Nagorno Karabakh: One Year After the Ethnic Cleansing

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Hayk Harutyunyan, a 22-year-old displaced photographer from Nagorno-Karabakh, holds the key to his house in Nagorno-Karabakh. A tattoo of the monument "We are our mountains," a symbol of Nagorno-Karabakh, can be seen on his arm. Credit: Gayane Yenokian/IPS.
  • by Nazenik Saroyan (yerevan, armenia)
  • Wednesday, September 18, 2024
  • Inter Press Service

YEREVAN, Armenia, Sep 18 (IPS) - It has been 12 months since Hayk Harutyunyan, a 22-year-old photographer from Nagorno-Karabakh, cleaned his house for the last time and closed the door behind him for good.

"Every morning, before I open my eyes, I imagine how wonderful it would be to wake up at home. But once again, I am not there…" Harutyunyan tells IPS in the park next to the apartment his family currently rents on the outskirts of Yerevan, the Armenian capital.

Hayk Harutyunyan is one among more than 100,000 Armenians forced to flee Nagorno-Karabakh following the last and definitive Azerbaijani offensive on 19 September 2023.

Also called Artsakh by its Armenian population, Nagorno-Karabakh was a self-proclaimed republic within Azerbaijan which had sought international recognition and independence since the dissolution of the Soviet Union in 1991.

Today, most of the Karabakh Armenians struggle to survive scattered throughout the Republic of Armenia. Others have chosen to emigrate to foreign countries.

"I still keep my house key in my wallet. I refuse to think I will never return, although I have no idea how or when," says the photographer. He also documents the situation of the displaced with his pictures. being both the reporter and the victim, he admits, can be too challenging.

A Legacy of Conflict

The younger generations have also inherited a decades-long war in this part of the world

After a 44-day war in 2020, Azerbaijan gained control of two-thirds of the territory then under Armenian control. Nagorno Karabakh also lost its direct land connection with Armenia.

The war ended with a peace agreement meddled by Moscow. Russian peacekeepers were deployed to ensure the safety of the Armenians still in the enclave. But it was not to be.

 Gaiane Yenokian/IPS. A displaced girl during the forced evacuation of Nagorno-Karabakh, in September 2023. According to the Armenian government, around 30,000 of the more than 100,000 refugees are minors. Credit: Gaiane Yenokian/IPS.

Last year´s offensive was launched after a brutal nine-month blockade by Azerbaijan, which closed the only road connecting Nagorno-Karabakh to Armenia and the outside world.

Hayk recalls those months during which he and the rest of the Armenians remaining in the enclave faced extreme shortages of food, medicine, electricity, fuel and other basic supplies.

"We could spend hours queuing for bread and even return home empty-handed, but at least we were there, we were at home…", blurts the young displaced. Crossing into Armenia, he recalls, was "like crossing a wall, leaving my soul behind and taking only my body."

Many displaced people came to Armenia, only to find housing prices very high due to an influx of relocates from countries like Russia, who moved to Armenia following the war in Ukraine. Artsakh people face these soaring costs and struggle to find affordable accommodations in an increasingly challenging market.

At 58, Ruzanna Baziyan, a Russian language teacher and a mother of four lives today with the memories of the land where she spent her entire life. She has a preschool-aged granddaughter. She says that the little girl revolts against reality in her own silent way.

"When we go shopping, she always chooses things that remind her of home, it´s either toys or a bicycle in the same colours and shape as she had in Stepanakert — the former capital of Nagorno-Karabakh— as if she were recreating parts of the life she left behind," Baziyan explains IPS from her apartment in Yerevan´s northeast.

"The girl even asked me if the birds had also left Stepanakert. It is as if she still cannot believe what has happened to us. She says she envies the birds," notes the Armenian woman.

Although Baziyan does not believe coexistence is possible, she is blunt about her people's will: "All Armenians want to live in their own homes. Most of them would gladly return if there were guarantees of safety and dignity, but not under Azerbaijani rule. We cannot face genocide in our own homes," she adds.

