The Pashinyan Conundrum Predictably Unpredictable, Consistently Inconsistent
Onnik James Krikorian, a journalist and photojournalist from the UK currently based in Tbilisi, has covered the Karabakh conflict since 1994 and from 1998 to 2012 was based in Yerevan where he also covered the political situation in the country, including the bitterly contested 2008 presidential election. In the article below, published in the Baku Dialogues Journal of the Azerbaijan Diplomatic Academy, Krikorian expresses his own views on the current Armenia-Azerbaijan tensions and the ways to normalise ties.
Resolving the conflict in Karabakh requires a careful assessment of the roles of Russia, the EU, and the United States—states that have been involved as mediators, facilitators, and supporters of the peace process, respectively. Moscow believes two things: one, that the EU and the US are hoping to edge Russia out of the region; and two, that there is a particular interest in removing the Russian peacekeeping contingent from Karabakh when its first and possibly last five‑year term expires at the end of 2025.
Ultimately, finding a solution to the conflict over Karabakh and the broader Armenia‑Azerbaijan conflict will require a delicate balancing act among the various stakeholders involved with a focus on promoting peace, stability, and security in the region. But in the absence of such an environment, there are concerns that competition between the actors involved could disrupt what progress has reportedly been made to date.
Regardless of that rivalry, however, it should be remembered that any peace deal will be signed by the Armenian and Azerbaijani leaders—and nobody else. But here, too, the situation is unclear. Despite Azerbaijan’s decisive victory over Armenia in the 2020 Karabakh war, a final peace treaty remains elusive nearly two and a half years after the trilateral Armenia‑Azerbaijan‑Russia ceasefire statement was announced on 10 November 2020.
Progress and Delay
There are no implausible concerns that Yerevan is intent on delaying the signing of a peace agreement, while Baku is increasingly losing its patience. Nonetheless, in a 26 October 2022 address last year to the Armenian National Assembly, Prime Minister Nikol Pashinyan echoed words from Azerbaijani President Ilham Aliyev that a peace agreement could be signed by the end of the same year. Though many were sceptical, both announcements followed what appeared to be a productive meeting between the two leaders on 6 October 2022, which had been facilitated by European Council President Charles Michel at the European Political Community Summit in Prague.
In two meetings held that day, the three men were also joined by French President Emmanuel Macron to build on what appeared to be genuine momentum towards peace registered at an also seemingly productive meeting between Armenian Security Council Secretary Armen Grigoryan and Azerbaijan Presidential Advisor Hikmet Hajiyev in Washington on 27 September 2022. That date was also significant: it was the second anniversary of the outbreak of the 2020 Karabakh War.
Facilitated by US National Security Advisor Jake Sullivan, that meeting also highlighted serious American interest in directly participating in Armenia‑Azerbaijan negotiations. A further sign of this came on 7 November 2022, when Armenian and Azerbaijani delegations led by foreign ministers Ararat Mirzoyan and Jeyhun Bayramov were also held in Washington. The talks were both bilateral and trilateral, with the latter convened and facilitated by US Secretary of State Antony Blinken.
Blinken had also hosted Bayramov and Mirzoyan on the sidelines of the UN General Assembly's annual high‑level meeting on 19 September 2022 and the meetings culminating in the Prague Summit appeared to confirm that the U and the E.U. had identified a window of opportunity with Russia distracted in Ukraine. Time was also of the essence and all sides stressed the need to ‘expedite’ the negotiation process.
In March 2022, Azerbaijan had already made public its five‑point framework for the normalization of relations with Armenia to which Yerevan ostensibly responded favourably, though with one caveat: the issue of the rights and security of the ethnic‑Armenian population in Karabakh. This particular issue, incidentally, was discussed during the 27 September 2022 meeting in Washington.
According to a leaked summary, the discussion centred on the establishment of an “internationally visible” dialogue mechanism “without prejudice to Azerbaijan’s sovereignty.”
And prior to the Prague meeting, Mirzoyan and Bayramov also met in Geneva on 2 October 2022. Details from that meeting confirmed what had been apparently discussed at the 27 September 2022 meeting, including a dialogue mechanism, and Grigoryan confirmed those details in an interview the same month.
