The Price of Peace: Armenia’s Impossible Choice Between Identity, Sovereignty, and Justice
By Jean-François Ratelle, University of Ottawa
March 2025 saw Armenia and Azerbaijan announce a major step towards normalization, raising the prospect of a near-term peace agreement. However, these post-2023 negotiations present Armenia with stark choices: potentially sacrificing national identity, sovereignty, or international justice access. With the pre-2020 status quo no longer viable, Armenia must confront compromises largely dictated by Azerbaijan, raising the crucial question of what will be lost and whether national unity can be maintained.
This white paper analyzes how Armenia’s weak negotiating position, regional isolation, and limited leverage hinder its pursuit of a just and lasting peace. It explores the impact of power imbalances in conflict resolution, the influence of external actors or the lack thereof in post-conflict stabilization, the crucial role of social reconciliation given the absence of international justice, and unresolved human rights issues within the peace process. The paper argues that international justice will likely be sacrificed in this process, potentially deepening generational trauma in Armenia, and risk perpetuating regional violence. Ultimately, the paper concludes that preserving Armenia’s absolute sovereignty is a critical redline for ensuring the nation’s survival.
The Peace Process: How to Ensure a Fair Settlement Facing Asymmetry
Since 1994, multilateral diplomacy—primarily through the OSCE Minsk Group—has failed to resolve the core issues of the region’s peace process. Weakened by escalating geopolitical rivalries and the influence of Russian imperialist policies in the former Soviet Union, the Minsk Group and the OSCE’s monitoring mission were unable to prevent outbreaks of violence between Armenia and Azerbaijan. This failure created an opportunity for Türkiye to expand its role in the conflict, providing political and military support to Azerbaijan and significantly shifting the balance of power.
Following the 2020 Second Karabakh War, multilateral efforts were largely supplanted by direct external mediation led by Russia, which yielded limited results. Although Moscow brokered a ceasefire and deployed a peacekeeping mission, it proved either unable or unwilling to prevent violations of Armenia’s sovereignty in 2022. The war fundamentally shifted the balance of power in Azerbaijan’s favour, a dynamic further reinforced after the one-day war in 2023.
In September 2023, Azerbaijan launched a new military offensive to retake the breakaway region of Nagorno-Karabakh, mainly populated by ethnic Armenians. Although in violation of the 2020 ceasefire, the operation was designed to take over the region while Russia remained bogged down in Ukraine and mainly uninterested in fulfilling its mandate as peace guarantors of the 2020 accords. After a swift Azerbaijani military victory over Armenian separatist forces in Nagorno-Karabakh, 120,000 ethnic Armenians fled, fearing for their lives. The scale and swiftness of this ethnic cleansing was reminiscent of what happened in former Yugoslavia in the 1990s.
Following Armenia’s military defeat and the failed ceasefire brokered by Russia, Türkiye’s growing influence, coupled with Azerbaijan’s military victory, marked the decline of multilateral diplomacy in the South Caucasus. As a result, both sides engaged in direct bilateral talks, sidelining previous mediation efforts and moving away from Russia’s self-interested approach to conflict resolution.
The negotiation process has been skewed by Azerbaijan’s dominant position in the conflict, a lack of external constraints, and the absence of a mutually hurting stalemate. This concept, defined by Zartmann (1985), describes a situation where neither side believes it can win the war, and further conflict would be unbearably harmful to all involved. Baku’s control of most negotiation leverage has led to relative intransigence in accepting compromise and negotiating in good faith. While Armenia has shown willingness to compromise on some maximalist demands regarding the status of Karabakh and transitional justice, Azerbaijan’s willingness to make concessions remains less apparent.
The burden of peace largely falls on Armenia. The country faces a difficult balancing act: its military exhaustion limits its leverage at the negotiating table, while internal political dynamics constrain its ability to accept a settlement perceived as a national defeat. Moreover, the progress of direct negotiations between Armenia and Türkiye is contingent on the results of bilateral discussions between Armenia and Azerbaijan. Türkiye’s prioritization of its support for Azerbaijan outweighs its need for a bilateral agreement with Armenia.
