PSCRP-BESA Reports No 1, August 27, 2023
The military escalation that broke out in Karabakh in November 2020, fundamentally transformed the (geo)political configuration in the region. After the fall of 2020, the territory of the unrecognized “Artsakh” – “Nagorno-Karabakh Republic”, established in 1991 on part of the territory of Azerbaijan’s Nagorno-Karabakh Autonomous Republic, shrank almost fourfold. Azerbaijan has regained internationally recognized control of its lands and its refugees, who were forced out by the Armenians, began to return there. The authorities of Armenia, which has historically patronized the unrecognized enclave, are now actively preparing for a peaceful settlement. However, its conditions will now most likely not be drawn in Yerevan.
The issue of Karabakh, or “Artsakh” (however, the historical borders of these two entities do not fully coincide) is important not only for the geopolitical development of the Southern Caucasus. Historically, it was one of the pillars on which the modern Republic of Armenia was built. Indeed, without the expansionist ideology of Miatsum (“unification”) that emerged in 1988, independent Armenia would have looked very different. “Artsakh” became a universal “patriotic test” predetermining political and military careers. A significant part of the Armenian elite, including two presidents, was recruited from Stepanakert (or Khankendi, an old Azerbaijani name meaning “Khan’s village”), which also gave grounds to speak of the “Karabakhization” of Armenian politics. After 1999, the influence of the so-called “Karabakh clan” shaped the image of “Artsakh”, among some groups of citizens, as a source of internal problems for the republic.
The modern Republic of Armenia is just a small part of what the Armenians consider to be their territory. Therefore, there has always been a split in Armenian society and political circles between those who are ready to be content with “what is here and now” and those who want more. The latter care little about the current republic; they call it “the result of a Russian-Turkish conspiracy” and an “incomplete” statehood with only relative significance (Silaev and Fomin, 2018). To some extent, this is a dispute between “Don Quixotes” and “Sancho Panzas” – or between the fedayis (irregular military formations) and political pragmatics. The fedayi tradition goes back to the Dashnaks (the socialist militants) and counter-Osmani terrorism of the late 19th and early 20th centuries. It is the tradition of ill-famed Dro (Drastamat Kanayan) and Garegin Nzhdeh, which does not require any state to speak on behalf of the Nation. For the Nation, the state can easily be sacrificed.
This position was convincingly demonstrated in July 2016. At that time, after the failed (for Armenia) April escalation in “Artsakh”, militants of the Sasna Tsrer (“Daredevils of Sassoun”, after a medieval epic poem) group seized a police station, took hostages, and killed three police officers (leaving 26 wounded). They demanded the resignation of Serzh Sargsyan as president and the release of their leader, Zhirayr Sefilyan (a Lebanese-born militant well known for his anti-Israeli stance), who was arrested in June on suspicion of plotting a mutiny. Despite the blatant unlawfulness of this move, a broad coalition of public figures was formed to support and justify the action of the “daredevils.” This “coalition” included liberal NGOs, representatives of diasporas, and cultural elites (Silaev and Fomin, 2018), who explained their applause for Sasna Tser by the inability of the state to protect the people’s interests. In 2018, Sasna Tsrer formed a political party with the same name. However, this party failed in the parliamentary struggle – it received only 1.82% of the vote in 2018 and 1.49% in 2021. Armenians were ready to honor the “daredevils” as a symbol of popular resurgence rather than as part of “boring” politics.
Sasna Tsrer represents one of the ideological forces in Armenia that are not happy with any “concessions” to Azerbaijan. These are the fedayi “Don Quixotes,” supported by hard-right nationalists and spyurk (diaspora). However, they are not the ones who organized the mass protests (2020-2022) triggered by possible “concessions” (starting with the signing of the trilateral ceasefire agreement in November 2020). The main forces behind the protests are two blocks: Hayastan (“Armenia”), centered around the figure of Robert Kocharyan, a pro-Russian ex-president in 1998-2008, and Pativ unem dashink (“I Have Honor”), fronted by another ex-president, Serzh Sargsyan (2008-2018). Both alliances are thus formed not by reckless idealists, but by experienced and pragmatic professional politicians who are using the Karabakh issue to regain the political influence lost after the “Velvet Revolution” of 2018. (That said, Dashnaktsutyun, the oldest Armenian party of historically fedayi orientation, is still part of the Hayastan alliance, but more as a behind-the-scenes party). Another former president, Levon Ter-Petrosyan (1991-1998), is also critical of Pashinyan’s position, but he was also the first public Armenian leader to speak out about the impracticality of maximalist plans for Karabakh as early as the 1990s.
The protests have not yet led to any significant changes in Armenia’s political sphere. In April 2021, Nikol Pashinyan was forced to step down as prime minister but was re-elected in snap elections. In 2022, the results were even less impressive: after two months of rallies, protest leaders declared that they had failed to garner sufficient popular support. Indeed, both former presidents are sufficiently discredited to scare popular opinion away from the very idea of protesting under their banners. Moreover, they have no concrete and real alternative to Pashinyan’s policy: “united Armenia” is good, but how to achieve it? The developments in 2016-2022 have shown that the Armenian army is unlikely to win another full-scale military campaign against Azerbaijani forces. Moreover, in such a scenario, Armenia risks losing the border regions of Syunik and Gegharkunik as well – which is why Nikol Pashinyan now supports the 1991 Almaty declaration on the preservation of the former Soviet administrative borders. On April 18, 2023, he publicly emphasized the importance of the territorial integrity of both Azerbaijan and Armenia. This is indeed a case of “better half a loaf than none”: in August 2023, Azerbaijani state television showed a 35-minute film in which Armenia is “fading” from the map of the South Caucasus. This is a convincing demonstration, especially as hopes for Russian support are also fading, and have been since 2016.
Hence, it is obvious that the split in contemporary Armenian politics on the Karabakh issue is not so much about how to see “Armenia proper” but rather about “who rules” and “who is to blame.” It would be naïve to think that achieving some kind of peaceful solution in “Artsakh” is just the position of Pashinyan and his party, “Civil Contract.” Whoever is now the political leader of Armenia will be forced to make “concessions” to save the country from total ruin. The elites are quite pragmatic, and they acknowledge the inevitability of “losing” the enclave on Azerbaijani soil (if the current configuration of power is maintained). Probably, the same is also true of public opinion: after 35 years of conflict, Armenians are tired. Statistics show the opposite: both Caucasus Research Resource Center and Gallup International Association polls demonstrate the extreme unpopularity among Armenians of the “Azerbaijani” version of the future for “Artsakh”. However, as Sergey Markedonov (2022), a leading expert on the Caucasus region, correctly noted, there is a big difference between a declaration and its implementation. It is easy to declare the inviolability of one’s principles in a public talk, but not so easy on the battlefield.
Armenian politics now has a chance, at least partially, to return to the situation before 1988 and start from tabula rasa. The loss of the enclave in Karabakh may have dire consequences for public emotions. However, if properly negotiated, it can at the same time reduce the vulnerability of Armenia’s foreign policy positions and its dependence on external actors. Domestic politics could also be completely reconfigured: those who would be “blamed” would likely lose their influence, as would the army, which is now one of the constituting institutions in the state structure. Thus, a “Weimar Armenia”, rife with revanchist sentiments, does not look like an impossible option.
Dr. Petr Oskolkov is an affiliated researcher at the BESA Post-Soviet Conflicts Research Program (PSCRP) and a postdoctoral researcher at Ariel University of Samaria. His research focuses on ethnic politics, nationalist movements, and right-wing political parties.