There was one bone of contention, however. Grigoryan’s claim that the talks in Washington included agreement on an internationally mediated rather than internationally visible discussion mechanism elicited a firm response from Hikmet Hajiyev, who flatly denied the possibility of such a format. His counterpart in the negotiations, (Grigoryan) did, however, confirm that any peace agreement would omit mention of Nagorno‑Karabakh as a separate entity and that it would be for Karabakh’s ethnic‑Armenian community to directly negotiate with Baku. This sparked outrage among the opposition in Armenia and the de facto authorities in Karabakh.
During another speech to the Armenian National Assembly in April 2022, Pashinyan had already irked both by claiming the international community was pressuring him to “lower the bar” on Karabakh’s status—a key issue. This was taken to mean that demands for independence would be dropped and that the negotiation process would diverge into two: Armenia‑Azerbaijan and Baku‑Karabakh, the latter of which would now become an internal matter for Azerbaijan.
This had arguably always been the most likely outcome of the 2020 Karabakh War, given that the seven formerly occupied regions of Azerbaijan surrounding the former Nagorno‑Karabakh Autonomous Oblast (NKAO) had been either taken back during the fighting or returned as part of the trilateral ceasefire statement. This has now left the ethnic‑Armenian Karabakh entity, whose boundaries now correspond to the zone within which the Russian peacekeepers operate, geographically isolated and connected to Armenia only via the 5-kilometre-wide Lachin Corridor, arguably putting to rest any realistic hopes for independence.
In layman’s terms, in the post‑2020 situation, it is difficult to imagine that the ethnic‑Armenian population of Karabakh can be self‑sufficient—it had always been reliant on Yerevan prior to 2020 anyway. In this new landscape, however, it will be increasingly reliant on nurturing good relations with Baku. All energy and natural resources such as water pass through territory now back under Azerbaijan’s control. This makes the need for dialogue between Baku and the Karabakh Armenians inevitable.
Pashinyan had also said the same on Armenian Public Television on 1 October 2020, claiming that he had discussed this with the de facto authorities in Karabakh and that they too had concluded that “Karabakh‑Azerbaijan dialogue is the right course.” With the possibility of Baku requesting the Russian peacekeeping contingent to leave Karabakh in 2025, thus likely returning the Lachin Corridor to Azerbaijani control, there were few other logical conclusions.
However, Pashinyan also said that it was necessary to deploy an international monitoring mission amid growing dissatisfaction with Moscow and the Collective Security Treaty Organization (CSTO) for what Yerevan considered an inadequate response to the 2020 Karabakh War. Incidents in the breakaway region itself, and subsequent military clashes in September 2022 on the Armenia‑Azerbaijan border, have only deepened such resentment.
This has likely only emboldened the West. Though Armenia has traditionally relied on Russia for its economic and military security, Pashinyan had been careful to tread a fine line between the West and Moscow after he came to power in 2018. By not responding to an offer to deploy a CSTO monitoring team in favour of an unarmed EU civilian mission, Pashinyan can now be seen to be clearly distancing Armenia from Russia.
The 40-personnel-strong European Union Monitoring Capacity (EUMCAP)—announced at the 6 October 2022 meeting in Prague—was deployed on 20 October 2022 and was made up of seconded monitors from the European Union Monitoring Mission (EUMM) in neighbouring Georgia. Temporary in nature, its term would last only two months, leading some Armenian analysts to suggest that its extension into a longer‑term and larger mission would allow Armenia to delay the signing of a peace deal.
It is unknown whether such calls influenced Pashinyan, but towards the end of December 2022, Armenian Foreign Minister Ararat Mirzoyan formally requested that a dedicated European Union Mission in Armenia (EUMA) replace EUMCAP. In February 2023, EUMA started its two‑year mission with an expanded but still unarmed civilian staff of around 100, which is composed of 50 actual monitors. Though only operating on the Armenian side of the (non‑delineated) border, Baku had nonetheless agreed to cooperate with EUMCAP whenever necessary, but it did not greet news of EUMA so calmly.
