During the meeting, Aliyev emphasized that the blame for the crash lies with representatives of the Russian Federation. He reiterated Azerbaijan’s demands: “We demand justice, we demand that those responsible are held accountable, we demand full transparency and humane treatment,” he stated.
The president noted that the tragedy could have been avoided if Grozny had promptly taken measures to close the airspace, if ground services had acted in accordance with regulations, and if there had been proper coordination between Russia’s military and civilian services. Aliyev also pointed out Russia’s attempts to introduce alternative explanations into the media, such as claims about “birds” or a “gas cylinder.”
As a result, Azerbaijan refused to allow the Interstate Aviation Committee (IAC) to decode the plane’s black boxes. In diplomatic terms, this refusal signifies a deep erosion of trust in Russia — an erosion that is, arguably, beyond repair.
Moreover, Russia has yet to acknowledge its responsibility for the crash. So far, only vague statements like “we regret this happened on our territory” have been made. To say this silence damages Russia’s own reputation — and increasingly so over time — would be an understatement.
Another troubling trend is emerging: a “ping-pong” blame game between Moscow and Grozny, with each side attempting to shift responsibility. On one hand, there are claims about “Chechen air defense systems,” while on the other, reassurances are given that such systems couldn’t exist independently, as they are part of a centralized network under Moscow’s control. The narrative implicating Chechnya appears aimed at framing Ramzan Kadyrov, despite assertions of “warm feelings” toward Azerbaijan from Grozny.
The most critical question remains unanswered: Who was in control of the Pantsir air defense system in Chechnya? Leaked information suggests that Russian officers were in charge, while counter-leaks attempt to place full responsibility on Chechnya.
Ramzan Kadyrov’s response raises further questions. While he did not issue an apology, he belatedly declared a day of mourning for the victims and offered financial compensation to Azerbaijan, which Baku declined. Adding to the controversy, Kadyrov hastily awarded his nephew for “commendable air defense operations” — a move that feels eerily familiar. This isn’t the first time such ambiguity has surrounded Russian military actions. The current situation with the Pantsirs mirrors the past controversy involving the Iskander missile system used in Shusha during the Nagorno-Karabakh conflict.
In September 2016, a military parade in Yerevan showcased Iskander missile systems painted in Armenian camouflage. However, the drivers operating the launchers, also dressed in Armenian uniforms, were unmistakably Slavic — an odd sight in mono-ethnic Armenia. Russian soldiers stationed at the Gyumri base later posted on social media about preparing the Iskanders for the parade. This raised questions in Azerbaijan: Were the Iskanders gifted to Armenia, or were they standard equipment of the Russian base? No clear answers were provided. During the 44-day war, Armenian officials revealed that Iskander missiles were fired at Shusha in the war’s final days.
On March 15, 2021, Azerbaijan’s ANAMA identified fragments of an Iskander-M missile — a system not authorized for export. Azerbaijan repeatedly demanded answers from Russia: Whose Iskanders were these? Who pressed the launch buttons? To this day, there has been no response.
The implications of such “grey areas” involving missile systems are severe for a country’s image, even if no one officially acknowledges them. The current ambiguity surrounding the Pantsirs — whether they are Russian, Chechen, or otherwise — evokes a sense of déjà vu. The role of Nikol Pashinyan in the Iskander controversy is now being reprised by Ramzan Kadyrov in the Pantsir debacle.
Once again, deliberate obfuscation prevents a clear answer to the question of who is responsible for launching the missile that targeted a civilian plane and for the subsequent actions that followed. The issue goes beyond technical mishandling; it reveals systemic failures requiring coordination from multiple actors.
Russia’s attempts to deflect responsibility with implausible explanations like “a gas cylinder exploded” or “bird strikes” echo its past tactics. However, such maneuvers are unlikely to work this time. The stakes are too high, and testing the resilience of Azerbaijani-Russian relations through missile strikes is a dangerous gamble.
Nurani
Translated from minval.az
