ZOiS Spotlight 5/2025

Being Left-Wing: What Does It Mean for Young Women in Armenia?

by Veronika Pfeilschifter 07/03/2025

Left-wing and feminist ideas don’t have it easy in Armenia’s patriarchal society. For young women – as a new study shows – being left-wing is associated mainly with feelings of rage, fear and disappointment. At the same time, hope and solidarity play a major role in their struggle for social change.

A woman holds the Armenian version of the book ‘Feminism for the 99 %. A Manifesto’ (by Cinzia Arruzza, Tithi Bhattacharya, Nancy Fraser) during a presentation at the FemLibrary in Yerevan (2024). FemLibrary Yerevan / ՖեմԳրադարան

Translated from the German by Hillary Crowe.

According to a 2021 study by the Friedrich-Ebert-Stiftung and ZOiS, 26 per cent of young people (14-29) in Armenia consider themselves to be left-wing, with 13.4% of them identifying as far-left. This high proportion of left-wing positioning must be viewed with caution and remains uninstitutionalised at the political level. Left-wing discourses and ideas – such as FemLibrary, Armenia’s first feminist library – are marginalised in Armenian society, while left-wing groups and formations are fragmented and, for the most part, loosely organised.

As part of my doctoral research, I focused on left-wing young women in Armenia and explored to what extent political events are significant in shaping their self-image. Together with colleagues from CRRC Armenia, I therefore conducted focus groups and individual interviews during the autumn and winter of 2024/25. A total of 15 women between 19 and 29 years of age took part in the micro-study, which centred on their lived experiences and emotions.

Political and affective identities

The ‘left-wing’ label can be understood in a multitude of ways and covers diverse and sometimes conflicting ideologies, visions of society and emotional or historical associations. In our study, we started from the premise that left-wing denoted an ideal type of society (such as a gender democracy, social democracy or classless society).

Interpersonal relations were particularly influential in shaping the participants’ left-wing identity, for various reasons: some had experienced being devalued or treated unequally due to their gender, or emphasised the support received from female friends or acquaintances who were familiar with critical and feminist theory and practice. Many of them associated being left-wing with a deeply rooted sense of injustice and the desire to advocate both for others and for social justice. Negative emotions, such as anger and resentment – relating particularly to structural discrimination and the exclusion of women in Armenian society and politics – played a central role here. At the same time, feelings about the future were also important; above all, the hope of social change is a key element of their left-wing identity.

Nagorno-Karabakh and the Velvet Revolution: fear, rage and disappointment

Political events were mainly associated with feelings of ‘fear’, ‘rage’ and ‘disappointment’. Fear was mentioned by the younger participants (18-21 years) above all and was closely connected to memories of the Second Nagorno-Karabakh War (2020) initiated by Azerbaijan. For many people, the war posed major ethical dilemmas that challenged their beliefs about (anti-)militarism. The participants’ reflections cast light on three specific impacts of the war: a shift away from politics; a stronger focus on left-wing, collectivist ideas that emphasise national culture and national security; and the struggle for left-wing, individualist values which, according to many participants, are sorely neglected in Armenia.

For some, in hindsight, the losses and defeat in the war felt much like the disappointment that followed the Velvet Revolution two years earlier. Many of the interviewees had demonstrated enthusiastically for an end to a corrupt oligarchy. Others, by contrast – including some who had been involved – viewed the revolution as essentially patriarchal from the start. The protests did nothing to change their views; rather, it confirmed that the male-dominated space in Armenia would be maintained in the same form as before.

Transnational memories and experiences of mobility

For some, emotions around political events were linked to experiences of mobility and transnationalism.

Marie (25), who was troubled by Armenia’s social ‘stagnation’, had chosen to emigrate to Bulgaria in her early 20s. Due to family circumstances, she returned to Armenia a year later; this triggered ‘severe depression’ in reaction to what she perceived to be a more patriarchal society:

I was accepted into [Bulgarian] society. I belonged [to a low] category [there], but I knew that attitudes towards women […] were completely different. All in all, it was a paradise [there] for me.

Narine (25), by contrast, reports positive associations with Armenian society. She came to Armenia with her younger siblings, without their parents, after the catastrophic explosion in the Lebanese capital Beirut in 2020, and was socialised politically by events in Lebanon above all, such as the war in 2006 and the revolution in 2019. She had particularly clear memories of the collective support within society and the sense of solidarity, which she experienced again after the wars in Armenia.

As well as transnationalism, experiences of mobility within Armenia – from the outlying regions to Yerevan (or vice versa), for example – were significant for many participants’ left-wing identity. This is particularly well-illustrated by the story recounted by Sirapie (25), who is interested in feminist and Marxist theory. As a child, she was forced to move from Yerevan to Vanadzor due to her family’s socioeconomic situation. For Sirapie, the memories of these precarious circumstances and partial family breakdown were bound up with feelings of ‘despair’ and ‘helplessness’. Her study of Marxist theory helped her, in retrospect, to better understand her own and others’ similar life experiences.

Social protests: solidarity and hope

For the – comparatively – older participants (22-29), it was the political events of the 2010s, above all, that were decisive in shaping their left-wing attitudes. They had vivid, positively connoted memories of the mass protests against high electricity costs in 2015 (‘Electric Yerevan’) or the 2012 Mashtots protests against the destruction of Mashtots Park and social and economic inequality. Women were on the front lines of these protests.

Furthermore, the protests against the Amulsar gold mine near the spa resort of Jermuk in southern Armenia had a catalysing influence on some of their left-wing positions. The Amulsar mine – a highly controversial project due to the major environmental and health risks it poses to the local community – was finally given the green light in 2024. In 2019, local residents and environmental activists blockaded the mine in order to prevent the further expansion of gold extraction. Lusine (28) was among the demonstrators:

This was a very active period of neoliberalism in Armenia after the revolution [2018]. The mining industry swallowed up […] everything very quickly, as if someone was saying: ‘That mountain belongs to me; that valley belongs to me.’ It was during this period that I understood how important it was to have left-wing beliefs.

For many female participants, the opposition to the mine was often linked simultaneously to a struggle to assert themselves against male left-wingers in the protest movement and to create space for feminist ideas – an issue of key importance for most left-wing young women in Armenia who are striving for social change.


Veronika Pfeilschifter is a research affiliate within the Youth and Generational Change Research Cluster at ZOiS and a doctoral student at the Institute for Caucasus Studies in Jena.