Russia reacted harshly too, with many again believing that Moscow could now seek to disrupt the delicate normalization process facilitated by Brussels in retaliation. Although the Charles Michel‑facilitated negotiations between Armenia and Azerbaijan started in December 2021—i.e., three months before the 24 February 2022 onset of the Russia‑Ukraine war—Moscow had since come to believe that it was being increasingly sidelined and that at stake were the Russian‑brokered trilateral November 2020 ceasefire and subsequent statements.
Indeed, by December 2022, any hopes of signing a peace treaty by the end of the year were disappearing fast. UN Assistant Secretary‑General for Europe, Central Asia and the Americas Miroslav Jenča told the UN Security Council on 20 December 2022 that renewed tensions between Armenia and Azerbaijan now threatened any “glimmer of hope” that had hitherto existed.
But it was not just Russia that frustrated the earlier momentum. The very presence of additional international and regional actors had already led to the phenomena of ‘forum shopping’—disrupting progress in one track by jumping to another if and when Yerevan and Baku saw it more favourable to their respective positions.
There were already indications of deepening disagreements between Yerevan and Baku in late November 2022 when Aliyev announced at a conference held at ADA University’s Institute for Development and Diplomacy in Baku that Pashinyan unexpectedly insisted on the presence of French President Emmanuel Macron at another Charles Michel‑facilitated trilateral meeting between the two leaders on 7 December 2022 in Brussels. Azerbaijan pulled out of the meeting as result, especially following what Baku considered to be ‘unacceptable’ comments made by Macron in an interview on French television aired just seven days after the Prague meetings had taken place.
The Pashinyan Factor
Indeed, and though putting to one side any issues with Baku’s position, it is essential to understand Pashinyan’s personality and character traits in order to ascertain how serious and ready he might be to sign a long overdue peace treaty. Prior to coming to power, the former journalist was known for being bold, confrontational, and unpredictable. His relationship with former leaders Robert Kocharyan and Serzh Sargsyan has been particularly volatile and has also shaped his modus operandi today.
Born in the scenic town of Ijevan in the Tavoush region of Armenia in 1975, Pashinyan represents a distinct change in the leadership of the country since the resignation of Levon Ter‑Petrosyan. While Kocharyan and Sargsyan were widely referred to as belonging to the “Karabakh Clan” of Armenian politics and were synonymous with authoritarianism, corruption, and falsified elections, Pashinyan was the first Armenian leader since the resumption of the country’s independence to have actually been born in the country.
Even Levon Ter‑Petrosyan had been born in Aleppo, Syria, in 1947 with his parents moving to Armenia two years later, while both Kocharyan and Sargsyan were born in Karabakh and climbed the ranks of the Communist Party—particularly the Komsomol youth organization—during the Soviet era.
They held prominent positions in the ethnic‑Armenian Karabakh entity during the early 1990s conflict, with Kocharyan eventually assuming the de facto presidency in 1994 and Sargsyan serving in several official positions within its defence structures.
Both men also moved to Armenia to serve under Ter‑Petrosyan, with Sargsyan becoming Minister of Defense, National Security Minister, and Minister of Interior in 1993, 1995, and 1996 respectively. Kocharyan moved to Armenia later and became the country’s prime minister in March 1997. The two Karabakhtsi joined forces with then Defense Minister Vazgen Sargsyan to oppose what is believed to have been a concessionary peace deal with Azerbaijan favoured by Ter‑Petrosyan.
In addition, Ter‑Petrosyan’s reputation was marred by the contentious 1996 presidential election that saw him secure a second term in office. Following the election, opposition supporters protested outside the Armenian National Assembly and forcibly entered the building. The resulting state of emergency led to the deployment of the army. These events tarnished Ter‑Petrosyan’s image and made him susceptible to the palace coup d’état orchestrated by Kocharyan and the two Sargsyans.
Ter‑Petrosyan’s fall from political grace has been a lesson in how the Karabakh issue can make or break Armenian leaders. Pashinyan is fully aware of this, and it probably explains why he surrounds himself only with absolute loyalists today.
