Imagine being offered the chance for incredible adventures as one of the first travelers to tour “previously restricted areas” – and best of all, it’s free! Sounds too good to be true, right? Indeed it is. As members of the global community of “extreme travelers” chasing excitement have been discovering, everything has its price. All expenses paid trips to Nagorno-Karabakh (Artsakh) offered to travelers by the Azerbaijani government aim to promote the nation’s image through social media influencers and use their interviews with the press to further the country’s propaganda objectives. These practices have deep ethical implications with consequences for both the influencers involved and the wider international community. 

By inviting social media influencers to Azerbaijan and the Nagorno-Karabakh region, the government of Azerbaijan seeks to present an image of prosperity, development and stability in the disputed area, at a time when its treatment of Armenians and Azerbaijani dissidents alike has garnered it bad press. These unsuspecting tourists have become another arm of the Azerbaijani propaganda machine, along with bribed international officials, corrupted politicians and a hyperactive bot army. 

Each trip follows the same format, which can be tracked through the Instagram stories the influencers share along the way. The most egregious part of the adventure, which is also one of its highlights, is a stop at a military base in Gubatly right along the Armenian border, where the travelers pose with all manner of weaponry and drive around in tanks. They are even given the chance to fire actual weapons at imagined enemies, most likely in the direction of the besieged Armenian population living just kilometers away. One particularly zealous tourist from Brazil even donned Azerbaijani military fatigues as he fired weapons for his Instagram story—all this less than three years after thousands of soldiers were killed in those very fields. 

Posted on Instagram, June 16, 2023 by @the_eternal_adventure_

Cocooned within the perceived safety of an official government trip, this ghoulish behavior is in fact by design. As pro-government Azerbaijani media reported last September, these trips are “of exceptional importance for promotion of the liberated territories [Karabakh] as part of ‘black [dark] tourism’”. Trips to the sites of tragedy and death, known as “dark tourism,” have become a source of big money in recent years. Despite its name, however, genuine “dark tourism” is not intended to be a celebration of war or morally dubious behavior, and one of the leading dark tourism websites has issued a warning that participation in these trips is not acceptable, as it violates the principles of dark tourism and “clearly serves the dictatorial state’s propaganda”. For Azerbaijan, it isn’t just an opportunity to spread propaganda, but also a means of advertising to attract future paying thrill-seeking tourists and boost its international image. Even more fraught is the fact that, judging from much of the social media content shared by attendees, they knew absolutely nothing about the conflict upon arrival. This puts them in a very vulnerable position, which is useful to their host’s designs but liable to backfire on the participants themselves. 

One of the influencers experienced this first-hand on June’s “Shusha-2023 Expedition” tour, done in partnership with the travel club MTP (Most Traveled People) and led by its founder Charles Veley. On July 21, South African traveler Petro Marais posted a video of herself from the month prior smiling and eating ice-cream at a “fully stocked supermarket” located in Shushi, while harrowing stories circulated of the empty supermarkets, widespread hunger, and even malnutrition-induced miscarriages affecting the Armenian population just down the hill from there. The video went viral, with journalist Lindsey Snell calling it “among the most repugnant things I’ve seen during Azerbaijan’s 7+ month blockade of Nagorno-Karabakh.” This is not to say Marais intended malice by her seemingly innocent story. She likely didn’t know about the ongoing blockade at all, and her hosts certainly wouldn’t have told her about it. Yet this is the kind of danger that influencers invite when they allow themselves to be lured by a free trip into becoming hapless tools of a propaganda machine. This lack of awareness not only compromises their integrity but also misleads their followers, undermining the credibility that influencers often strive to maintain.  

Another tactic seen in the social media videos is how ever-present Azerbaijani journalists ambush participants at inopportune times, creating an environment of pressure to speak about something the travelers have very little knowledge about. As one of the travelers described in an Instagram story early in the June trip, “We are being followed around all this week by local TV and media. They keep pulling all the foreigners for quick interviews, and it’s online within the hour. I’ve managed to avoid so far!” They did eventually get him, and he gave the press a very neutral response, which seemed to disappoint the journalist from her _expression_. The traveler tellingly captioned the video, “They want you to stick to a script…” The number of cameras following the participants at all times gave the trip the look and feel of a reality show rather than a vacation. These photos of Marais, shared by Snell, show her being interviewed by no less than six separate local outlets at once. During February’s tour, they went to the site of the government-sponsored protest that closed the Berdzor (Lachin) Corridor, to promote the false talking point that there was no blockade against Armenians. 

