September 27, 2020. Early Sunday morning. A day that, according to Armenian strategists’ plans, was supposed to mark the start of “a new war for new territories.” A day when, in response to an Armenian attack, Azerbaijan exercised its right to self-defence and launched a counteroffensive that lasted 44 days and ended in a brilliant victory.
“Earlier this morning the armed forces of Armenia, using various types of weapons, including heavy artillery, shelled our settlements and military positions from several directions. As a result of the enemy shelling there are casualties and wounded among civilians and servicemen. May Allah rest the souls of our shahids! Their blood will not remain on the ground. The Azerbaijani army is currently returning fire and striking the enemy’s military positions, and as a result of these strikes a large part of the enemy’s military equipment has been destroyed,” — this is an excerpt from the address by President Ilham Aliyev delivered that day. The first day of the 44-day Patriotic War.
Scouts and military experts around the world are taught to look for signs of preparations for aggression. On the eve of the 44-day war, these signs from Armenia were noticeable not only to military experts and intelligence officers with access to classified information. As early as 2019, Armenia’s then-defence minister, David Tonoyan, promised “a new war for new territories.” Transport planes carrying weapons flew from Russia to Armenia. The ruling team in Yerevan invited obvious “hawks,” enthusiasts who spoke publicly about missile strikes on Baku, Ganja, Mingachevir… A “local militia” was announced in Armenia. The same dangerous trend was reflected in drunken dances on Jydyr-duzu and statements like “Karabakh is Armenia, period!” By autumn 2020, negotiations had effectively been sabotaged by Armenia. None of this could have escaped notice in Baku. Preparations were underway there too. Where intelligence earns its keep.
But here’s the point. Armenian commanders promised “a new war for new territories.” Yet they prepared for the old war — a replay of the fighting of the early 1990s. The territorial grabs of that era intoxicated them more than any drug. So much so that they drew no lessons even from the recapture of Laletape. Armenian headquarters did not expect to encounter on the front line a new Azerbaijani army — well-armed, well-trained and highly motivated.
Not only in Yerevan, but also in the capitals of Armenia’s patrons, such an army was not expected from us. They did not expect that Azerbaijan’s defence budget, at times exceeding the entire state budget of Armenia, would be spent not on generals’ dachas but on genuinely increasing combat readiness — on new weapons, exercises, and, finally, on improving service conditions for people in uniform. They did not expect that the new weapons were not for show, and that statements asserting Azerbaijan’s right to a military solution were not merely for “domestic consumption.” They did not expect that exercises would rehearse real combat scenarios. And, above all, they did not expect such determination and political will.
Then, in the last days of September 2020, even many experts who had drawn lessons from the April 2016 clashes believed: it will again be limited to a few days. In the worst case — a pinpoint operation and the capture of a couple of heights, as happened four years earlier. And then — new negotiations, visits by mediators from the Minsk Group, another round of settlement plans full of various dividends for the aggressors and separatists… Today the details of those plans are already leaking into the press, and the audience is, frankly, weary of what was proposed back then — after it had become clear that the conflict had a military resolution.
But those forecasts also collapsed. Under the leadership of its president, who would later prove to be a victorious commander-in-chief, Azerbaijan exercised its right to self-defence and launched a counteroffensive. Patience snapped. Yes, negotiations are better than war — but only when they actually work.
Azerbaijan did not intend to endure forever the occupation of its territories. Because international law and recognized borders had not been nullified. And because by that time there was a different Azerbaijan on the world map — scarcely resembling the country of the 1990s.
On that same September 27, closing his address, President Ilham Aliyev emphasized: “We are on the path of justice. Our cause is just. We will prevail! Karabakh is ours, Karabakh is Azerbaijan!”
What followed would shock the global expert community: how? How did they do it? There would be the incoherent babble of Armenian propaganda, which in the early days of the war promised that if not today, then tomorrow Armenian forces would take Ganja, the day after that “Gardman” would be under their control, and within a week Armenian generals would be sipping tea in Baku — yet later it had to concede the military defeat of its own country. There would be bewilderment among the “talking heads” on TV in many countries.
But then, in the early days of the war, queues formed outside military enlistment offices in Baku. The country became a united fist. We prepared to fight. We prepared to win. We knew we had no right to error, to hesitation, to emotion. We had to reclaim our lands. And we did it. Because Karabakh is Azerbaijan!
Nurani