After Ter‑Petrosyan stepped down in 1998, Kocharyan was elected president in March of the same year. There were questions about his eligibility to run, as candidates were supposed to have resided in Armenia for the previous ten years. However, many international observers overlooked this fact, hoping that the Karabakh hardliner would be more successful in negotiating a peace treaty than his predecessor.
Serzh Sargsyan became Kocharyan’s Chief of Staff and held various other positions in the Armenian government during this period—Defense Minister, National Security Council Secretary, and finally Prime Minister. Sargsyan would eventually become Kocharyan’s hand‑picked choice as successor when his second and constitutionally final presidential term would end in 2008. Both men were inseparable, with Sargsyan widely referred to as Armenia’s infamous “Grey Cardinal” who lurked in the shadows.
Upon coming to power, Kocharyan also lifted the ban on the Armenian Revolutionary Federation‑Dashnaktsutyun (ARF‑D). Ter‑Petrosyan had banned the nationalist party in December 1994, arresting many key figures for allegedly plotting a coup d’état and being prepared to engage in terrorism. The ARF‑D were to become Kocharyan’s main support base and eventually Pashinyan’s bitterest of political foes, especially following the 2020 Karabakh War.
It was within this context that Pashinyan became active under the Ter‑Petrosyan administration, founding the Oragir (Diary) newspaper that was particularly critical of Serzh Sargsyan. Indeed, in 1999, and already making a name for himself as a firebrand and risk‑taker, he was sentenced to one year in prison after refusing to pay a libel fine of approximately $25,000 for his articles alleging that Sargsyan was corrupt—especially through his association with Mikhail Baghdasarov, an oligarch who held lucrative monopolies on the import of fuel and aviation.
After this was commuted to a suspended sentence, Pashinyan founded the Haykakan Zhamanak newspaper. Although he resigned as editor when he entered parliament in 2017, the newspaper is still associated with him through his wife. It is noteworthy that in 2002, Haykakan Zhamanak republished Ter‑Petrosyan’s 1997 article “War or Peace,” which advocated for a concessionary agreement with Azerbaijan and the return of the seven regions surrounding the former NKAO, which were then under Armenian control. According to Ter‑Petrosyan, Armenia would not be able to maintain the status quo and would suffer economically and militarily for the perpetuation of such an approach.
Regardless, there was a predictable response to Pashinyan’s journalistic activities from the authorities and the corrupt network of oligarchs that flourished under Kocharyan. In November 2004, for example, Pashinyan’s car blew up in what he claims was an assassination attempt, or at least a warning from oligarch Gagik Tsarukyan, aka Dodi Gago (Stupid Gagik). This nonetheless did not prevent Pashinyan from forming ties with Tsarukyan during the later 2018 Velvet Revolution that swept him to power. Sometimes his allegiances or allies can also shift.
Pashinyan’s transformation into a politician, however, was not to occur until 2007 when he became a leading figure in the Alyentrank (Alternative) movement and contested the parliamentary election the same year as part of the Impeachment bloc. Failing to meet the five per cent threshold for representation in the Armenian National Assembly, Pashinyan attempted to stage street protests to contest the vote, but literally only a few hundred turned out in support.
In 2008, following Ter‑Petrosyan’s dramatic return to politics the previous year, Pashinyan again rose to prominence as a major figure in the first president’s re‑election campaign, which had one aim: to prevent Kocharyan from passing on power to Sargsyan. This was to have devastating consequences.
On 1 March 2008, when Armenian riot police dispersed a tent camp that had been erected in Yerevan’s Liberty Square following the disputed vote, Pashinyan took over the organization of the barricades that had been erected near the French embassy. A state of emergency was declared, and the army was called out. Ten people died. “We must liberate our city from the Karabakhtsi scum,” Pashinyan is alleged to have said to the demonstrators, presumably referring to Kocharyan and Sargsyan.
Pashinyan went into hiding and re‑appeared only in June 2009, at which point he was arrested. He was amnestied in May 2011 and the following year was elected to parliament as part of Ter‑Petrosyan’s Armenian National Congress (ANC) bloc, though he increasingly became critical of its leadership. As always, Pashinyan favoured a more confrontational and erratic approach than Ter‑Petrosyan and accused the former president of deceiving his own supporters.
