one form or another, are also martyred. One of the protomartyrs of our time is Ruben Vardanyan.

He possessed virtually every worldly asset – wealth, influence, fame – yet he sought two things: history and love. He wanted to change the course of Armenian history, to earn a place within it and to be loved by his people.

From the early 2000s onward, Ruben Vardanyan’s entire public activity focused on a search for history and love. He believed Armenians were perpetually preoccupied with the future, thus he launched the Armenia 2020 initiative. It united people from the youngest to the oldest generations to collectively shape a vision for the future.

Later, he sought to translate vision into action, to embody the national impulse to be “the first and the best.” Sometimes he carried this belief consciously. Thus, he built the world’s longest aerial tramway, which opened the Tatev Monastery Complex to the world and gave it, through his and his associates’ care, a second life.

He believed education could alter the course of history. By integrating Armenia into the global educational landscape through the Dilijan school, he imagined a future in which global elites would leave Armenia not merely educated, but transformed, carrying with them memory, gratitude and a lifelong bond with the country. Armenia was not just educating students; it was cultivating enduring allies.

He believed Armenians had a special mission and a people who survived genocide should become preventers of future genocides and standard-bearers of global humanitarianism. This conviction gave birth to the Aurora Humanitarian Initiative.

In all that he did – consciously or instinctively – Ruben sought alignment with the people’s narrative. He wanted to touch hearts, to heal wounds. He loved his people, but he also longed to be loved back.

At a time when Armenia still had a different value system and geopolitical framework, he chose to distinguish himself through personal example. He sent his son to serve in the Artsakh army, seeking to be an anti-trend or the only authentic trend. He did everything he could to earn love. Yet he was relentlessly attacked. And the more he was stoned and  misunderstood, the more stubbornly he continued to seek that love.

After the defeat in the 44-day Artsakh war, he publicly renounced his Russian citizenship and moved to Artsakh following a prevailing trend. A man who had everything ascended the altar of his homeland.

From that moment onward, the misunderstanding between him and the people reached its peak. He was accused of all sorts of things, from being a Russian spy to planning to turn Armenia into “Tatarstan”. Unlike Armenia’s leadership, he defended Armenian identity and essence on the BBC, while regime propagandists cursed him and accused him of plotting to turn Armenia into a “province”. The brighter he shone, the harder they tried to dim him.

This was not a battle of sides. Nor was it merely propaganda posts. Those posts existed, but those who amplified, agreed with, and commented on them were the very society that first alienated him, then doubted him, then accused him and has now forgotten him.

Literally forgotten him in the Baku prison – unheard and misunderstood.

Just like Saint Stephen.

I had many long conversations with Ruben. We rarely agreed on much. His unyielding determination and unquestionable love for the people could easily be mistaken by a stranger for naivety or obstinacy. Today, it is clear that he was simply following his destiny.

Recently, an Azerbaijani propaganda film featuring Ruben appeared online. In it, Samvel Babayan. a former infamous Artsakh commander whose post-1994 actions contributed to the erosion of Artsakh through looting and discredit, was given a platform to speak against him. Alongside him appeared several other Armenians.

Without shame or remorse, these people now attack one of Armenia’s greatest benefactors, someone who did everything for Armenia and Artsakh, who was imprisoned and taken to Baku as a result of a joint operation by Armenian and Azerbaijani special services, where he now faces a judicial farce designed to end in life imprisonment.

To make this farce convincing to the world, they produced a propaganda film and used Armenians themselves to imprison Armenia’s greatest benefactor, sending a warning to other Armenian philanthropists: no good deed goes unpunished.

Samvel Babayan, who together with Nikol Pashinyan ensured the destruction of Artsakh, managed to enter Armenia unimpeded unlike other Artsakh leaders and now freely walks the streets of Yerevan, publicly slandering one of the nation’s greatest benefactors. All of this unfolds amid absolute national silence, indifference and oblivion.

History and fate are mysterious.

Few noticed that in Stepanakert, named after Stepan Shahumyan, himself named after Saint Stephen, the penultimate chapter of the Armenian cause was closed, a chapter that had been opened in San Stefano.

Today, we commemorate Saint Stephen the Protomartyr, the first to be stoned by the people for his deeds and for speaking the truth.