Rather than repeating the mistakes made after the 2018 revolution—when the government adopted a rigid stance and withdrew from the negotiation process (Grigoryan 2024)—Armenia appears to have adopted a proactive approach. This means defining its core priorities and determining what it is willing to compromise in this short but critical window of opportunity to establish peace with Azerbaijan. However, an important level of uncertainty continues to surround Azerbaijan’s willingness to commit to the peace accord.
In this context, a peace agreement that imposes minimal concessions on Azerbaijan—without external enforcement mechanisms or meaningful diplomatic costs—could severely undermine Armenia’s security, leaving it vulnerable to further coercion. Azerbaijan’s demands for extraterritorial rights over the Zangezur corridor directly challenge Armenia’s sovereignty and could serve as a Trojan horse, increasing Armenia’s vulnerability to Azerbaijan’s maximalist claims. Precedents for granting extraterritorial rights in post-conflict negotiations are extremely rare. The 1995 Dayton Accords included a territorial exchange to create the Goražde corridor, avoiding the need to grant extraterritorial rights. However, this exchange was part of a broader settlement based on territorial control established during the civil war. While Armenia has expressed willingness to honour its commitments under the 2020 ceasefire and has proposed a bilateral agreement on transportation through the Zangezur corridor, Azerbaijan has refused to grant reciprocal access to Nakhchivan. As a result, both sides have agreed to put negotiations over the corridor and its access on hold.

For some analysts, the delay to sign a peace treaty even after Armenia’s formal recognition of Azerbaijan territorial integrity underlines a careful approach seeking to avoid negative consequences of a premature peace treaty as observed with the Dayton and Minsk Accord. However, time does not play in Armenia’s favour; it only worsens Armenia’s bargaining position. While negotiating, Azerbaijan continues to implement a policy seeking to transform the Karabakh region and deconstruct previous administrative structures as well as targeting its cultural heritage. It seeks to eliminate the option of a return to the status quo ante bellum and de facto prevent the return of refugees in the absence of a de jure option.
Peace Accord and Enforcement: The Imperative of a Reliable Guarantor
Negotiations where one side holds all the leverage often lead to a victor’s peace. Without an external mediator or balancing force, the dominant party can push for maximalist and recurring demands—a pattern Azerbaijan has followed since September 2023. Azerbaijan’s insistence that Armenia amend its constitution exemplifies this growing pressure.
Even in the context of a prospective peace accord, with no significant international or domestic pressure, Azerbaijan can escalate its demands on Armenia with minimal political repercussions. In asymmetric negotiations, the more dominant party is often incentivized to renege on agreements and push for further concessions (Fearon 1996). In a victor’s peace, where there is no external pressure to curb maximalist demands, one of the few restraining factors is the recognition that excessive demands could backfire in the long run or that a mutually beneficial economic arrangement offers a more sustainable alternative.
More than mediation, this peace process requires external guarantors. Guarantors typically engage in conflict resolution when they have strategic incentives or significant stakes in the outcome. At present, no strong external guarantor is pressuring Azerbaijan to uphold any potential settlement with Armenia. The issue at hand in the South Caucasus is not necessarily security guarantees, as in Ukraine, but rather assurances that any bilateral agreement will be upheld by both parties, preventing negotiated compromises from becoming leverage for further demands.
Relying solely on good faith and trust often leads to disappointment, as seen in many post-Soviet peace processes. As seen in the cases of the Minsk Process and the Khasavyurt Accords, the absence of an external guarantor often benefits the stronger belligerent, allowing it to reshape the agreement, refuse to implement it, and escalate its demands while the weaker party bears the consequences.
Escalating demands from Ankara and Baku highlight that without a reliable enforcement mechanism, Armenia risks being in a weaker position if it proceeds with signing an agreement. The blockade of the Lachin Corridor exemplifies this risk. After the 2020 ceasefire, Azerbaijan imposed restrictions on the only road connecting Armenia to Nagorno-Karabakh, citing security concerns over alleged arms transfers. This move directly violated the Russian-brokered peace agreement and further infringed on the rights of the Armenian minority. The blockade effectively starved the Armenian population, depriving them of essential resources and threatening their survival in Karabakh for several months. It underscores the dangers of asymmetrical power dynamics between Armenia and Azerbaijan in the absence of a credible international guarantor. Russia has failed to enforce the ceasefire or uphold the 2020 agreement, leaving power politics as the primary driver of bilateral negotiations.