By 2015, Pashinyan formed the Civil Contract political party—the party in power today—that had previously existed only as a political movement. Joining the “Way Out” electoral bloc, Pashinyan was elected to parliament in the 2017 elections, setting out to prevent what many had predicted would be Sargsyan’s attempt to become prime minister after his second and final presidential term came to an end. This was made possible because of the enactment of constitutional changes from a presidential to a parliamentary system of governance.
In what at the time seemed like a futile endeavour, Pashinyan embarked on a 200-kilometre march from Armenia’s second-largest city of Gyumri to Yerevan.
Pashinyan’s and his “My Step” alliance arrived in the Armenian capital on 13 April 2017, four days after Sargsyan announced that he would seek the premiership despite his earlier promises not to do so. Sargsyan was then elected by the Armenian National Assembly on 17 April. A campaign of civil disobedience that paralyzed and brought Yerevan to a standstill followed, while similar protests occurred nationwide on a scale never seen before.
Despite the naysayers, Pashinyan’s gamble appeared to be succeeding. Using his trademark populism and confrontational tactics, including a live televised meeting with Sargsyan at the Marriott Armenia hotel on Republic Square, Pashinyan demanded only that his archenemy resign as a way out of the crisis. True to form, there was no room for compromise in Pashinyan’s playbook.
In response, Sargsyan told Pashinyan, in what was clearly a threat of violence, that the opposition had failed to learn the lesson of 1 March 2008 before walking out of the meeting live on air. Pashinyan had again gambled and was detained by masked police in chaotic scenes on Republic Square just hours later.
The gamble, however, paid off.
Tens of thousands gathered in the square later the same evening and Pashinyan was released the following day when Sargsyan also resigned. The problem was, however, that Sargsyan’s Republican Party still controlled the parliament, and it would be they that would elect his replacement. Again using the politics of the street, Pashinyan called on his supporters to continue blocking traffic and to stage a general strike.
The tactic worked and Pashinyan was eventually elected prime minister on 8 May 2018.
But while many points to the perceived democratic nature of what has become known as the Velvet Revolution, there were also concerns that most outside observers ignored. Seeking to shore up support in Karabakh, Pashinyan travelled to the region the following day to mark Victory Day. This tendency towards populism, however, would partially contribute to the inevitability of the 2020 Karabakh War.
Indeed, during the Velvet Revolution there had already been signs of such manipulation of nationalist rhetoric, even though it appeared to contradict Pashinyan’s earlier position on the conflict. Not only had he donned a military‑style camouflage t‑shirt for the 2018 Velvet Revolution, but he had also grown a beard in an apparent attempt to resemble an Armenian fighter from the First Karabakh War.
And in August 2019, on another visit to Karabakh, Pashinyan declared “Artsakh is Armenia and that’s it.” Pashinyan had anyway declared on numerous occasions during the Velvet Revolution and afterwards that Karabakh would become “an inseparable part of the Republic of Armenia.” Though possibly intended for domestic political purposes, the interpretation of these words, as well as their ramifications in Azerbaijan, which had hoped that Pashinyan might finally be the one to sign a peace deal, was obvious.
And in another populist twist, Pashinyan’s Minister of Defense, David Tonoyan, even revealed a new defence policy doctrine of “new war for new territories” while Pashinyan also attended the inauguration of Karabakh’s new de facto president following its 2020 presidential elections, unrecognized by any country, including Armenia, and with the inauguration ceremony being held in Shusha. Of cultural significance to Azerbaijan, this was a provocative move that would have devastating ramifications later.
Adding to the slide towards war, a panel discussion between Azerbaijan President Ilham Aliyev and Pashinyan in February 2020 at the annual Munich Security Conference descended into a series of mutual recriminations. By the time of the July 2020 clashes on the Armenia‑Azerbaijan border, the road to war appeared to some observers to be irreversible.
