Truth behind 1994 Armenia-Azerbaijan ceasefire Former foreign minister debunks the myth

In a recent episode of Təmas Xətti (Contact Line) on İTV, former Azerbaijani Foreign Minister Hasan Hasanov shed light on a crucial episode in the country’s modern history — the May 1994 ceasefire that halted active hostilities in the First Karabakh War. His remarks put an end to the myth that the ceasefire was a “tripartite” agreement. He emphasised that the only valid document was the protocol signed between Azerbaijan’s Ministry of Defence and the Armenian side. Later, Yerevan attempted to promote a different version of events.

Hasanov provided a detailed explanation of what actually happened around the Bishkek Protocol. The text promoted by the Armenian side contained a clause calling for the deployment of peacekeeping forces — not under the auspices of the United Nations, but based on the Russian army. In form, they were “peacekeepers,” but in reality, it meant a Russian military contingent that would become the main force determining the situation on Azerbaijan’s territory.

Hasanov explained the logic behind Baku’s refusal: in 1994, the Azerbaijani army was still in the process of formation, state institutions had only just been established, and signing such a document would have effectively placed Azerbaijan under semi-official Russian control. This was precisely what Yerevan sought to achieve. Hasanov recalled that Armenia had twice raised the issue of deploying peacekeepers at the United Nations. The Bishkek proposal was merely a new version of the same idea — bringing Russian troops into Azerbaijan under the guise of “peacekeepers.”

When the Swedish representative — then-chairman of the OSCE Minsk Group, Jan Eliasson — arrived in Baku, he insisted that the situation needed to be stabilised and called for a ceasefire. Following this, a document was drafted in Baku and signed by two parties — the Ministry of Defence of Azerbaijan and the Armenian side. This protocol was handed over to Eliasson, and it became the basis for the ceasefire agreement.

Hasanov described in detail what was later circulated in Yerevan: they inserted the words “Nagorno-Karabakh” into a blank line in the document and began presenting it as a “tripartite agreement.” However, Azerbaijan never received such a version — there is no Azerbaijani signature on it, and therefore the paper has no legal validity. “We do not recognise it, because we simply do not have such a document,” Hasanov stressed. He added that Heydar Aliyev was firmly opposed to the deployment of peacekeepers on Azerbaijani territory.

Hasanov also elaborated on why UN resolutions began to be adopted only in 1993. Before that, the international community limited itself to statements. The shift toward binding resolutions became possible only after the occupation of territories outside the former Nagorno-Karabakh Autonomous Oblast — Lachin and Kalbajar. “That was when the world understood that the situation had changed,” he said. Russia attempted to postpone the vote until May in order to take control of the process under its own chairmanship, but the resolution (No. 822 of April 30, 1993) was nevertheless adopted. It marked the first diplomatic turning point.

A telling episode was Hasanov’s conversation with Boutros Boutros-Ghali, who at the time served as UN Secretary-General. Hasanov asked him why the reaction to the aggression against Azerbaijan was not the same as in the case of Iraq and Kuwait. The UN Secretary-General replied quite plainly: such an operation requires someone willing to take responsibility and provide funding — and Kuwait “financed everything itself.” In the Karabakh conflict, there was no such country. Against this backdrop, Hasanov drew a conclusion that today sounds like confirmation of a new reality: “Today, we have reached a point where we finance everything ourselves and stand behind it on our own.”

Another key theme was the shift in Moscow’s attitude. Before Heydar Aliyev’s return to power, relations, as Hasanov put it, were “at the level of hostility.” Russia had signed a strategic partnership agreement with Armenia and was supplying it with weapons. The situation began to change once Baku made it clear that cooperation was only possible with those who recognised Azerbaijan’s territorial integrity. It was in this context that Heydar Aliyev delivered a statement in parliament that became a foreign policy manifesto: “I believe that Azerbaijan is an independent state. It must never become a vassal or a colony. It must be open to all countries and follow the path of democratisation, political pluralism, and a market economy.”

Heydar Aliyev’s first visits to the West changed the attitude toward Azerbaijan. In France, a remark was made that Hasanov recalls word for word: “Earlier, we thought it would be best to make one decision that would put an end to the Politburo. Now, seeing you, we are glad we didn’t.” In London, British politician Decker expressed a similar sentiment: “We once thought it would be wonderful if all members of the Politburo disappeared. But seeing you now, I think — it’s good that not all of them did.”

The operation in Horadiz demonstrated that the Azerbaijani army was transforming. At the same time, Armenia blocked every possible path toward a settlement, insisting that “Karabakh representatives” be recognised as a separate party. Hasanov summed up Azerbaijan’s position succinctly: “We did everything we could to block any attempt to grant them legal status.”

Then came the Lisbon Declaration. Armenia vetoed every resolution, prompting Heydar Aliyev to declare that Azerbaijan would, in turn, veto all 28 decisions of the summit. The pressure on Aliyev was immense — including attempts to persuade him through U.S. Vice President Al Gore. But his response was open and firm: “We are dissatisfied with America.”

As a result, the presiding country, Finland, sent an official letter to the OSCE, confirming that a settlement was possible “only within the framework of Azerbaijan’s territorial integrity.” From that moment, Armenia found itself in a diplomatic deadlock.

At the same time, Azerbaijan’s energy strategy was taking shape. Russia attempted to derail the future “Contract of the Century,” claiming that Azerbaijan had “no such reserves” and that the legal status of the Caspian Sea was “undetermined.” Nevertheless, the contract was signed. Soon after came the decision on the Baku–Tbilisi–Ceyhan pipeline. Russia opposed it, but the international consortium approved the route. Hasanov emphasised that the architect of this strategy was Heydar Aliyev.

The conversation also touched on Azerbaijan’s internal crises of the early 1990s, a turbulent period marked by political instability and power struggles following the country’s independence from the Soviet Union. One key figure was Surat Huseynov, a former military officer who became a central political and military actor.  When the host asked whose “game” was behind the events surrounding Surat Huseynov, Hasanov replied: “Surat says it all himself in his speeches.” He then asked: “Turn off the camera. Turn it off,” and later: “Turn the camera back on,” after which the discussion continued without further details.

The finale addressed the myth that Levon Ter-Petrosyan was supposedly ready to sign a peace agreement. Hasanov reminded that the very next day he was out of power. Later, in Yerevan, people began saying: “The train has left.”

Hasanov emphasised that in 1994, Baku stopped the war not because anyone “persuaded” or “forced” it to do so. The ceasefire was the result of a political decision and diplomatic calculation. It was not a conceded “peace,” but a pause that Azerbaijan used to build its statehood, army, economy, foreign policy alliances, and energy projects.

In Yerevan, the hope had been different — that over the years, everything would be forgotten, and the occupation would become the “new normal,” eventually accepted by both Azerbaijan and the world. But history followed the Azerbaijani scenario. In 2020 and 2023, it was precisely the resilience that Baku had built after the 1994 agreement that enabled Azerbaijan to reclaim the occupied territories — just as independently as it had once decided to implement the ceasefire.

This moment marked the beginning of a new era: from a state that had survived war to a state that, decades later, restored its lands and reshaped the political map of the region.