Even in a victorious scenario, such as in the First Chechen War, the absence of international support can hinder the consolidation of peace. Despite achieving a decisive military victory against the Russian Federation in 1996 and holding free and fair presidential elections in 1997, Chechnya struggled to implement political reforms and state-building measures due to its international isolation. While Russia reneged on its commitments under the Khasavyurt Accords, the international community failed to impose sanctions on Moscow. This lack of external support contributed to the rise of warlordism and laid the groundwork for the Second Chechen War. The EU monitoring mission in Armenia (EUMA) is a cautious first step, distancing external actors from purely geopolitical motives, unlike Russia’s role in the 2000s and especially after 2020. However, the recent agreement between the parties suggests a willingness to remove the mission. Long-lasting peace in protracted ethnic conflicts, such as in Northern Ireland, hinge on legal commitments to renounce violence. Given the geopolitical tensions in the South Caucasus, strong legal commitments may be the only viable path to achieving sustainable peace between Armenia and Azerbaijan. Armenia’s relative regional and international isolation heightens its vulnerability to Azerbaijan’s growing and maximalist demands, and the risk of Baku reneging on a peace treaty despite Armenia’s significant concessions.
Armenia at the Crossroads: Navigating Regional and Global Isolation
Russia’s inaction to protect Armenia in 2020 and its subsequent inability to fulfill its mandate as a peace guarantor has led to Armenia’s decision to sever its security ties with Russia and withdraw from the CSTO, ultimately creating an opportunity for Armenia to rethink its security strategy as a whole. Armenia’s recent pivot to the West places it in a precarious position as it seeks to challenge the victor’s peace imposed by Azerbaijan and its Turkish ally. Although its current isolation is not a permanent state but rather a transitional phase, it has complicated Armenia’s efforts to secure an international guarantor for a peace settlement.
In peace processes, isolation can be used to pressure states into renouncing revanchist demands, engaging in transitional justice, or joining negotiations as observers—such as Serbia in the early 2000s. However, Armenia’s situation is different. Its isolation benefits Azerbaijan, reinforcing its intransigent stance on peace, human rights, and Armenian sovereignty. Moreover, Armenia’s isolation encourages Azerbaijan’s territorial ambitions and reluctance to engage in a transitional justice process.
To mitigate its isolation, Armenia has leveraged its democratization process and pivot toward the EU as a signal of its intention to pursue strategic changes and its urgent need for international support in implementing the peace process. As Prime Minister Pashinyan framed it, peace and normalized relations with Türkiye and Azerbaijan are sine qua non conditions for a successful democratization process in Armenia. However, in the broader context of democratic backsliding in the United States, Pashinyan’s strategy of positioning Armenia as the new beacon of democracy in the South Caucasus could backfire in the coming years. He may ultimately face a difficult choice between aligning more closely with the EU or the U.S. in his bid for political backing. While democratic values present themselves as the moral choice, the more pressing survival imperative remains a firm and expedited commitment to a lasting peace settlement.
Armenia has also moved to strengthen its strategic partnerships, signing agreements with France in 2024 and with the United States and the Netherlands in 2025. France, in particular, has expanded its role in the South Caucasus, positioning itself as a key actor in providing Armenia with increased support and military cooperation. At the same time, Armenia should avoid overestimating the impact of its recent weapons procurement from France and India as a means of altering the current status quo. Weapon systems remain mostly defensive and do not represent a game-changer in terms of military parity with Azerbaijan. Previous miscalculations before the 2020 war have demonstrated the risks of adopting a hardline approach to peace settlements.
Overall, Armenia remains in a precarious position, where a military solution to its predicament is not foreseeable, and limited foreign support hinders its ability to re-establish a balance of power in the negotiation process.
Pathways to Peace: Leveraging Economic and Political Incentives for Win-Win Solutions
With limited external constraints, Baku’s uncompromising approach makes a balanced agreement increasingly difficult. The absence of a win-win peace scenario could become a source of future grievances, fueling deep-seated conflicts, as seen in the cases of Russia’s in Chechnya and in Georgia. Sustainable peace, however, requires both sides to be willing to compromise rather than escalating their demands.
