Stereotype Wonderland, and the Rubbish-Bin of History

One of the attractions of the Caucasus for anyone trying to make sense of security in the contemporary world is its marvellous complexity. South of the mountain chain, the three major ethnic groups bear cultures that at times display eerie similarities, even if they speak languages that are entirely unrelated. The emergence of Soviet Republics and nation-states has evened out the intricate, intermingled patchwork of ethnic settlement that characterised the Caucasus in the pre-modern period, and narrow nationalism has created and upheld an almost entirely fictional myth of historical-territorial homogeneity, one that does much to drive regional conflict. In Armenia, it is anathema today to admit that at the beginning of the 20^th century, the Azeris formed a plurality in the province of Erevan. Conversely, Azeris don’t like to be reminded of the fact that a majority of Nakhichevan’s population was Armenian at the beginning of the Soviet period, not to mention the demographics of Karabakh. Georgian nationalists, finally, bristle at the suggestion that ¾ of Tbilisi’s population was ethnic Armenian at the end of the 18^th century, or that the Azeri majority in Kvemo-Kartli might be anything except a result of foreign intrusion.

An idealised image has emerged of homogenous, nation-state like entities that were, supposedly, the forerunners of Armenia, Azerbaijan and Georgia. The real tragedy is that these ideas have translated into territorial identities that overlap to a great degree: with millennia of history to trudge over, each group takes a historical best-case scenario and translates it into a territorial idea that overlaps with the neighbour’s. To Georgian nationalists, their historical territory is Georgia under David the Builder, or perhaps even Queen Tamar – incorporating large tracts of today’s Armenia, Azerbaijan and Turkey. To Armenian nationalists, the historical ideal is that of pre-Christian, Artaxiad Armenia – reaching from the Southern shores of the Caspian, and deep into Eastern Anatolia. To Azeri nationalists, it seems any region ruled by a Turkic-Muslim khan at some point in the last few centuries qualifies as historical “Azerbaijan”. Especially when it comes to historical borderlands – like Javakheti and South Ossetia – the wonderful thing for nationalist historiographers is that they can never be wrong: pick the right period and you’ll find that this or that territory ‘belongs’ to the ‘right’ ethnic group – your own.

While a just tiny – and slightly deranged - minority in each of these states seriously considers restoring these territories, the way they have been integrated into the local historical narratives nevertheless serves to exacerbate conflict and distrust. In Georgia, the image schoolchildren often receive in their history lessons is that of the gradual decline of Tamar’s unified Georgian kingdom under constant Muslim attack, and large-scale immigration – in places like Ossetia and Javakheti. In Armenia, the main story is one of a thousand-year Turkic encroachment into historical territories following the fall of Ani, culminating in the 1915 Genocide. In Azerbaijan, Armenians are routinely depicted as foreign intruders into the Southern Caucasus, cunningly chipping away at Azeri lands by abusing their presumed hosts’ hospitality. With each nationalist narrative expanding historical territory to the maximum extent possible, the principal (and inevitable) lesson one gains from this is one of territorial loss at the hands of one’s neighbours.

Added to this paranoia-generating view of history, are the many stereotypes that infest all societies in the region. In short, Georgians see Armenians as cunning, uncouth, unreliable (pro-Russian!), materialist crooks, while Armenians hate them right back by describing them as lazy, pompous, unreliable (pro-Turkish!), ostentatious, rash good-for-nothings with a penchant for elaborate banquets and long toasts. To Armenians, Azeris are axe-wielding barbarian baby-killers from Mongolia whose only mission in life is to conquer Armenian lands, while to the Azeris, the Armenians are a bunch of lying psychopaths with an innate, sadistic fondness for terrorism and a masochistic obsession with supposedly invented Genocides. To each of the ethnic groups, the other is, moreover, absolutely uncultured. “They don’t have a culture of their own, they stole it [our music, our food, our poetry, our architecture...] from us” is something you hear everywhere in the Caucasus. Depressingly, what sounds as a grotesque caricature is, actually, far too close to the truth for comfort. These stereotypes appear and reappear in local discourse, over and over again, in different guises, refined and recycled by people of authority – politicians, “social scientists”, “historians”, “artists”. Only in a few (very few) enlightened places does it dawn on people that the similarities in their cultures – rather than being the result of cultural kleptomania on the others’ part – might be the result of centuries of symbiosis.

