Fifteen years of the longest self-maintained ceasefire in the world offers an unusual opportunity to assess what has happened over this decade and a half and to consider what comes next.
There are two fundamental issues to consider. The first question is whether Armenians in Nagorno Karabakh (and in Armenia) are more secure today than we were when the war stopped. The second issue is what will happen in this no-peace, no-war situation?
On the critically important issue of security, it is true that this ceasefire has been surprisingly successful, and beyond occasional skirmishes, there have been no major incidents breaking the peace. The peace has largely been maintained on the line of contact, with some sporadic, low-key monitoring, and without the benefit of peacekeeping forces. This can’t be explained by simple goodwill or by the existence of ongoing negotiations. Those are quite encouraging explanations, but insufficient. We must also consider a number of factors as having been very useful in maintaining the ceasefire. An effective buffer zone, an equality in the balance of the opposing forces, the Azerbaijani army’s insufficient capacity to mount a serious strike – these play an important role in encouraging the sides to maintain the ceasefire. Of course the fact that these same parameters can, in fact most certainly will, change makes the situation fragile and serves as a reminder that a ceasefire is by nature only temporary.
That naturally leads to the second question: what is to happen to this no-peace, no-war situation. On the one hand, negotiations in various forms and formats have been ongoing for 15 years. The sides are at least talking. And, their statements do refer to the concept of compromise frequently enough that one can have cause for optimism.
On the other hand, these negotiations have gone on for a long, intense 15 years, with everything seemingly having been tried, with five serious proposals having been presented and rejected. In other words, there is no resolution in sight, and again, this is reminder that a no-peace, no-war situation is also by nature only temporary.
When one or both sides lose hope in the negotiations process simultaneously with a significant change in the parameters that have thus far maintained a balance, that is when the situation becomes dangerous for all.
Of course, the ultimate question is – What is the end game? What is the resolution?
There are three scenarios. One is the continuation of a sustainable status quo. The second is the eruption of war and a new situation on the ground. The third is a negotiated solution.
Although most in the international community, including the mediators and the observers will automatically reject the first scenario as unacceptable and unsustainable, this is not necessarily so. There are many historical examples when yesterday’s unrealistic alternative became today’s preferred realistic solution. In our case, we must not reject the possibility of the status quo being perceived as a solution.
The second scenario – war – is difficult to imagine, not just for all the expected reasons but because if the Azerbaijanis start a war, this will be the third time they will have tried, and they will be searching for a ‘final solution.’ I use this term consciously because only a ‘final solution’ type war will give the Azerbaijanis a victory. Therefore, war represents a great risk for Azerbaijan, greater than for the Armenian side.
And finally, there is the theoretically and truly more desirable third scenario – a negotiated solution. Let’s be realistic; this means producing a document that the sides have to sign. Such a document must include compromises.
Armenia’s diplomatic goal must be the third scenario. A lasting peace will come when each side acknowledges the other’s minimum requirements, not their minimum demands. Before this can happen, each side must achieve sufficient internal consensus on its bargaining position. This hasn’t happened yet. The bar that identifies our last line of compromise has to become very specific, and must ensure that from the moment that a document is signed until the time when all provisions are met, the security of Nagorno Karabakh and Armenia is assured, even guaranteed.
However, even as this diplomatic goal is being pursued, which I believe is Azerbaijan’s diplomatic objective as well, both sides have what negotiators call a BATNA – the best alternative to a negotiated agreement. For Azerbaijan, they believe their BATNA is war. Our BATNA is today’s status quo. In other words, avoiding war, we should utilize all other options available to us.
But while pursuing all other options, in trying to reach a lasting peace, the purpose of our diplomacy must also be to ensure that at any given time, our position is advantageous. This is our best defense against undesirable imposed solutions.
History is full of examples – including those of Kosovo and East Timor – when the international community resorted to imposing solutions based on the dominant thinking and approaches prevalent in the negotiations process at that time.
The two questions at the beginning of this article will remain key throughout the settlement process. Our answers will depend on how well we juggle quickly evolving international relations, radically changing global trends and disparate local political and economic realities.
The answers will also depend on the conflicting sides’ diplomatic approaches, convictions and capacity.