In August 2020, for example, Pashinyan’s wife, Anna Hakobyan posed for controversial photographs dressed in military fatigues looking down the sights of a Kalashnikov rifle as part of her ill-thought-out “Women for Peace” initiative. And, in September 2020, just four days before the war broke out, Pashinyan confidant and Speaker of the Armenian National Assembly Alen Simonyan posted on social media a photograph of himself holding a pomegranate with the comment “Akna is my homeland.”
Akna is the Armenian nationalist name for Aghdam, the once bustling Azerbaijani market town that was razed to the ground after Armenian forces captured it in 1993. Some Armenian critics of Pashinyan’s circle believe that its trademark populism and risk‑taking had proven reckless and destructive.
Indeed, following his participation in the February 2020 debate at the Munich Security Conference, Pashinyan released a set of his own principles, known as the “Munich Principles,” which consisted of six points. These principles effectively dismissed the “Basic” or “Madrid” Principles of the OSCE Minsk Group, which had been at the core of all negotiations between Armenia and Azerbaijan since 2007. Additionally, in April 2020, Pashinyan also rejected a modified version of the 2015 “Lavrov Plan,” which itself had been a variation of the 2011 “Kazan Plan.”
Despite having effectively walked away from the OSCE Minsk Group, Pashinyan and other Armenian officials nonetheless continue to this day to raise its role following the country’s crushing defeat in the 2020 Karabakh War—even though the Ukraine‑Russia war had arguably proven to be the last nail in the coffin of the troika co‑chaired by France, Russia, and the United States.
Yet, despite this and the terms of the November 2020 trilateral ceasefire statement, Pashinyan managed to win snap elections called for 20 June 2021. A remarkable feat given the circumstances, Pashinyan had taken another risk and was only fortunate that his main opponents were those allied with or led by his old foes, Robert Kocharyan and Serzh Sargsyan.
Even so, some analysts contend that Pashinyan’s reelection granted him the legitimacy to engage in peace talks with Azerbaijan. However, others have noted that Pashinyan’s Civil Contract party still promoted the idea of remedial secession for Karabakh in its election manifesto while simultaneously advocating for a “peace agenda.” This inconsistency has become a trademark of Pashinyan’s leadership, with the ability to contradict himself sometimes even in the same sentence.
In April 2022, Pashinyan continued to be a master of populism even though he also admitted his responsibility for the 2020 Karabakh War. Other leaders might have lost power, but Pashinyan’s comments were taken in stride by most citizens of Armenian. His belief that the war could have been avoided had he returned to the seven previously occupied regions and that the international community expected Armenia to lower its demands on the region’s status was interpreted as a rejection of pursuing independence for Karabakh.
Except for one notable exception in the early part of 2023, Pashinyan’s language has also changed. No longer using “Artsakh” to refer to the breakaway region—a term that for some denote independence and also the inclusion of the seven formerly occupied regions—he now refers to “Mountainous Karabakh.”
Though still concerned that large‑scale protests might break out, the demonstrations that did occur following Pashinyan’s speech were relatively small. While some experts predicted that crowds of 50,000‑60,000 people would gather outside the National Assembly to unseat him, the protests that lasted for two months typically only drew 3,000‑5,000 people daily, with a maximum of 10,000 on two occasions.
A combination of fatigue and a feeling of hopelessness among the general population, as well as deep popular resentment towards Armenia’s second and third presidents, worked to his advantage. Even the 27 April 2022 hit‑and‑run killing by Pashinyan’s speeding motorcade of a 29‑year‑old expectant mother in Yerevan, who coincidentally worked in Karabakh, failed to ignite popular anger.
In addition, the anti‑Pashinyan protests held by activists in the Armenian diaspora did not gain any traction, with only a small number of supporters mostly affiliated with Dashnaktsutyun lobbying groups such as the Armenian National Committee of America (ANCA). Furthermore, the ongoing standoff on the Lachin Corridor that began on 12 December 2022 has also not sparked significant outrage in Armenia or the diaspora, despite Pashinyan’s apparent unwillingness to intervene.
The few demonstrations that occurred in Yerevan during this period were attended mainly by a few hundred Karabakh Armenians that were stranded or were studying in the capital.