Where does all this bigotry come from? It is quite clear by now that the story of ‘ancient tribal hatreds’ doesn’t measure up, either in the Balkans or in the former Soviet Union. The nationalisms we see in the Caucasus today are a product of modernity; and part of the problem is that modernity was introduced into the Southern Caucasus, for the most part, by a totalitarian entity called the Soviet Union. As formerly agrarian societies industrialised and urbanised, Georgians, Azeris and Armenians were subjected to the vagaries – and contradictions – inherent in Soviet nationalities policy. And the Soviets, as is commonly known, had a very essentialised view of ethnicity; idiotic concepts like ‘national character’, ‘national psychology’, or even the particularly fascistoid ‘national gene-pool’ ("genofond") are still used in these societies today as reminders of a uni-dimensional, totalitarian mindset. Historiography and ethnography were – like any other ideological endeavour – state monopolies, and historians in various republics thus sought to construct orthodox histories that, on the one hand, conformed to Soviet ideology, and, on the other hand, reinforced their respective Republics’ claim to historical territory and an artificially distilled, processed and essentialised ‘national culture’.

The Soviet Union aimed at producing republican cultures that were ‘national in form, and socialist in content’; instead it produced national cultures that were totalitarian in form, and incompatible in content. As long as universalist Communism was the official state ideology, the long-term goal of constructing a ‘homo sovieticus’ did act as something of an integrating counter-balance to these narrow nationalist narratives. Exit the Soviet Union, and the result was an orgy of nationalist historical revisionism – still within that old Soviet totalitarian mindset, but with an even more exclusivist, chauvinist and parochial outlook. Why is one surprised, then, when Armenian politicians describe Armenians and Azeris as “genetically incompatible”, or when their Azeri counterparts coolly suggest the Armenian minority in Karabakh should just pack up and leave if it doesn’t want to be included in Azerbaijan? Or when regional historians produce histories that systematically maximise their own suffering, while minimising the pain of others? Or, most absurdly, even deny the very existence of the other side?

Ultimately, it is up to the Southern Caucasian societies to decide on whether to continue down that self-destructive path of mutual recrimination, consigning themselves to the status of small, miserable and endlessly bickering tribes. The alternative is to listen to those who advocate an alternative view that rejects a black and white vision of the region in favour of colour and complexity - and, luckily enough, those voices do exist in Georgia, Armenia and Azerbaijan. They should be encouraged by a West that has, in the name of 'national sensitivities', so far been much too tolerant of the garbage produced by some local 'historians', commentators and 'political scientists' pandering to the nationalist orthodoxies advocated by their respective regimes. Propaganda masquerading as history, and bigotry packaged as policy, should be confined to the rubbish-bin of history through relentless critique, and, where necessary, ridicule.

Killing the Messenger.....(2)

As I said in the previous post on Harut Sassounian’s article, it would be rash and unfair to reject out of hand the recommendations made by the International Crisis Group in its recent report on the Armenian-Turkish rapprochement. The ICG is among those think-tanks with a proven track record in studying security and conflict in the Caucasus, and what this Brussels-based organisation says should be taken seriously instead of being approached with emotional bluster and an a priori reference to its Turkish connections. This does not imply, however, that the substance of its report is beyond criticism – far from it. For while the overall content of the report presents a positive contribution to the complex puzzle of Turkish-Armenian relations, it nevertheless displays deficiencies that cannot be ignored and must be substantively addressed.

Looking at the recommendations themselves (those to the Turkish and Armenian sides), one is struck by their apparent (? - see below) symmetry – they mirror each other almost perfectly. For every demand to the Turkish side, there is one for the Armenian side. The document proposes a series of practical steps aimed at increasing trust between both sides. It asks both governments to prepare public opinion for a normalisation and to cultivate pro-settlement constituencies in the other’s society. Turkey is asked not to penalise Armenia for third-party statements on the genocide; Armenia is requested to avoid statements and international actions that might inflame Turkish public opinion. While Turkey is urged to decouple the Karabakh issue from the normalisation process, Armenia is asked to work towards a resolution of the conflict, including a withdrawal from the occupied territories. Yerevan is also urged to recognise the Kars treaty, while Ankara is asked to do more to preserve the Armenian heritage on its territory, for instance, by co-operating with its neighbour in the preservation of Ani. Finally, both sides are urged start joint studies of their shared history (particularly around 1915), to open their archives, and modernise their textbooks.

