Exile on trial — Faultline

Yerevan's luxury mile. Very rich Russians in particular live here

The unmistakable Moscow accent can be heard strikingly often in many corners of Yerevan. This may be partly due to Russian tourists, but the number of Russian citizens living temporarily or permanently in Armenia has definitely multiplied since 2022. According to the Armenian Minister of Economy at the time, 110,000 Russians settled in Armenia in the first year of Russia's full-scale invasion of Ukraine alone.

At that time, many Russians had hastily left their country - partly in panic about the possible consequences of the war and in anticipation of border closures. Since then there has been a lot of coming and going in Armenia. Some of the Russians who relocated stayed, others moved on, and quite a few returned to Russia. The demand for apartments is currently increasing immensely again, comparable to the first phase after the start of the full Russian invasion. In the past three months, rental prices for housing have increased by around 30 percent.

Anna Grebennikova traveled to Armenia in February 2023. “With a one-way ticket,” she emphasizes. There is no way back for them; Shortly before she left the country, her house was searched.

“We have been in Yerevan for six months,” says Pjotr*. The possibility of being drafted into the army after all worried him greatly. It was his idea to leave Moscow and give up his job as a university lecturer; his mother Svetlana* supported him. Armenia was her first choice. “There are a lot of Armenians living in Russia, so we know that they are very sociable,” explains Svetlana. “It’s not a culture shock for us.”

The country also offers advantages in practical terms, as both Russia and Armenia belong to the Eurasian Economic Union. Entry is possible with a Russian domestic passport. Once a rental agreement has been presented, the restriction on the length of stay of 180 days per year no longer applies; an employment contract is required for a regular residence permit.

Pjotr and Svetlana took part in social protests in Moscow. In Yerevan they supported refugees from Iran, and occasionally they attend political events organized by Russian exiles, but on the whole they find little support from other Russian-speaking exiles and feel quite isolated. They are currently forced to live on their savings. Svetlana is a pensioner, Pjotr is looking for a job in vain: "I'm always put off." The initial euphoria after their arrival has long since passed, but at the same time the news from Russia frightens them. They don't know what to do next. It's a life in limbo.

“Relocant” or immigrant? Both terms are circulating in Russian-language chats and media to analytically summarize the wave of emigration from Russia since 2022: just “moved” or completely “emigrated”? “The first term is used more often, but many people don’t recognize it,” explains Anna Grebennikova. Not even she herself, after all, as the word “relocant” suggests, she didn’t simply change her place of residence and work. “I am a political immigrant,” states the trained historian and anthropologist. Grebennikova is doing her doctorate at the Yerevan Institute of Archeology and Ethnography on the topic of immigration from Russia, Ukraine and Belarus to Armenia against the background of the Russian war of aggression against Ukraine.

According to Grebennikova, the number of 35,000 to 40,000 Russian citizens currently living in Armenia was recently mentioned at a scientific conference. She herself estimates that almost a third of them sought and found refuge in Armenia for political reasons. But the assignment is complicated. Refugees include those who had to leave Russia headlong because of political persecution. Others, however, refused to talk about their motives or were undecided about which self-description best applied to them.

Georgia, where many Russian exiles have also settled, was not an option for Anna Grebennikova because politically active people with a Russian passport are often refused entry.

Grebennikova traveled to Armenia in February 2023. “With a one-way ticket,” she emphasizes. There is no way back for them; Shortly before she left the country, her house was searched and she sold her apartment in Russia. Georgia, where many Russian exiles have also settled, was not an option for them because politically active people with Russian passports were often refused entry. Armenia therefore proved to be the best choice, although there were certain disadvantages here too - for example, the poor air quality in Yerevan, especially in December. Grebennikova also refers to the patriarchal structures and invasive male behavior that are firmly anchored in society. She attracts attention simply because of her punky, queer appearance. However, compared to Georgia, where she was confronted with threats of violence, the situation in Armenia is much more relaxed.

Security is a big issue in exile. "I feel relatively safe here from the Russian state," says Grebennikova. She even overcame her fear of the police. In recent years there have been two cases in which Russian conscientious objectors were kidnapped by Russian military personnel. In July 2025, the Armenian police managed to prevent a kidnapping through timely intervention. Since then, there have been repeated arrests of Russian nationals who were wanted by Russia, but the Armenian authorities have behaved quite accommodatingly and have so far allowed those arrested to travel to a third country or released them soon and do not bother them any further.

Russians are now preparing to move to Armenia far more carefully than they did just a few years ago. New arrivals benefit from self-help groups, companies, bars and meeting places such as the co-working café “Letters and Numbers”, which are run by Russian exiles. Events also take place here that are not specifically aimed at Russian emigrants and are attracting more and more younger Armenians. "But it's unclear who integrates into what," says Grebennikova. "Sometimes it seems to me as if Armenians integrate into the Russian community and not the other way around."

Grebennikova worked in a private Russian school in Yerevan for two years. There were parents who objected to their children learning about the Armenian language and culture once a week. Imperial thought patterns are omnipresent among Russian exiles, which is causing conflicts with the Armenian population.

In the Russian school in Evivan there were parents who objected to their children learning about the Armenian language and culture once a week. Imperial thought patterns are omnipresent among Russian exiles, which is causing conflicts with the Armenian population.

And Grebennikova highlights another phenomenon: “Here you either get married or you get divorced.” Anyone who enters the country as a couple will either separate in the foreseeable future or get married. Emigration is an enormous test of endurance. Not far from the co-working café, a wedding is actually being celebrated in another café and bookstore founded by Russian exiles. A young man in a black hat confidently leads the guests through the evening. Aleksej says that he used to moderate wedding celebrations as a professional, but now it happened more by chance. In Russia he was active in the LGBT organization Majak, but in his home country he is now considered an extremist. For him, Yerevan was just a short stopover; as soon as his partner arrived, they both wanted to continue to France together on a humanitarian visa.

The fact that emigration may drag on indefinitely is often a bitter realization. Igor might not have left Russia at all if there hadn't been a real danger lurking there that his wife could end up in prison for donating money to the anti-corruption fund of the opposition activist Aleksei Navalny, who died in custody, which is banned in Russia. There are now enough cases like this. In Moscow he had worked as an election observer and now advised from a distance those who intended to take action against irregularities in Moscow polling stations during the Duma election in September. He actually wanted to cast his vote at the Russian embassy in Yerevan on September 20th, but ultimately decided against it. At the first meeting with Igor before the election, he still exuded a bit of optimism, but a few days later his mood changed. What comes after the war, he said, is difficult to imagine. The only thing that is clear is that things will never be the same again.

Success stories are the exception in emigration, but there are definitely people who manage to reinvent themselves and be happy with it. One of them is Tatjana. The woman in her mid-forties initially focused on psychological counseling for other emigrants until she finally became self-employed as a designer. “This is possible even without knowledge of the Armenian language,” she reports. In the future she wants to try her luck as an architect; she is currently completing an architecture course for low-rise buildings. She doesn't mind the fact that she is barred from returning to Russia for political reasons, but she also knows only too well that her experience cannot be generalized. »Everyone here has to find their own way.«