Don’t Speak

“Don’t speak.” This, however, is the only call within ethics, which one may and should tell everyone, who, in recent days, after the four-day Karabakh war, not giving turn to one another, at press clubs, before cameras and recorders, consider their duty to give lesson within the thoughts rolled in pompous patriotic emptiness and in their opinion, giving advice to those, who think or speak of reviewing relations with Russia, and suspending Armenia’s membership to Russian stillborn structures.

“Don’t speak.” Might be told to those, who, besides speaking of the head of the political party they belong, become cautious speaking of Russia’s president and officials as well.

“Don’t speak.” Should be told to those, who in reply to DIRECT questions on arms sales to Azerbaijan by Russia, arms, which killed Armenian soldiers and children, start talking profusely and protect Russian interest within the boundaries of their thought and language flexibility.

“Don’t speak.” Might be told to those, who, by their own confession and being minor personalities in nature, expand on the fact that resolutions on interstate relations aren’t made grounded by emotions.

“Don’t speak.” Might be told to those and asked: upon which are they made? Upon which did you make? And generally did you make any decision? And weren’t you and still are implementers of decision-makers abroad?

“Don’t speak.” Might be told to those and added: and do you know what is emotion? How can you know, when emotion for you starts by cringing and ends by cheap speeches about the fatherland?

“Don’t speak.” Should be told to those and added, in the end, this is a state, and not an “Artek” camp.

“Don’t speak.” Might be told to those and added, don’t try to mislead the society with your enthusiasm of a young pioneer and an aged group leader.

“Don’t speak.” Until the society will find a way to deafen you. Like it succeeded to suppress the Azeris, shooting by the arms sold by your ideological fathers.

Shh!

By Robert Ter-Sargsyan