Some, like Marais, have learned the hard way that even if the Azerbaijani journalists do not get the ideal quote they want, that won’t stop them from making it up. In the wake of the backlash her posts received, she issued a statement about her trip to Azerbaijan, in which she made the following claims: 

“There is a video clip released by an Azerbaijani media outlet going around with a quote that has been falsely attributed to me. This is something I never said. I was not aware prior to attending the trip there would be cameras following me the entire trip. I was not paid to attend this tour however all expenses was [sic] covered. While I understand this is a propaganda tour to the region, I agreed since this is a unique opportunity to network with other travelers and to visit a place that is impossible to visit independently.” 

In light of the notoriety of Azerbaijan’s “caviar diplomacy” and the corruption of the Azerbaijani Laundromat, the claim “I wasn’t paid” has become a common defense among those who take such trips but do not feel they monetarily benefited from them. However, accepting a free trip, accommodations, and getting wined and dined along the way is still accepting a gift. Cash is not the only form of bribery. 

Posted on Instagram, June 2023 by @the_eternal_adventure

Even travelers who were careful not to get co-opted still managed to inadvertently promote Azerbaijani propaganda. The theme of reconstruction and the return of displaced Azerbaijani IDPs to the Karabakh region is a major component of the tours. Tours visit construction sites in the currently empty Armenian village of Talish, where new homes have been built to house Azerbaijani settlers to replace the native Armenian population. One traveler inadvertently promoted a narrative of Talish as a successful example of expedient construction to facilitate a “return,” when in fact what he was looking at was the result of ethnic cleansing by the very government that was hosting him. Further reiterating the Azerbaijani government’s stamp on the trip, it wrapped up with a special breakfast with President Aliyev’s assistant (and chief propagandist) Hikmet Hajiyev.   

While these free trips are still a relatively new phenomenon, the June trip was the seventh so far, Azerbaijan is aggressively pursuing more participants. As their true nature is exposed however, some travel groups are reconsidering the wisdom in partnering with Azerbaijan. Karabakh trips have been conducted in partnership with travel organizations such as ETIC (Extreme Traveler International Congress), TCC (Travelers’ Century Club), Nomadmania and MTP, which Azerbaijan relies upon to source its interested travelers. The May trip was done in partnership with the organization Club 100, after which it received negative press in Sweden. Club 100 chairperson Reine Larshans, who had not attended, told the Swedish outlet Blankspot, “I expect the [organization’s] board to distance itself from trips like this sponsored by a totalitarian regime which, to top it all off, are carried out in a war zone where the gunpowder smoke has hardly settled. All members can go wherever they want as private individuals, but if you make a trip in the name of the club, you must be careful and not allow yourself to be used for propaganda purposes.”

The Azerbaijani government’s attempts to organize all expenses paid trips for influencers to the disputed Nagorno-Karabakh region for propaganda purposes are loaded with ethical implications. By exploiting the influence and reach of social media personalities, the government seeks to shape international perceptions while sidestepping the complexities of the long-standing conflict. By going so far as to place the visiting influencers into the tanks and uniforms of the Azerbaijani forces, it symbolically enlists them in the cyberwar against Armenians while using their platforms and words to conceal ongoing atrocities. By ignoring the complex historical and geopolitical realities on the ground, and erasing the legitimate grievances and claims of the ethnic Armenian population in Nagorno-Karabakh, these influencers are not just accepting a free trip but doing active harm by deepening existing divisions and making the path to a peaceful resolution even more challenging. Ultimately, it is essential to advocate for transparency, accuracy and respect from influencers, tourists and travel organizations, making them aware of the damage they are doing by accepting these free trips, and instead foster an environment where unbiased and informed perspectives lead the way.

