In Armenia, the troubled construction of the world’s tallest Christ

A 77-meter statue of Christ, conceptualized and financed by a powerful oligarch, is being met with reluctance in Armenia. The Armenian Apostolic Church argued that the project does not align with its aesthetic canons.
The Christ statue being built in Armenia (YouTube screengrab)
In front of the construction site, everyone wondered why his face looks so sad. The bust of a monumental Jesus in this drab suburb of Yerevan, the capital of Armenia, is surprising enough. His seemingly downcast expression, with eyes looking downward, adds to the astonishment of passersby. The lead sculptor is tired of the question. “It’s what was requested,” he grudgingly admitted, refusing to give his name.
After many twists and turns, a giant Christ will indeed soon appear in the Armenian sky. In fact, it’s safe to say it will pierce through it. The statue, set to stand atop Mount Hatis (2,528 meters), will rise 77 meters high, including its concrete base. This will far surpass the current world record holder, Poland’s Christ the King statue, which stands at 52 meters. The aluminum parts, designed to mimic white stone, are ready. According to our sources, the final assembly is scheduled to take place in the coming months, with little fanfare.
This summer, artifacts and carved arrows were finally removed from the site. Four experts from the National Institute of Archaeology were sent for a rushed excavation of the fortress. They now prefer to remain anonymous, claiming they have faced “intimidation.” From whom? Perhaps Gagik Tsarukyan, the project’s originator and financier, and one of the few true believers in its value.
The 67-year-old oligarch built his fortune on the ruins of the Soviet Union after 1991. Now heading an empire spanning media to real estate, the businessman—accused of vote-buying during a brief stint in politics—has many allies within the government. His influence, once earning him the title of world arm-wrestling champion, enabled him to push through opposition to his plans.
The main opposition to the statue comes from Etchmiadzin, the Holy See of the Armenian Apostolic Church, the national church of Armenia, which criticized the statue’s aesthetic for being more Catholic than Armenian. This church prides itself on simplicity, favoring the construction of khatchkars — crosses carved in pink tuff reliefs—without human representation. Never decorative statues, let alone ones covered in phosphorescent material to glow at night like the future Christ of Hatis.
Meetings between high-ranking church officials and the oligarch’s team were held to amend the project but yielded no results. From the garden of his bishopric in Gyumri, the second and oldest diocese in Armenia, Archbishop Mikayel Ajapahian reacted coolly. According to him, “Mr. Tsarukyan has decided to do whatever he wants, and it’s unfortunate: there is nothing Armenian or even religious about it.”
After two years of requests from La Croix, Tsarukyan finally responded in writing. He described his vision of the statue as dedicated “to the unity of Armenians here and in the diaspora.” He believed that “tens of millions of tourists” will come to admire the monument. “It will make a great spot for Sunday barbecues,” Archbishop Ajapahian commented dryly.