The outrage felt by some Armenians of the more nationalist persuasion is quite understandable, and, in some cases, justifiable. It is understandable, because the ICG touches upon several sacred cows of Armenian nationalism – the inapplicability of the Kars treaty, the inviolability of the narratives surrounding the period between 1914 and 1923, the view of the buffer zone around Karabakh as untouchable ‘liberated’ Armenian territory, among others. However, the ICG is right in challenging and de-reifying such ethno-nationalist discourse from a purely political point of view that aims to practically engender a normalisation of Turkish-Armenian relations, and the howls of outrage expressed by Armenian nationalists of all stripes deserve to be ignored.

The Kars treaty is a valid treaty under international law, and Armenia, as a successor state of the Soviet Union, is legally bound by it; those who continue frantically waiving an earlier treaty that was never ratified by anyone and does not have any force of law are trapped in hopeless self-delusion. While the extermination of the Armenians by the Ottoman state is an undeniable fact, it is used by many of our nationalists to uphold a crudely essentialised stereotype of the evil, barbarian Turk versus the good, civilised Armenian that deserves to be discredited. And while the buffer zone around Mountainous Karabakh should be given up only at a very high price, it remains a legitimate bargaining chip in negotiations with Azerbaijan – in fact, the most important bargaining chip of all, one whose non-negotiability would seriously hamper the negotiations process and the establishment of a lasting, secure and just peace for Karabakh and its population.

However, there are three major shortcomings in its study that deserve criticism, not from a narrowly ethno-nationalist viewpoint, but from a more universalist perspective. Firstly, the ICG fails to forcefully call on Turkey to remove the one major impediment to a fruitful dialogue between the Armenian and Turkish societies and a deepening of the crucial process of self-reflection that would be necessary for a multi-faceted understanding by Turkish society of the Armenian genocide – article 301. Secondly, the study contradicts itself and disturbs its prima-facie even-handedness by calling on Yerevan to deliver something it cannot deliver on its own – progress in the Karabakh talks. And, thirdly, the study makes a mistake often made by think-tanks – including, contrary to its stated aims, the ICG – of completely disregarding the ethical aspects of its recommendations: in fact, in situations where guilt and responsibility are unevenly distributed, aiming for symmetry in one’s counsel may turn out to be fundamentally unjust, as it is in this case.

The ICG is right in calling for a dialogue on the Genocide between the Turkish and Armenian societies. Crucially, it rejects the idea of a bilateral ‘Genocide commission’ as impracticable and inevitably too politicised. The construction of new narratives is dependent, first and foremost, on the free transnational interaction of Turks and Armenians, including historians, political scientists, politicians, ordinary citizens. Contrary to what many would think, this does not automatically denote some kind of conspiracy aiming to scuttle the recognition of the Genocide in third countries. Rather, it denotes a view – expressed by Hrant Dink, among others – that the time has come for Armenians to engage directly with Turkish society. I had the honour of meeting the late Mr. Dink a few years ago, and he made the convincing point that Turkey had changed, that some people were prepared to talk and listen. While the recognition campaigns in third countries did play a role in raising the Armenian question outside and within Turkey, without such direct engagement and a major rethink of how the Genocide issue is handled, the Armenians’ ultimate aim – recognition by Turkish state and society – will remain an unattainable goal.

In that respect, the ICG’s failure to more forcefully call on Turkey to abolish 301, or at least end its applicability to the Armenian Genocide, remains a major, unacceptable omission. How are Turks and Armenians going to freely construct compatible narratives if those Turks who depart from nationalist orthodoxy are put through a criminal process – as were the initiators of the internet-based apology campaign? Ultimately, article 301 is a symptom of a deeper-seated problem – that of a nationalism that is based on the politics of ‘my-country-right-or-wrong’. How could there be true Armenian-Turkish reconciliation of those Turks that reject this approach so central to the historical reconciliations in contemporary Europe are persecuted and stigmatised, like Hrant Dink was in the final years of his life?