Bread bakery in Artsakh (Photo: David Ghahramanyan)

One night on Tumanyan Street in Stepanakert, as a long queue forms outside of a bakery, a man’s voice can be heard, announcing his position as the 445th in line to buy bread. 

Such scenes have become common in blockaded Artsakh. During the day the situation is even worse, as people have to wait in extreme heat conditions. Cases of fainting, especially among children and the elderly, have become frequent. In the morning, without having eaten breakfast, people stand in line under the sun for hours to take home a piece of bread. In the last 10 days, lines for bread have dramatically increased. There is a shortage of bread not only in Stepanakert, but across the regions. 

In an interview with Artsakh Public Television, Artsakh President Arayik Harutyunyan, while discussing the challenges arising from the inhuman blockade by Azerbaijan, said, “To put it simply, Artsakh is a large concentration camp where Azerbaijan is carrying out genocide.”

The blockade of Artsakh by Azerbaijan has been ongoing for nearly eight months. Starting on December 12, 2022, the Berdzor (Lachin) Corridor, the sole road connecting Artsakh to Armenia was closed by a group of Azerbaijanis under the guise of eco-activists. As a result, 120,000 citizens of Artsakh, including 30,000 children, have been left without essential goods and services, including food, medicine and fuel. The situation became more dire on June 15, when Azerbaijan closed the lifeline road to Red Cross and Russian peacekeeping vehicles delivering humanitarian aid. 

For Armenians, bread is a basic staple, based on traditions going back centuries and a lack of other food options. It is no coincidence that in Armenian, like in the Lord’s Prayer, “to eat bread” means to have food or consume a meal. “Seated/stuck on bread” refers to food or income. A good person is often described “as a human with bread.” 

The Armenian people even have a “national” Armenian bread, the flatbread called lavash, which is traditionally prepared according to a special protocol. The lavash kneader makes a cross on the dough, invoking Christianity, which Armenians were first to adopt as the national religion in the early fourth century. Per tradition, the dough is kneaded by the eldest woman of the house, the grandmother, who is assisted by the eldest daughter-in-law and neighboring women. Lavash is baked early in the morning, and the fire is lit at sunrise. The bakers praise the sun, a pre-Christian tradition, and offer good wishes. Negative and curse words are prohibited during lavash making. According to the ritual, no adult man should be near the clay oven, the tonir, otherwise the bread will fall apart. It’s the enduring ancient Armenian version of, “Men don’t belong in the kitchen.” 

Lavash has another important use – it can be stored for a long time. Stockpiling lavash has been a way to fight hunger. The famous local food jingalov hats carries that meaning. When there was nothing to eat, people made this flatbread stuffed with local greens.

Yet the humanitarian disaster in Artsakh has challenged gender roles. As the traditional breadwinners living under blockade, men have little means of making money, let alone buying anything with it. All grocery stores are empty, and bakeries have become the hottest spots in town, generating hours of lines. Standing in line is a struggle, but also a luxury, that not everyone can afford. Single, elderly, the sick or people with small children cannot stand in line for hours.

According to official data, the volume of bread production will decrease for another two-three days. Flour mills are producing flour from the harvested wheat, yet due to the rainfall and high humidity levels, the flour production process has slowed down and additional drying is necessary.

The long queues for bread are also caused by the fuel shortage. Since July 25, due to the lack of fuel stemming from Azerbaijan’s tightened blockade, city and inter-community transport has stopped operating. Bakers cannot deliver the bread to the shops, and people stand in queues in certain limited locations. 

The stress is not only on the buyers, but also the bakers and the resellers. 44-year-old Gayane Tadevosyan has her own shop. Since the beginning of the blockade, she has worked hard to ensure that there is no shortage of bread in the store. She is not giving up easily. Since there is no fuel, she has decided to deliver the bread from the bakery to the store with a makeshift cart standing in the yard.