Conflict resolution experiences highlight the critical role of economic and political incentives in fostering peace (Mansfield and Snyder 1995). Achieving historical justice and addressing deep-seated tensions are essential for peace, but sustainable peace also requires that all parties see it as a preferable alternative to continued violence—particularly in cases where local populations have been polarized and mobilized over long periods of time.
Win-win scenarios provide long-term solutions by fostering cooperation between warring factions. For such solutions to be viable, both sides must perceive the peace settlement as politically and economically beneficial for them rather than as a loss of something fundamental to their identity and interests. Shifting negotiations away from emotionally charged issues of identity, justice, and blame could create a more constructive path forward.
Economic cooperation, when framed as a fair and reciprocal partnership rather than a victory imposing dominance over the other, can serve as a foundation for trust-building and de-escalation. Additionally, emphasizing economic imperatives and tangible successes over nationalist narratives can help demobilize hardliners and foster a more pragmatic approach to peace.
The post-1945 German-French reconciliation, the 1998 Belfast Agreement, and peace settlements in the former Yugoslavia underscore the powerful role of economic incentives in fostering reconciliation. In the latter case, a combination of Serbia’s regional isolation and the European Union’s (EU) integration incentives facilitated the implementation of transitional justice. These factors encouraged warring parties to seek compromises, leading Serbia to rebuild its relationships with Kosovo and Croatia. For instance, the EU’s requirement for full cooperation with the International Criminal Tribunal for the Former Yugoslavia (ICTY) as a condition for accession played a crucial role in advancing the peace process. Each side recognized the necessity of setting aside historical grievances in pursuit of economic opportunities.
A mutually beneficial solution in the South Caucasus remains elusive. Few countries or international institutions currently possess the will to compel Azerbaijan to negotiate in good faith with Armenia. The European energy sector continues to rely on Azeri gas, often turning a blind eye to Baku’s role in circumventing energy sanctions on Russia. Unlike other regional actors, Azerbaijan is not seeking EU integration and instead prioritizes its relationships with Türkiye and, more recently, Central Asia. The peace corridor proposed by Armenia entitled the “Crossroad of Peace,” along with broader discussions on economic and logistical cooperation between Azerbaijan, Türkiye, Armenia, and Iran, present the most significant opportunity for an economic-driven peace process in the region. In the current bargaining context, Armenia perceives itself as facing significant sacrifices. However, framing the Zangezur corridor within a broader vision of regional economic integration—rather than as a unilateral loss—could help mitigate the perception of total defeat among the Armenian population.
Reframing the negotiation process around regional economic cooperation rather than the loss of Karabakh could help stabilize relations, despite decades of armed conflict. While the current outcome of recent wars is not what Armenia had hoped for, the country must navigate this suboptimal reality and focus on achievable, mutually beneficial goals. Concessions should not always be seen as historical defeats but rather as strategic steps toward a more stable and prosperous future.
The Peace Process and the Erosion of International Law
In March 2025, the two countries agreed to withdraw, dismiss, or settle their legal disputes in international courts, particularly at the International Court of Justice (ICJ). However, the agreement remains silent on alternative mechanisms for addressing international crimes committed over the past forty years of conflict. Nor does it provide a framework for societal reconciliation—a sine qua non for long-term peace.
Addressing international crimes committed by both sides over an extended period presents a significant challenge for peacebuilding and transitional justice. International justice and accountability for war crimes are often among the first concessions states make to secure a peace deal, as seen in Nicaragua, Cambodia, and Colombia. Conflict resolution literature suggests that while such compromises may facilitate agreements, they carry long-term consequences. For instance, blanket amnesties for crimes against humanity have shown limited effectiveness in sustaining lasting peace (Dancy 2018). The absence of transitional justice fosters generational trauma, erodes confidence in international law, and increases the likelihood of future conflicts. Addressing international crimes is therefore crucial to preventing cyclical violence, as demonstrated in Rwanda, Cambodia, and, to a lesser extent, the former Yugoslavia.
