Armenian Prime Minister Nikol Pashinyan is having yet another meltdown. The “barbecue führer” has once again made absurd accusations against Azerbaijan. According to his latest delusional claims, Azerbaijan is allegedly holding “dozens of prisoners of war.” Moreover, he asserts that Azerbaijan “uses prohibited methods against Armenian prisoners and subjects them to torture.” As expected, he provided no evidence—nor is there likely to be any.
This is not the first time Pashinyan has made such outrageous statements. Previously, he attempted to claim that defendants at the so-called “Azerbaijani Nuremberg Trial” were being administered psychotropic drugs. It’s easy to understand why. The revelations of these defendants are truly unsettling—they behave in a predictable manner, begging for leniency and eagerly testifying against each other and, most notably, against Pashinyan himself. The first signs of such unease emerged at the very beginning of the trial, while procedural matters were being settled and the charges were formally presented. There was a brief sigh of relief in Yerevan, but now that the defendants have begun to testify, a new wave of fear has gripped the residents of 26 Marshal Baghramyan Avenue. And that is no surprise—just recall the recent confessions of Arayik Harutyunyan.
Portraying themselves as “peacemakers” has become a popular trend among Armenia’s top figures, including those currently sitting in the defendant’s chair at the “Azerbaijani Nuremberg Trial.” Recently, Arayik Harutyunyan, who formerly called himself the “president of Nagorno-Karabakh,” decided to present himself in this role. He has been claiming that he proposed writing a letter to Azerbaijani President Ilham Aliyev, urging him to stop the war, and that his initiative was supposedly supported by Arkadi Ghukasyan and Bako Sahakyan.
According to Harutyunyan, the last time he met with Sahakyan and Ghukasyan was on the evening of October 18, 2020. He says that the initiative was brought to the attention of Armenian Prime Minister and Supreme Commander Nikol Pashinyan. However, according to the defendant, Pashinyan held meetings with the opposition, consulted with everyone necessary, and then called Harutyunyan on the evening of October 19 with a simple message: the war would continue.
An interesting revelation, to say the least—especially considering the circumstances.
First, it is important to recall that Azerbaijani President Ilham Aliyev had repeatedly stated from the beginning that he was ready to halt the offensive and military operations as soon as Armenia provided a clear schedule for withdrawing its troops from occupied Azerbaijani territories. This was something Aliyev publicly reiterated in his addresses to the nation and in interviews—interviews that, without a doubt, were closely followed in Yerevan.
Now, Harutyunyan claims that he and his associates merely wanted to “stop the war,” without addressing the issue of troop withdrawal. In other words, their so-called “initiative” had no chance of success from the outset—if it even existed at all, which is highly doubtful. As Minval reported at the time, Armenian opposition parties, including the Armenian Revolutionary Federation (Dashnaktsutyun), the Heritage Party, the Republican Party, and others, demanded that Pashinyan “urgently create a headquarters for operational military-political management—a special state body empowered to make decisions, plan, and coordinate operations. To ensure effective defense, former and current presidents of Armenia and ‘Artsakh’ (quotation marks by Minval.az), as well as former prime ministers, foreign ministers, and defense ministers, should be involved.”
At the time, the President of Armenia was Armen Sarkissian, a representative of the “Karabakh clan.” Former Armenian presidents Robert Kocharyan and Serzh Sargsyan, as well as former defense ministers and “presidents of ‘Artsakh,'” were also from this same group. It was clear that certain circles in Armenia harbored hopes that bringing these figures back to power could recreate the military successes of the early 1990s.
Harutyunyan was apparently playing along with this team. But now, in court, he is desperately distancing himself from everything, trying to “flip-flop” and present himself alternately as a “victim” and a “peacemaker.” However, the court will undoubtedly take all of this into account. What’s more important is the broader context.
By October 18, it was already evident that Armenia was losing the war. On October 4, Azerbaijani forces had liberated Jabrayil from Armenian occupation. As the then-Armenian Chief of the General Staff Onik Gasparyan later admitted, the Armenian army had its “back broken.” On October 9, Azerbaijan liberated Hadrut—a key strategic point in the mountainous part of Karabakh. On October 17, Fuzuli was liberated, and on October 18, Azerbaijani forces reached the Khudaferin Bridge. The Azerbaijani army was systematically driving the occupying forces from its land.
No amount of military aid helped Armenia—neither the planes loaded with weapons, flown through Iran from Russia, nor the “volunteers” from the Armenian diaspora, nor the mercenaries brought from Syria via Russia’s Hmeimim base. Even the desperate shelling of Azerbaijani cities failed to break the Azerbaijani people’s resolve. By October 18, Armenia had repeatedly bombarded Ganja and Mingachevir, while Terter was under constant fire, yet Azerbaijan’s advance continued.
Moreover, by this point, Azerbaijan’s overwhelming military-technological superiority was indisputable. The Azerbaijani army was using state-of-the-art precision weapons that were a generation ahead of the equipment available to the Armenian forces. Desertion within the Armenian military had reached catastrophic levels. By then, it was the perfect moment for Yerevan to seek peace. Unsurprisingly, as Minval reported at the time, a growing number of Armenian military and political leaders were open to secret negotiations with Azerbaijan. However, as events unfolded, the “critical mass” of those advocating for peace was never reached, and Armenia ultimately surrendered only after Azerbaijan liberated Shusha, encircling a 25,000-strong Armenian military contingent and turning the war into an outright massacre.
But that moment was still in the future. At the time, Pashinyan—without a doubt—chose to continue the war. Why?
One plausible theory is that Armenia was still hoping to turn the tide, secure additional arms shipments and reinforcements, and achieve the objectives for which it had launched the “new war for new territories” on September 27, 2020: capturing Terter, Barda, Ganja, and Gabala; cutting off Azerbaijan’s strategic roads and pipelines; and reaching the Russian border. Yerevan had set its sights on an overly ambitious goal and clung to its dream of occupying new Azerbaijani territories. But that’s only part of the story.
There are strong indications that Armenia did not make the decision to start the war independently. The timing of its attempted territorial expansion—right before the launch of the Southern Gas Corridor in December 2020—suggests a broader geopolitical play. Armenia was likely fulfilling obligations to its backers, those who sent it arms shipments and whose interests were threatened by Azerbaijan’s independent gas exports through the corridor.
We won’t speculate on whether Pashinyan sought Moscow’s approval to end hostilities and was denied, nor will we dwell on the fact that on the night of November 10, the surrender of Armenia was signed live by Ilham Aliyev and Vladimir Putin, while Pashinyan was hiding somewhere in secret. The responsibility for starting and prolonging the war lies squarely with Armenia. Yerevan dreamed of repeating the 1990s conflict, only to realize too late that the price of those ambitions would be paid in graves at the Yerablur cemetery.
And even after the November 10, 2020, capitulation, common sense didn’t prevail—hence the need for counterterrorism operations in September 2023. The bigger question remains: has common sense finally taken hold in Armenia?
Pashinyan has every reason to be anxious about Harutyunyan’s revelations—especially since they are unlikely to be the last at the “Azerbaijani Nuremberg Tribunal,” which is only just beginning.
Nurani
Translated from minval.az
