Azerbaijan and the phantom logistics of "Rybar" How a fake is created out of thin air

In recent weeks, publications aimed at discrediting Azerbaijan as a whole and the national cargo aviation sector in particular have begun to reappear online. Allegations that have already been raised in the recent past are being presented again as supposedly “new information.” Although these “data” have long undergone professional verification and were clearly refuted, certain information platforms are attempting to reintroduce them into circulation—this time with a presentation that can mislead an unprepared reader, especially when it is delivered with confident intonation and phrasing that requires careful fact-checking.

At the heart of the current publications from the well-known Telegram channel Rybar—created by a person who, notably, previously worked within RT structures—is a story that first appeared in 2017. At that time, a Bulgarian journalist, Dilyana Gaytandzhieva, who allegedly specialised in investigative journalism, published a piece attempting to portray routine cargo flights of Silk Way Airlines as part of informal logistics operations. She relied on a set of fake documents taken out of context, as well as visual coincidences typical of any international aviation. Her conclusions quickly became the basis for dozens of secondary publications.

In 2017, Tim Stigal, linked to Unit 29155 of the Russian General Staff’s Main Directorate (formerly the GRU), created the Twitter account Anonymous Bulgaria, through which allegedly hacked correspondence from the Azerbaijani embassy was published. A few days later, Bulgarian journalist Dilyana Gaytandzhieva, brought in by Stigal to legitimise this leak, published an “investigation” in the Bulgarian daily Trud based on this “correspondence.”

The essence of the leak was the claim that the United States was supplying weapons to “terrorists” in Syria, supposedly transported by the Azerbaijani airline Silk Way. Notably, this was the only article published in English by Trud, suggesting its goal was to reach an international audience. However, subsequent expert checks showed that the “data” had no factual basis. The documents did not reflect the airline’s actual operations, and the conclusions drawn did not match the routes, nature of the shipments, or international civil aviation norms. Silk Way easily proved its non-involvement in any dubious shipments, and Gaytandzhieva was ultimately dismissed from the newspaper in disgrace.

It is precisely this narrative that Rybar is now attempting to revive. In its November 25 publication, the author puts forward the idea that Azerbaijan is allegedly involved in supplying weapons to Ukraine. The source cited is the Daily Express, a newspaper known for its sensationalist style. The version is built on assumptions about transit routes through Sudan, Türkiye, and Germany. Notably, the author himself admits that a key element of this story—the Su-22 aircraft—has long been out of service in Azerbaijan and is in a condition that prevents its operation. Despite this caveat, the topic remains in the text, serving as part of a general backdrop designed to create the impression that Azerbaijan is participating in schemes whose existence is not supported by any documentation.

In the December 3 publication, the author attempts to portray the ordinary flight geography of Azerbaijan’s cargo airline as evidence of hidden activity by Baku. He lists African countries (Sudan, the DRC, Sahel states) where Silk Way West Airlines aircraft have been observed in recent years and constructs from this an assumption of “shadow logistics.” In reality, cargo flights have long been part of international commerce, and Africa, the Middle East, and the Balkans represent major markets served by dozens of carriers. Routes are determined by demand, not political schemes. Yet in Rybar’s presentation, this routine practice is turned into an argument intended to be perceived as proof of covert operations.

Subsequent publications from this channel continue along the same line. The author attempts to link civilian flights with Turkish operations, and then connects certain flights to the arrival of new batches of weapons in Ukraine. The logical connection between these events is not shown—it is merely implied. This technique was also the basis of Dilyana Gaytandzhieva’s piece eight years ago. At that time, random coincidences were similarly combined into an overarching narrative without any supporting documents. Today, the same tired scheme persists: in the absence of direct evidence, readers are presented with an image meant to be perceived as a sufficient argument.

This is precisely the link between the 2017 publications and the current attempts to revive the story. The content has not changed. Only the packaging has. The substance remains the same. Where documents are required, photographs of aircraft at various airports are offered. Where verified logistics are needed, routes typical for any major cargo company are presented. Where data are necessary, assumptions are used. This is how a narrative is constructed that aims to hold attention not through evidence, but through the logic of speculation.

In reality, the activities of Azerbaijani carriers remain transparent. They are based on international contracts, civil aviation regulations, and commercial routes dictated by demand. This is the same model used by European, Middle Eastern, and Asian companies. It does not change based on how others attempt to interpret it.

The revival of old narratives is not due to new circumstances, but because these stories are convenient for informational pressure. They can be revived at any moment. They do not require a factual basis; they operate through associations. That is why it is important to explain each time what lies at their core. Once the structure of such publications becomes clear, their persuasiveness disappears.

And one key point is always overlooked: Azerbaijan’s official position on the Russia–Ukraine war remains unchanged and easily verifiable. From the outset of the conflict, official Baku has recognised Ukraine’s territorial integrity, maintained strict neutrality, refrained from participating in military operations, and does not supply weapons to either side. Everything else, as the saying goes, is misleading.