The ICJ is also currently reviewing potential war crimes committed during the 2020 War, including the destruction of Armenian cultural heritage as a possible crime against humanity, alongside a countersuit from Azerbaijan. However, Armenia’s international legal representative has resigned amid the impending agreement with Azerbaijan. In the present case, the ICJ has explicitly stated that it will restrict its inquiry to incidents occurring after September 1996, affecting Azerbaijan’s willingness to engage with international justice
Armenia also joined the International Criminal Court (ICC) in 2024, but the tribunal has yet to open an investigation into crimes committed in the recent conflicts. Largely due to a tacit agreement with Azerbaijan, Armenia has refrained from referring the 2023 one-day war, the blockade of the Lachin corridor, and the ongoing destruction of its cultural heritage in Nagorno-Karabakh to the ICC.
Since May 2022, Armenia has retroactively accepted the ICC’s jurisdiction, meaning crimes committed in Nagorno-Karabakh after that date could fall under its purview, provided certain legal conditions are met. Drawing a parallel to the procedure initiated regarding crimes against Rohingyas in Bangladesh in 2016 and 2017, the ICC could explore the situation in Nagorno-Karabakh despite the alleged crimes taking place within Azerbaijan’s internationally recognized borders. Even though Azerbaijan is not a party to the Rome Statute, ICC prosecutors could build a case by arguing that certain crimes, such as the deportations resulting in ethnic cleansing, had consequences that occurred within Armenia’s territory.
A growing opposition movement in Armenia and its diaspora has criticized the Armenian government for considering the withdrawal of its legal proceedings at the ICC and ICJ. Furthermore, in April 2024, an Armenian victims’ group petitioned the ICC prosecutor to investigate potential crimes against humanity and acts of genocide committed in Karabakh. The claim of genocide has also been raised in policy circles, notably by a former ICC prosecutor.
Unless the peace settlement ensures long-term stability and fosters a mutually beneficial partnership, sidelining justice may prove to be a short-term fix that exacerbates generational trauma and reignites tensions between the belligerents. Moreover, while the Armenian government and its negotiators may see the strategic value in compromising on international justice, such a decision risks further alienating the Armenian population—potentially undermining the very peace process it seeks to uphold.
Crimes Against Humanity in Nagorno-Karabakh: The Imperative for Action
The political and social costs of abandoning these cases appear significantly higher than Armenia’s formal recognition of Nagorno-Karabakh as sovereign Azerbaijani territory—a move that aligns with international law and does not impact the right of refugees to return. As the ICJ and other tribunals prepare to deliver historic rulings on the crime of aggression and genocide in three major cases—South Africa v. Israel, Ukraine v. Russian Federation, and The Gambia v. Myanmar (with seven states intervening)—Armenia’s decision to abandon legal proceedings may prove to be a costly choice in the long run.
Even if Armenia chooses not to pursue the case itself, ICC state parties such as Canada or France have the authority to refer the situation to the ICC prosecutor for investigation, as was done in Ukraine regarding war crimes committed by Russian Armed Forces. Furthermore, the ICC prosecutor can launch a proprio motu investigation if sufficient evidence exists that a crime under the court’s jurisdiction has been committed. Moreover, the Statute of the International Court of Justice permits state parties, under specific conditions, to institute legal proceedings concerning crimes perpetrated in armed conflicts, as demonstrated by South Africa’s application in relation to Israel’s conduct in Gaza.
For the moment, the international community has been cautious not to jeopardize the peace process by advocating for judicial accountability regarding crimes committed during the recent conflicts between Armenia and Azerbaijan. This restraint contrasts sharply with the approach taken in the case of Russia’s war against Ukraine. The Armenian government and the international community must be mindful not to sacrifice justice and human rights in pursuit of a temporary peace with Azerbaijan.
The Unclear Path to Social Reconciliation: Navigating the Challenges
The current peace negotiations and the March 2025 preliminary announcement on normalization remain vague on reconciliation and accountability mechanisms. This silence raises concerns about an Azeri-imposed peace process that lacks a formal approach to addressing international crimes or, at the very least, establishing a path forward to confront their impact on both civil societies. Social reconciliation does not necessarily require the establishment of an international tribunal. While the two countries have agreed to abandon legal proceedings, this should not mean abandoning the principle of accountability—especially in the context of a victor’s peace. Creating the conditions for sustainable peace and successful conflict resolution requires addressing generational trauma, myths, and historical distortions that perpetuate cycles of hatred. A genuine peace process should prioritize tackling the root causes of violence rather than merely addressing its symptoms, which result from ongoing negative interactions between the belligerents.