Gayane Tadevosyan (Photo: Siranush Sargsyan)

Every night, Gayane stands in line for several hours in front of the bakery, so that when the neighbors come in the morning, there will be bread in the store. There used to be a note stuck on the wall of the shop, “There is always bread.” She has torn up that note. For three days now, Gayane has been going to the bakery on her own, standing in line and coming back empty-handed.

“I don’t get tired of working. I’m ready to stay up all night and bring bread, so that I can provide bread even to sick people and families with children,” says Gayane. She knows the residents of the neighborhood well and takes it seriously when those living in the neighborhood come and see the store empty. 

Like all Armenian women, Gayane used to have sweets for the guests, which she gave only to the children who entered the store. Today, its supply has also been exhausted. There are leftovers of non-essential economic goods on candy shelves. “The most difficult thing is rejecting children. I cry several times a day when a parent enters the store holding a child, and I can’t offer at least a piece of candy,” she says. Gayane says empty adult stomachs are not as bad as unfulfilled wishes of children. “You are powerless when you cannot fulfill even their smallest wishes,” she said.

Samvel, Gayane and Tatul Tadevosyan (Photo: Siranush Sargsyan)

Samvel Tadevosyan, Gayane’s husband, was wounded during the first Artsakh war, and their daughter’s husband was killed in the 2020 war. Her three-year-old granddaughter does not have a father. Now Gayane has not seen her granddaughter for eight months. She is in Vanadzor, Armenia, unable to return home. Although she misses her a lot, Gayane says she is happy that her granddaughter is at least in a safe place and doesn’t feel a craving for candy, let alone actual food.

Together with her husband, sister-in-law and son, Gayane and her family cultivate a vegetable garden and engage in rabbit breeding. Gayane also does cleaning. Her only son, Tatul, is now preparing to marry. They will not have a wedding, only a church ceremony and a small table offering what they have at home in their yard. Gayane considers marriage an important mission. “We don’t know how long we will live like this. The war is not over. The blockade is the continuation of the war. But life goes on, and that’s how we have to face this disaster,” says Gayane.

Gayane Tadevosyan with little Tatevik (Photo: Siranush Sargsyan)

During the Weekly’s conversation with Gayane, people constantly entered the store hoping to find bread. One of them was seven-year-old Tatevik. She already entered three grocery stores but did not find bread. When asked, “What is the blockade,” she answered directly: “The blockade is when there is no bread in the shops.” Tatevik did not say what she especially missed that her parents cannot find in stores. She only said that she wants bread to take home, so that her little brother does not go hungry. That’s her only dream these days.

“Youth Club Alliance” and “Artsakh Security and Development Front” implemented a volunteer initiative to deliver bread to the most needy. They recruited a group of volunteers, and with 10-15 volunteers a day, ages 14-20, they deliver black bread (specifically for diabetic patients) from bakeries on foot to stores where diabetic patients living in the neighborhood can have their daily bread, both in Stepanakert and on the outskirts of the city.

“In the last few days, when there was a shortage of bread, even this initiative stopped, but I hope that as soon as the shortage ends, we will continue to take bread to stores and to the needy, while the fuel problem is not solved and bread is not delivered to stores as it was before,” Gayane Sargsyan, one of the organizers of this initiative, told the Weekly.

Volunteers delivering bread (Photo: Old Hike)

Recently the Artsakh leadership declared a state of emergency, hoping that the international community would provide humanitarian assistance, as is done in the case of a natural disaster. 

Armenia was the first to respond to this declaration, sending a convoy of vehicles carrying humanitarian aid. The trucks were stopped at the Hakari bridge, as Azerbaijan prohibits the import of essential goods into Artsakh. Trucks loaded with 400 tons of long-awaited flour, vital medicines, baby food and other essentials have been stuck for two weeks in Kornidzor, the last town in Armenia at the entrance to the Berdzor Corridor.

While Russian peacekeepers are unable to lift the blockade, observers from Western countries and international organizations simply record this fact through statements. Meanwhile the queues in Stepanakert and the regions in front of bakeries stretch endlessly. As the blockade persists, the Armenians of Artsakh are left to fend for themselves, struggling to access basic necessities. Even the daily bread is becoming a wish that one can only pray for in Artsakh.