The honking started early. Around Grigor Lusavorich “The Illuminator” Church, vehicles of all shapes and ages set out hours before Armenia’s National Assembly was due to convene to appoint the country’s new prime minister. Ancient Soviet Ladas and shiny SUVs alike were driven down the central Tigran Mets, all flapping the Armenian orange-blue-red flag, and all beeping, hard. It was the summons to the square.

Not that people needed it. After weeks of protests that have transformed Armenia’s politics from a sluggish Soviet Lada to a speedy Lamborghini in a matter of three weeks, Republic Square has become the pulsing heart of a whole country called to wake up from its lethargic post-Soviet stillness.

The change has come in the form of a former newspaper editor who typically wears a camouflage T-shirt and carries a black backpack. Nikol Pashinian, the 42-year-old leader of the small Civic Contract party - part of the opposition bloc Yelk (Way Out Alliance) - masterminded the largest street protests in independent Armenia’s history. Having ousted Serzh Sargsyan, who was president for a decade before attempting, in a power grab that angered of much of the population, to transition to the prime minister's post, Pashinian was on May 1 blocked from becoming PM. The Republican Party-dominated National Assembly voted him down following an excruciating nine-hour marathon debate, but may not have reckoned with the outpouring of further popular discontent that their move would cause on the streets.

Thus, following massive non-violent civil disobedience that captured the headlines around the world, on May 8 at a special second meeting of the Armenian parliament Pashinian was finally voted in as the interim prime minister. The country's Velvet Revolution is over. The people have won. Once more, no acts of violence were committed by the well-disciplined crowd. The government didn't dare use the police or army to reassert control as the incumbents saw their authority evaporate in the face of a message of love and forgiveness by the one-time journalist and political prisoner.

Now the hard part starts. Pashinian has promised to dissolve parliament in a matter of weeks and hold fresh elections. He promises to reform the country and bring prosperity to its battered population. He also promises there will be no vendettas. But it won't be easy. Armenia has achieved the latest of a string of coloured revolutions that have toppled venal elites across the former Soviet Union, but none of those revolutions have actually succeeded in the final analysis in much improving the lives of their citizens. Armenia still has everything to do.

Armenia 2.0
The Armenian Velvet Revolution - as Pashinian has named the movement, after the 1989 non-violent transition of power that took place in what was then Czechoslovakia - has been brewing for years. Decades of corruption and cronyism have hurt Armenians. One third of the population of 2.9mn lives in poverty and since 2008 about 300,000 people have left the country seeking employment abroad, mainly in Russia. At 11.6% of GDP, remittances are key to keeping households afloat.

Street protests are now an integral part of Armenia’s political culture and they started in Soviet times. Since 2008, people have been taking to the street on a regular basis, to denounce everything from election fraud to hikes in public transport fares.

The game changer was Electric Yerevan. That protest against a 16.7% hike in electricity tariffs in June 2015 drew thousands on to the streets, galvanising the capital and grabbing the world's attention through an unprecedented campaign on social media. The hashtag #ElectricYerevan trended on the Internet and helped the movement to attract media attention previously unknown to Armenia.

“This is the culmination of all the previous civic movements. Every bit of experience and knowledge gained in those past mobilisations has been put to use here. From the idea of decentralised protests in the 100 Drams movement [against sharp hike in public transport ticket pricing] to the positivity and humour used in the No Pasaran Campaign [for constitutional reform] – it has all led up to this very moment,” explains Babken Dergrigoryan, who coined the hashtag #ElectricYerevan and is today part of Pashinian’s transition team.

Three years later, hashtags again brought Armenia on to the web stage: when the President-turned-Prime-Minister Sargsyan resigned on April 23 #rejectSerzh morphed into #rejectHHK, the acronym of the Republic Party. The web has been flooded with iconic images portraying a chanting crowd that at night switched their phones on, illuminating the rose-coloured tuff of the buildings surrounding the square. For weeks, the vast majority of those assembling were young – the digital generation telling the analogue “Your time is up.”

Sixty-seven-year-old Minas Chtrkyan does not look out of place in this Armenia 2.0.

“I was with Nikol in 2008 [for a street protest following the presidential vote for Sargsyan]. I am here today. He loves Armenia, Artsakh [as Armenians call the disputed territory of Nagorno-Karabakh] and their people,” says the war veteran, wearing a stern look and dressed in his uniform, while distributing water bottles to the people following the parliamentary discussion aired on a large screen.

A new sense of purpose
Addressing a packed and rapturous square on May 7, Serj Tankian, frontman of the Armenian-American band System of a Down said that “the world knows us [Armenians] through genocide, earthquake, and war. But you have elevated Armenia’s rating. You overcame your fear, you found power in your unity.” A descendant of survivors of the Armenian genocide and a strong advocate for Armenia and its people, Tankian’s words resonated with many.

Naira Hatamyan is another inspired by the rapid unfolding of stirring events anticipated by almost no analysts. The bank employee is a walking manifesto for the former people’s candidate, now prime minister. She is dressed in a white T-shirt with Pashinian’s profile along with a matching hat, while her shoulders are wrapped in the Armenian flag. She carries a poster of the people's hero.

“He gave us a new sense of purpose. People are proud to be Armenian,” says the dark eyed and 28-year-old teller, with a radiant smile. “My dream is that his team will be able to fix the economy so that Armenians will not be leaving their country, but will be returning. Because it is a new country.”

Artavazd Tertesian is in no doubt about that. The 21-year-old computer science student hails from Kessab, a predominantly Armenian-populated town in northwestern Syria. As the war spread in 2014, he moved to Yerevan to pursue his studies. His parents, farmers, stayed behind.

“It is difficult to find the words to describe what this means to me. This feeling of renewed hope I see in people is deeply touching. It is priceless,” he says as he balances cappuccinos on a tray in the café where he works part-time.

Open For Revolution
The jam-packed café reflects a country, which is open for revolution. The movement has been good for people – and businesses have benefited too.

“We’ve been working non-stop. Foreigners, Armenians returning from abroad [from the Armenian diaspora thought to number some 11mn people worldwide], residents, all looking to buy sim cards, larger Internet packages, anything to fasten the online speed and mobile calls,” explains, in impeccable English, Anna Maria Sarkissian, 22, as she attends to a long queue in the mobile phone provider shop just off Republic Square where she works. Providers have reinforced their presence in and around the square to increase the capacity for video and photo sharing. Satellite dishes have mushroomed.

Not to mention the merchandising for the revolution. Pashinian’s face is on T-shirts, posters, and leaflets while the whole of the central part of Yerevan is a moving sea of white T-shirts and caps with the script “dukhov,” which roughly translates as “courage” or “spirit.”

As soon as a few drops of rain started to fall after Pashinian’s appointment, street sellers hawking umbrellas sprouted everywhere.

Even in the face of such an enormous success as that enjoyed by the Pashinian camp and his massive following, some people retain their scepticism. Like Lusine. In her 60s, the water seller rejoices for the increased business, but says, “I’ll believe in the change when I’ll see it.”

As the party engulfs the city, time has come to think about what is next.

“We’ll sleep. We haven’t for week,” jokes Arayik Harutyunyan, a member of the Yerevan municipal council for the Yelk coalition. “Then we need to form the cabinet as soon as possible, and look closely at the situation in the ministries as many people have resigned over the weeks. But this is the people’s revolution, we’ll talk to everyone to form a government of national unity – our door is open to everyone who wants this new Armenia to succeed.”