In the context of the South Caucasus peace process, it is essential for each party to adopt an introspective and analytical approach to the international crimes committed since 1988. An unfortunate tendency in peace settlements is often to focus on the most recent crimes and limit the historical period covered by transitional justice or social reconciliation mechanisms (Schabas 2006). However, in the case of Armenia and Azerbaijan, such a narrow approach risks perpetuating a cycle of hatred and grievances. For that reason, alternative approaches to international courts can provide the necessary flexibility, as international courts often face temporal limitations regarding the scope of their investigations, which ultimately feed into the cycle of grievances between parties.
While accountability mechanisms such as international tribunals and truth commissions are not always universally accepted by all parties in a conflict, they play a crucial role in bringing closure to victims and laying the groundwork for a shared historical narrative. The ICTY has been instrumental in addressing crimes committed in Bosnia-Herzegovina, particularly the Srebrenica genocide, by providing both a legal and historical framework for prosecuting atrocities under international law. The recognition of Srebrenica as genocide is now firmly established in international legal jurisprudence. Although political actors in Serbia and Bosnia-Herzegovina continue to contest this legal interpretation, the ICTY’s rulings have significantly shaped the historical narrative that international institutions continue to build upon.
Due to Azerbaijan’s prioritization of a victor’s peace and Armenia’s weak negotiating position, the peace process is ill-equipped to address social reconciliation, especially given the dismissal of cases in international courts. This relative absence of a transitional justice process led by international institutions, accountability mechanisms or mutual consent to address human rights violations remains one of the most significant obstacles to lasting peace. Combined with Azerbaijan’s unreliability as a partner, this lack of foresight regarding reconciliation in the peace accord increases the risk of future armed conflict.
How Unresolved Human Rights Issues Imperil the Peace Process
As the peace process appears to have entered its final stage, many human rights violations remain unaddressed, undermining once again the prospects for a lasting peace accord. For example, the status of Armenian prisoners of war in Azerbaijan and the grim conditions they face in captivity underscore how much remains to be done to achieve reconciliation and foster a cooperative environment based on the standards of international law.
In addition to the status of prisoners of war, many legal questions on the right to return of Armenian refugees, and Armenia’s cultural heritage remain unaddressed. Following its military victory, Azerbaijan’s lack of commitment to respecting fundamental principles of international human rights law in Nagorno-Karabakh casts a doubt on the sustainability of any peace accords.
Whereas the period between 1994 and 2023 was marked by a normative ambiguity between self-determination and territorial integrity, enabling each party to invoke international lawt, he right of return represents an inalienable right, and the protection of cultural heritage constitutes a legal obligation for Azerbaijan. The ICJ has provided a ruling affirming the right of safe return for Armenian refugees from the region “in a safe, unimpeded, and expeditious manner.”
Despite the ICJ’s ruling and the need for both sides to demonstrate a willingness to engage in good faith negotiations, Azerbaijan has effectively erased Armenian existence in Karabakh. The lack of a proactive approach to address the issue of lost properties and compensation further highlights Baku’s unwillingness to seriously consider its obligations under international law. On the contrary, Azerbaijan has introduced strategies to hinder or discourage the return of individuals including the destruction of Armenian cultural heritage.
Although it is not surprising that the right to a safe and sustainable return is not strictly enforced, what is striking is Azerbaijan’s ability to openly violate this right without facing any consequences. Warring parties are typically willing to recognize the right of return in peace settlements, while simultaneously creating conditions that prevent refugees from returning. For instance, the Dayton Accords, which aimed to address the aftermath of ethnic cleansing in Bosnia-Herzegovina and Croatia, established the framework for the right of return. However, the return of Serbs from Krajina and Bosnian Muslims from Eastern Bosnia-Herzegovina never materialized. Similarly, the issue of return for Palestinians following the Nakba highlights the difficulties in addressing the right to return during peace negotiations.