Despite this, some analysts suggest that the protests on 14‑15 September 2022, which occurred during clashes on the Armenia‑Azerbaijan border resulting in over 300 deaths on both sides, were a warning sign. Spontaneous in nature at a time of intense fighting, the bulk of the crowds only dispersed once Pashinyan took to Facebook saying that there was no such deal on the table. Only the ARF‑D (again) remained on the streets.
But this was a warning to Pashinyan. Though the opposition remains marginalized and unpopular, the situation may yet change as time passes—if new leaders emerge ahead of upcoming parliamentary elections in 2026. According to a June 2022 survey conducted by the International Republican Institute (IRI), only 17 per cent of respondents in Armenia said they trusted Pashinyan. Though only 3 per cent said they trusted Kocharyan, a staggering 64 per cent said they trusted no leader in the country, leaving a vacuum that one day might be filled.
Other Concerns
There are other concerns too. Pashinyan’s pivot towards a more pro‑Western stance at the expense of the country’s longstanding ties with Moscow could create an opportunity for Russia to destabilize Armenia’s domestic political environment as the date of the next parliamentary election draws closer. However, following the perceived inaction of the Russian peacekeeping force on the Lachin highway and Russia’s posture during the 2020 Karabakh War, there has also been a reported increase in anti‑Russian sentiment in Armenia, limiting Moscow’s options.
But that is not to say that Russia does not have a way forward. Armenia is reliant on cheap energy from Russia and the economy is closely linked to it as a member of the Eurasian Economic Union. Many households in Armenia are also reliant on remittances from family members working in Russia. If Moscow wanted to tighten the screws on the Pashinyan government, it does possess some levers.
There is also the issue of Iran, which is admittedly not my area of specialization. Still, it is clear enough that relations with Iran have always been of importance to Armenia and the recent friction between Baku and Tehran has definitely emboldened Armenian nationalists and, possibly, the Armenian government, too. This increased in October 2022 when Iranian Foreign Minister Hossein Amir‑Abdollahian inaugurated a consulate in the southern Armenian city of Kapan.
Many took this as direct support for Armenia’s territorial integrity in light of what some claim is the threat by Baku of military action to force the opening of a route between Azerbaijan and its exclave of Nakhichevan, also known as the Zangezur Corridor, as stipulated by the November 2020 trilateral ceasefire statement. If such a route were opened, they charge, Armenia would be cut off from Iran, which is one of only two conduits for Yerevan to trade with the outside world.
Baku, however, denies such claims. It should be noted, in this context, that previous peace proposals have always featured such a route—most notably in 2001 when a system of overpasses was discussed at Key West so as not to block or interrupt Armenia’s direct access to its southern neighbour. Ironically, Russian FSB border guards continue to patrol that border, so it is questionable whether such fears are genuine, though some also allege that any tensions in the area could provide Moscow with a pretext to increase its presence.
However, it is unclear to what extent Armenia might be swayed by its trade and other relations with Iran, given that this also potentially runs counter to improving relations with the West. That said, neither the EU nor the US is willing nor able to provide Yerevan with hard security guarantees.
Prospects for Agreement
Meanwhile, surveys indicate that the overwhelming majority of Armenians firmly oppose the idea of Karabakh becoming part of Azerbaijan, even with an autonomous status, but it remains unclear whether the general public would again mobilize in protest if a settlement reinstating Azerbaijani control over the region were to be signed. At present, the only conceivable factor that could dissuade Pashinyan from signing a peace agreement in 2023 is the possibility that external actors and the EUMA presence will allow him to prolong negotiations.
Pashinyan appears particularly reluctant to grant Azerbaijan the “unimpeded” access to its exclave of Nakhichevan. His government is also opposed to any reference to a ‘corridor,’ despite Yerevan using the term for other transit projects running through its territory that do not imply any loss of sovereignty.
There is some reason to hope that Yerevan and Baku may reach an agreement, however, as Aliyev has stated since at least December 2021 that border and customs checks should be reciprocal. This means that if there are no checkpoints on Lachin, then there should be none on the Zangezur Corridor; or if there are checkpoints on the latter, then there should be on the former. However, Pashinyan seems hesitant to relinquish control over the Zangezur route to the Border Guard Service of the Russian FSB, as provided in the November 2020 trilateral ceasefire statement, and this is likely supported by Brussels and Washington.