 Sona Hovsepyan/IPS. "Damn those who sell out Artsakh," read these banners during a demonstration in Yerevan last May. The displaced community is widely criticising the Armenian government's handling of the crisis. Credit: Sona Hovsepyan/IPS.

The Right to Return

Other than a deeply personal desire, the return of refugees and exiles is a right recognised in the Universal Declaration of Human Rights.

Two months after the mass displacement, the International Court of Justice (ICJ) ruled that Azerbaijan must ensure the "safe and unhindered return" of these displaced, and so did a European Parliament resolution adopted last March.

The Azerbaijani government has offered the Karabakh Armenians the chance to return to their homes on condition that they agree to live under Azerbaijani authority. The proposal, however, has consistently been rejected by both local leaders and the inhabitants of Karabakh even before the offensive caused their mass exodus.

Meanwhile, former residents of Nagorno-Karabakh watch helplessly on social media as Azerbaijanis loot their homes, vandalise their cemeteries and even destroy cultural heritage including medieval churches.

"Going back is simply impossible. If it were possible to live together, why would people abandon their homes, their land and their homeland in just a few days?" Gegham Stepanyan, Artsakh Ombudsman and member of the Committee for the Defense of Fundamental Rights of the People of Artsakh told IPS over the phone from Yerevan.

This lack of security guarantees has been corroborated by numerous reports from international NGOs such as Human Rights Watch and Amnesty International . During the 2020 war, they also raised concerns about attacks on civilians, violations of the laws of war, and the killing and mistreatment of prisoners of war and peaceful residents.

Similar violations were also reported during the 2023 lockdown.

On 2 September 2024, the International Association of Genocide Scholars —a US-based non-partisan organization— released a resolution condemning Azerbaijan's "genocidal actions" in Nagorno-Karabakh and calling on the international community to "recognise these atrocities, guarantee the right of Armenians to return to their homeland and ensure their security".

Azerbaijan is also under scrutiny for its handling of civil liberties, press freedom, political prisoners and human rights abuses, especially in conflict zones. However, the lack of security guarantees is seemingly not the only hurdle on the way back for the displaced.

"The right to return is directly related to the right to self-determination and it´s also enshrined in international law of nations. The people of Karabakh are no different, they also have this right," Stepanyan said.

His committee is working to create "a platform where possible solutions can be explored but he acknowledged that such a body does not yet exist, partly because Armenia has removed the issue from its negotiating agenda.

"The solution to this issue ultimately depends on the political will of international actors, some of whom are too focused on their own economic and financial interests in Azerbaijan," said Stepanyan.

Following the cuts in Russian gas supplies after the 2022 invasion of Ukraine, Europe has signed numerous energy agreements with Baku to guarantee supplies.

 Narine Karapetyan/IPS. Snezhana Tamrazyan, a 22-year-old displaced woman from Nagorno-Karabakh, at the Institute of Ancient Manuscripts in Yerevan. Karabakh people are forced to seek refuge in a country plagued by economic and political crises. Credit: Narine Karapetyan/IPS.

Struggle

After joining the miles-long caravan fleeing Nagorno Karabakh last year, 22-year-old law student Snezhana Tamrazyan took shelter in Kapan, 300 kilometres south of Yerevan.

"Living under Azerbaijani rule was never an option. It is not just dangerous, it is a matter of principles. Our struggle, the struggle of our parents, grandparents and our children was to keep Artsakh as Armenian territory. What was the point of it all then?" Tamrazyan tells IPS by telephone.

Like fellow displaced families from Karabakh, Snezhana´s also drags a story of war and expulsion. Her mother, she recalls, was the same age when she was displaced after a seven-day pogrom in Baku, the Azerbaijani capital, in 1990, which ended with the definitive expulsion of the Armenians from the Caspian city.

"We have gone through so much… How could I possibly live with those responsible for the deaths and suffering of our people?", says Snezhana, who recalls feeling "as a traitor" when she left the besieged enclave last year.

"Leaving my homeland behind was never my decision," she tells herself. "I was forced out. We were all forced out."

© Inter Press Service (2024) — All Rights ReservedOriginal source: Inter Press Service

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