Reconciliation without a genuine process of return is likely to fail, leading to profound resentment as observed in Bosnia-Herzegovina and Kosovo in the 1990s and 2000s. As many Armenians point out, Artsakh is seen as a sacred part of their homeland and cultural identity. In such an emotionally-charged context, a failure to facilitate return almost guarantees profound generational trauma. Future generations may adopt this trauma as a defining part of their collective identity. Historical narratives and conflict understandings become centered around this trauma, making healing and peacebuilding particularly difficult, as seen in the aftermath of the 1944 Chechen deportation.
Cultural Heritage in Artsakh: An Ongoing Crime
Since its full occupation of Nagorno-Karabakh in 2023, Azerbaijan has destroyed entire villages, historical monuments, cemeteries, khachkars, churches, and other religious sites, as well as governmental and administrative buildings. So far, ACLED has provided one of the most comprehensive lists of such violations of international law through its interactive map and research report. These violations have continued throughout the negotiation process between the two countries, highlighting the difficulty of trusting Azerbaijan to uphold its commitments in any forthcoming peace settlement. They also underscore Azerbaijan’s disregard for its international obligations toward Armenians in Nagorno-Karabakh.
Although extensive cultural destruction is recognized as a crime against humanity under the Rome Statute, the Court would unfortunately not have jurisdiction on crimes committed in Azerbaijan. However, such crimes could be prosecuted under international jurisdiction as it was done for some crimes against humanity and war crimes committed in Syria.
More broadly, alongside the displacement of the Armenian population in September 2023, their inability to return to Nagorno-Karabakh, and the 10-month blockade of the Lachin Corridor, the destruction of Armenian cultural heritage in the region further reinforces claims of ethnic cleansing—a crime against humanity—committed by Azerbaijani forces. The destruction of Armenian cultural heritage in Azerbaijan could be used to support a legal argument of criminal intent behind the deportation.
While Armenia has the sovereign right to withdraw or refrain from pursuing international legal action against Azerbaijan, other countries are not bound by its decisions. On the contrary, international law may obligate them to explore alternative avenues for prosecuting such crimes. In this context, an international tribunal—or even a hybrid one—could be instrumental in documenting and establishing the historical record of this latest phase of the conflict. Overall, this situation as a whole undermines the implementation of a peace settlement, perpetuating the violation of international human rights law by one of the parties. Azerbaijan’s actions in Nagorno-Karabakh after 2023 cast serious doubt on its reliability as a negotiating partner and its willingness to uphold its obligations after the signing of a peace treaty. This issue underscores the critical importance of legal guarantees, or a third-party state acting as a guarantor, as well as the role of international law in the settlement of the conflict.
Conclusion
This white paper highlights the significant challenges Armenia faces in asymmetrical peace negotiations with Azerbaijan, where Azerbaijan’s dominant position allows it to dictate terms. The paper contends that Armenia is forced to make a painful choice between its sovereignty, identity, security, and the pursuit of international justice. Even if Armenia decides to make considerable sacrifices to achieve a peace agreement, Azerbaijan’s adherence to treaty obligations remains questionable given Armenia’s current regional and international isolation and overall geopolitical vulnerability.
The potential sacrifices of Nagorno-Karabakh and the abandonment of legal proceedings regarding crimes committed after 2020 are major concessions Armenia should only make if Azerbaijan demonstrates a firm commitment to the peace accord. Without international guarantors or significant international pressure, it seems improbable that Azerbaijan will moderate its recurring and expanding demands.
In any case, the current peace process is unlikely to succeed unless it establishes mutually beneficial conditions, including a genuine societal reconciliation process and a win-win economic framework for peace. As long as Azerbaijan interprets the negotiation for the Zangezur corridor through a geopolitical lens, the current process is more likely to be a temporary truce before future conflict rather than a sustainable plan for peace.
Without concrete mechanisms for social reconciliation integrated into the peace process to effectively address deep-seated mistrust and generational trauma, and compounded by the largely political nature of international legal proceedings, the peace process risks further alienating the civilian population on both sides, reinforcing generational traumas, and ultimately fueling a new cycle of violence.
Given the continued obstruction of the Armenian right to return to Karabakh and the ongoing destruction of their historical heritage, it is understandable that the Armenian population will harbor resentment toward their government for what they perceive as sacrifices on deeply emotional issues, and further animosity toward Azerbaijan
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