Even so, Pashinyan continues to possess few viable mechanisms for further delay; even if he were to do this, then this would likely not be favourable for the Karabakh Armenians—especially as the future of the Russian peacekeeping contingent looks increasingly uncertain. Though the Karabakh entity hopes for a return to a new status quo, the situation on the ground is unfavourable for the ethnic‑Armenian population, to say the least.
Pashinyan may also be relying on the outcome of the upcoming Turkish elections in May 2023 to determine whether the normalization process between Ankara and Yerevan can be completed irrespective of completing a peace deal with Azerbaijan, leading to the establishment of diplomatic relations and the opening of the Armenia‑Türkiye land border. This has been a longstanding hope since the 2009 Zurich Protocols, which aimed to normalize relations with Türkiye and make signing a peace treaty with Azerbaijan less urgent by reducing Armenia’s geographical isolation in the region.
If that is the case, this too can be considered a gamble by Pashinyan. Though it is believed that a new government led by the current Turkish opposition would lead to less boisterous support for Azerbaijan, there is nothing to indicate that Ankara would forgo the core concerns of Baku in its dealings with Yerevan. Moreover, it could well be that a new Turkish government would have the normalization of relations low on its list of priorities, given so many other more pressing issues in a post‑Erdogan environment.
It is instructive to note in this context that even though Türkiye reversed the ban on direct trade with Armenia by allowing cargo flights since the first week of January 2023, none to date have actually been launched.
Confounding problems, and despite the deployment of EUMA, Russian Foreign Minister Sergey Lavrov on 20 March 2023 again raised the issue of a CSTO monitoring mission being dispatched to the Armenia‑Azerbaijan border in a meeting with his counterpart, Ararat Mirzoyan. The issue of how Karabakh’s ethnic‑Armenian population will be incorporated into Azerbaijan—and with what rights and guarantees—were also discussed. While the EU and the US seem more inclined to a quick solution to the problem so as to justify the withdrawal of Russian peacekeepers, Moscow seems to favour a more protracted settlement process, leading many to conclude that it is more interested in prolonging the conflict in order to keep boots on the ground.
Pashinyan has already gone on record as saying that this is the solution that Armenia favours, while also pursuing the Charles Michel‑facilitated process which, at the time of writing, appears stalled. Ultimately, and even though it will, of course, depend on Aliyev too, Pashinyan’s history makes it difficult to predict whether he will sign a peace deal or not—and also which one.
From a logical perspective, it appears unlikely that the deadlock between Armenia and Azerbaijan can continue beyond 2023, as time is running out. There are two main reasons for this. Firstly, there is uncertainty over when the Russian peacekeeping force will withdraw from the ethnic‑Armenian Karabakh entity in 2025. Secondly, Armenia is scheduled to hold parliamentary elections in 2026 (as noted above). This implies that any peace agreement reached after 2023 may not allow sufficient time for the Armenian populace to experience any concrete advantages before the next election cycle, during which the issue of Karabakh could be a delicate matter.
On the one hand, Pashinyan has good reasons to wait and see if Baku will soften its demands. On the other, delaying a resolution could have disastrous consequences not only for Armenia but also for the ethnic‑Armenian population in Karabakh. Currently, the Armenian narrative claims that Baku aims to “ethnically cleanse” the region, though this is more accurately characterized as depopulation. The problem with such existential narratives, however, is that they can sometimes become self‑fulfilling.
Even before 2020, both Armenia and the ethnic‑Armenian Karabakh entity faced severe demographic problems and, in the case of the latter, such a tendency can only but increase in the absence of a peace deal and the loss of any resources that it once possessed outside the former NKAO.
Regardless, while most observers see resolution only through the prism of regional and other international actors, it should be remembered that, at the end of the day, it still comes down to a decision by Armenia and Azerbaijan. In this context and given his tendency to change his opinion and allegiances unexpectedly, as efforts to end a conflict that has lasted over three decades continue, Pashinyan’s predictably unpredictable and consistently inconsistent approach remains the most difficult conundrum to decipher of all.