Most functioning societies are built like a pyramid. The vast majority of people reside at the base, and as you move upward, fewer individuals hold increasingly concentrated power. This is essentially true, regardless of the governing model. The fundamental difference between an autocratic system and a representative democracy is that, in the former, power is inherited or seized, while in the latter, it is enabled by the people.
In a democracy, the base of the pyramid allocates some of its natural freedom to a governing body in exchange for security and stability. In return, citizens agree to function within a structure of laws. When a majority of people feel that this contract has been altered, they may redefine it — a process we call an election.
Democracy, and its adjacent mechanisms, is often messy. It functions best when people take their role seriously through active participation. This should not be limited to voting, but should also include ongoing feedback and advocacy directed at those to whom responsibility has been delegated. In a true democracy, the pyramid should feel inverted, with the will of the people prevailing. Achieving this ideal, however, has proven difficult when partisan behavior, ambivalence and the absence of a shared purpose intervene.
This model can be applied to the current dilemma facing the government of Armenia and the Holy See of Etchmiadzin. It should matter to all of us — especially those who feel powerless — that both the Prime Minister and the Catholicos of all Armenians occupy elected positions. That means both are ultimately accountable to an electorate.
It is common, however, for electorates to become passive after elections, which runs counter to the democratic model. Any system, regardless of what it governs, requires active and sustained participation between elections. In Armenia, this operates on a five-year cycle under a parliamentary system established by the Constitution. The election of a catholicos, by contrast, is for life, with provisions for resignation.
The Great House of Cilicia has historically used a “coadjutor” provision when a sitting catholicos faces health concerns. Most recently, Karekin I of Cilicia was elevated as coadjutor to Khoren I Paroyan until the latter’s passing.
Democratic elections are often unpredictable in participation. Voting is both a right and a privilege, but not a requirement. Many elections in the United States, for example, are conducted with less than 50% participation among eligible voters. In predictably partisan districts — so-called red or blue — candidates may win primaries unopposed or with 20% to 30% participation and still be virtually assured victory in the general election.
Within our churches, despite participatory processes, many adherents feel removed from influencing the tenure of church leaders. Retreating into aloofness or complaint places strain on a system that depends on an engaged base to function effectively. Each of us contributes either to its vitality or its underutilization.
The conflict between the Armenian government and Etchmiadzin has become a headliner for politically engaged Armenians in the diaspora. It is unsettling, nearly unprecedented and clouded by uncertainty. Yet much of the energy generated by this crisis is being misdirected into informal discussions, personality-driven tirades and gossip.
Our leaders should recognize this and encourage the use of established, hierarchical participatory processes as productive channels during this difficult moment. What does that mean in practice? It is that time of year again — not Christmas or New Year’s, but the season of annual parish assemblies across both Prelacy- and Diocese-affiliated churches.
These assemblies represent the most fundamental expression of participatory democracy within the Armenian Apostolic Church. They deliberate on parish affairs and elect parish councils, boards of trustees and delegates to national and diocesan assemblies. The current crisis should be placed on the agenda of these meetings, at minimum allowing members to express their views and hear those of their peers. Ideally, assemblies may also arrive at a consensus message to be conveyed to the primate or prelate.
Leaders often shape their views based on input from superiors, peers and constituencies. If the latter rely solely on informal channels, that input may never reach decision-makers.
This concern extends beyond parishes directly affiliated with Holy Etchmiadzin. All Armenian Christians are spiritually impacted by the stability and strength of the Mother See, where the Armenian Church was established. The Holy See of Cilicia has long been a powerful voice for the diaspora, ecumenical engagement and spiritual leadership. Recently, Vehapar Aram I articulated his belief in the unity and integrity of the Church.
Our Church operates through a careful balance of jurisdiction, respect and the primacy of the Mother See. Changes to succession, canons or inter-see relations will have significant implications across the global Church. This is precisely the moment when the voices of the laity must be heard. We should encourage each other to channel our thoughts into the established parish processes.
The diocesan level is particularly important. Bishops of Etchmiadzin dioceses — and the Prelacy — are elected by national or diocesan assemblies to four-year terms. In North America, primates serve as the day-to-day representatives of their dioceses to Holy Etchmiadzin and the Catholicos. At a time when some bishops, even in North America, are publicly breaking chains of loyalty, the convening of a special assembly — in person or virtually — may be necessary to openly address differences and redirect collective resources constructively.
We should never fear the consequences of democracy. That would be both unfortunate and arrogant. What we should fear instead is apathy and the erosion of credibility.
We are a hierarchical Church and, at times, we lose sight of the breadth of the pyramid’s base. Without the faithful who populate our parishes and sustain our dioceses, there is no Church.
Maintaining connection across the hierarchy requires deliberate effort. Leaders must provide vehicles for vertical communication, and the faithful must choose to engage. When our bishops gather in synods or the Spiritual Council, they must know how their people feel. That can only occur through established participatory processes.
We are not here merely to manage financial or administrative affairs. If we are truly part of a global Church, we must engage during times of challenge as well as moments of joy. This is your Church. It deserves more than whispered gossip or patronizing gestures toward clergy that ultimately prevent progress.
The Armenian Church in the diaspora has long struggled with passivity among its members. This may be driven by secular pressures or the assumption that “the Church will be there when I need it.” And it will — our clergy remain committed to sacramental life, pastoral care and service regardless of participation levels. That commitment is one of the great strengths of our faith and why it must be sustained, if our heritage is to survive.
But the inverse question remains: Are we willing to be there for the Church?
Many Armenians maintain a formal, cordial but shallow relationship with clergy, particularly senior clergy. While this is slowly changing, as church leaders engage more actively with younger generations, a cultural reluctance persists. At the National Representative Assembly of the Prelacy or the Diocesan Assembly of the Diocese, the authority of bishops is significant under canon law and protocol, yet laity rarely challenge clergy in official forums. Issues involving clergy — even elected ones — remain largely taboo.
Rumors of misconduct or corruption within senior clergy have circulated for decades, yet are seldom addressed within official church structures. The laity bear responsibility not only to uphold the Church’s values but also to resist treating it as a vehicle for personal recognition or social safety.
Many avoid meaningful engagement out of fear — fear of disrupting spiritual focus, fear of social repercussions, fear of being labeled “rebellious” or “disrespectful.” In this sense, the underutilization of our democratic structures is partly self-inflicted. While it is easy to assign blame to leaders or councils, passivity at the base of the pyramid is itself a contributing factor.
Unfortunately assigning blame does little, if anything, to provide a solution. Our ancestors built a Church model that was remarkably progressive for its time, but one that depends on participation. That responsibility now rests with us.
