Last month, Azerbaijan used force to seize control over Nagorno-Karabakh, a long-disputed ethnic Armenian enclave, displacing almost the entire Karabakh Armenian population. It might seem that their exodus has paved the way for a comprehensive peace deal between Azerbaijan and Armenia: after all, if the Armenian presence in the region is no longer a political factor, what is there to argue about? Yet Karabakh was not the only source of conflict between the two countries. Behind it loom other territorial disputes.
Before last month’s one-day war on September 19, the debate was over whether any agreement should be signed on Russia’s or Western terms. It is now clear that it will be neither. Instead, Azerbaijan will define its own terms, and decide where the treaty is signed.
This month, Armenian Prime Minister Nikol Pashinyan and Azerbaijani President Ilham Aliyev passed up two opportunities to negotiate a peace deal. The first was at a summit of European leaders on October 5 in Spain, where Pashinyan and Aliyev were expected to meet for the first time since last month’s one-day war.
Aliyev and Pashinyan had met twice before at the summit, both times in the presence of French President Emmanuel Macron and the president of the European Council, Charles Michel. This time, however, Aliyev chose not to attend. This was a demarche against Macron, whose pro-Armenian rhetoric has made him an undesirable interlocutor for Baku, and against the French government, which had discussed supplying Armenia with weapons following the one-day war.
Aliyev’s absence did not stop Pashinyan from going to Spain and signing a declaration recognizing the territorial integrity of Azerbaijan. He signed a similar document in Aliyev’s presence in Prague last year, but this time the text listed the area of Azerbaijan as 86,600 square kilometers: in other words, it included not only Karabakh, but also other enclaves that existed during the Soviet era.
A few days later, at the summit of the Commonwealth of Independent States (a loose grouping of nine former Soviet republics) in Bishkek, Kyrgyzstan, the roles were reversed: Aliyev attended, but Pashinyan did not. Nor was the Armenian foreign minister present for a meeting with his counterparts, sending a deputy in his place. This was a snub to Moscow, which had planned on organizing a meeting between the top Armenian and Azerbaijani diplomats. This was more in Russia’s interest than Azerbaijan’s, but Aliyev went along with it so he could once again accuse Armenia of sabotaging a peace deal.
Pashinyan and Aliyev can afford to be picky about which summits they attend, because the substance of a future peace treaty has already been decided by the events of September 19. The status of Karabakh—for so long a point of contention between Russian and Western mediators—is no longer in question.
According to Armenian estimates, there are only about forty Armenians left in Karabakh. Meanwhile, Baku says that ninety-eight Armenians have applied for documents that will enable them to be integrated into Azerbaijan.
The West continues to criticize Azerbaijan for using force and insists on the right of Armenians to return to their homes. But Baku remains in charge of the situation and can choose whichever mediator it likes. Instead of Russian and Western drafts of the treaty, there is now only one—Azerbaijan’s—irrespective of where it is signed. One option would be to sign it in neighboring Georgia, asserting the sovereignty of the Caucasus region and limiting the influence of outside players.
Another remaining question is the fate of Russian peacekeepers in Karabakh, who are currently shutting down one outpost after another. In Bishkek, Russian President Vladimir Putin implied they may yet stay. But it’s unclear why Baku would agree to such a concession, and, in any case, Pashinyan has said that Armenia won’t accept them on its territory.
Although the two countries’ leaders have foregone two opportunities to meet already, Pashinyan still estimates the probability of signing a deal by the end of the year at 70 percent: quite realistic, if expectations of the document are tempered.
The eagerly awaited peace treaty will almost certainly be nothing more than a framework, incapable of resolving all the disputes. Most likely, it will include the recognition of both sides’ territorial integrity based on a specific map, along with the renunciation of military force, the start of the border demarcation process, first steps toward establishing diplomatic relations, and a promise of the free transit of goods.
Armenia needs to sign such a treaty to at least reduce the possibility of border clashes, but quite how much this will help is a major question. Both parties know that the last shot on the Armenia-Azerbaijan border has not yet been fired. Baku insists on connecting Nakhichevan, its exclave that borders Armenia, Turkey, and Iran, to the rest of Azerbaijan. For now, Baku is unlikely to stage a full-scale invasion for this purpose, but skirmishes could lead to escalation and further concessions by Armenia.
Concessions will not only be necessary regarding Nakhichevan. In Soviet times, there were eight Azerbaijani enclaves in Armenia, and only one Armenian enclave in Azerbaijan. A simple swap, therefore, would be impossible. Moreover, seizing control over the enclaves of Yukhari Askipara and Barkhudarli would allow Azerbaijan to cut off the Yerevan-Tbilisi highway if it so desired. There are still plenty of challenges ahead, therefore: not only in defining and securing the enclaves, but also in providing access to them.
Nor is it clear how and by whom the Baku-Nakhichevan corridor would be operated. According to a joint statement made by Russia, Armenia, and Azerbaijan following the 2020 Azerbaijan-Armenia war, the corridor would be controlled by Russian border guards. But such an outcome is unlikely now that Russian peacekeepers are being withdrawn from Karabakh; the relationship between Yerevan and Moscow is at a nadir; and Baku is calling most of the shots.
Resolving these issues will take years and will depend on the shift of power dynamics in the region. For now, signing a rudimentary peace treaty that deters Azerbaijan from further escalation would be a good result for Armenia. Baku knows this, and will therefore try to squeeze everything it can from the situation before signing any such document.
Baku has all the tools for a new escalation. One is its claim of a “Western Azerbaijan” (i.e., parts of Armenia that were populated by Azeris in Soviet times). This notion features increasingly prominently in state media and Aliyev’s speeches. And while Armenia’s only leverage comes from external backers, Azerbaijan’s stems from the facts on the ground.
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