The second problematic demand by ICG is for Armenia to ‘produce’ progress in the Karabakh negotiations. Contrary to all demands made on Turkey – whose performance is dependent on Ankara alone - Yerevan is thus asked to deliver something it would not be able to produce on its own – save if it capitulated its positions here and now. The complexities of the Karabakh negotiations process should be well-known to ICG by now, and it does seem contradictory to ask Turkey to decouple the normalisation process from Baku, only to re-couple this issue through ICG’s demands on Armenia. While this may at first seem like a Solomonic solution to an admittedly difficult problem, it does strike one as a return to square one – the issue is still being coupled, not by Turkey, but by ICG. This recommendation should have remained in a separate report on the Karabakh conflict: the problem here is that ICG is, willingly or unwillingly, giving in to Turkish ethno-nationalism, the main (but not only) driver behind Ankara’s near-unconditional relationship with Azerbaijan, and its coupling of the Karabakh issue with its Armenian policies.

The third problem in ICG approach is one that is found within almost all policy-oriented think-tanks: an almost-complete absence of ethical considerations. ICG approaches the issue of Turkish-Armenian rapprochement primarily in practical terms; the central question asked is how one can maximise the chances of such a normalisation taking place by producing a report that is maximally balanced in its demands from both sides. ‘Justice’ does not seem to figure in the think-tank’s vocabulary; and this is not so much a question of malice or bias, rather, it is a result of the generally complete absence of ethical thought among most mainstream think-tanks (ICG’s claims notwithstanding). This, in turn, reflects the precarious position of ‘the ethical’ in the international system, where ‘justice’ is usually not among states’ and policymakers’ primary considerations. Politics is still very much a practical art, and save for a few critical theorists – mostly working in academia – both analysts and policymakers see ethics as an interesting sideshow to the blood, sweat and tears that that art is all too often based on.

So how should Armenians take the ICG’s recommendations? Surely, as the aggrieved party in what was – all of ICG’s cynical quotation marks and qualifications notwithstanding – the 20^th century’s first major genocide, they could not accept recommendations that do not differentiate between victim and perpetrator? Such a rejection, however, would be based on an entirely mistaken conception of international politics – which, all lofty intensions and declarations by Western states notwithstanding, is still based on the above-mentioned blood-sweat-tears triad. As Gordon Gekko in Oliver Stone’s Wall Street, Michael Douglas once advised a Wall Street novice to get a dog if he wanted a friend. If Armenia is to survive – no, thrive – in the unstable and dangerous 21st century, it would have to similarly understand that there is just as much justice in international politics (on which think-tank reports are after all based) as there is friendship on Wall Street.

Killing the Messenger.....

The ICG report on Turkish-Armenian relations has elicited considerable comment from the Armenian press - including the diasporan press. Some of the criticisms have been to the point, directly engaging with the solutions offered in the document through rational argumentation and critique. Others, however, have utilised a technique well-known to wishful thinkers throughout history: if you don't like what you hear, kill the messenger. Rather than engaging with the proposals, these commentators have preferred to tarnish the professionalism of the ICG researchers by accusing them of, basically, working for the Turkish government and other vested interests.

One such example is the recent op-ed article by Harut Sassounian, entitled "Think Tank Report on Armenia: You Get What You Pay For". It starts by listing a whole slew of mainstream - and mostly quite respected - institutions, going from one-time hotbeds of neo-conservatism (like the American Enterprise Institute) to fairly moderate outfits like Brookings and the Council on Foreign Relations, that are accused of pro-Turkish bias. It then continues to enumerate the pro-Turkish and Turkish individuals that populate the ICG board and senior advisors, adding that the Turkish foreign ministry is one of the ICG's major donors.

The implication is, of course, that the ICG report was made-to-order. And, considering the fact that there are no Armenians or other individuals who might argue in Armenia's favour, Sassounian's article further implies that we can all sleep tight: any kind of proposal that would come out of this joke of a think-tank would have to be "outrageous" and "extremely detrimental to Armenia's interests." Somewhat conveniently, those suggestions that do not fit our narrowly conceived nationalist utopias are sent straight to the rubbish bin, without any further debate or contemplation. The certainties of yesteryear are preserved, and the struggle can continue.

For years, decades, we Armenians – especially those of us in the diaspora – have taken a rigid definition of the ‘Armenian Cause’ for granted. While there can be no doubt as to the characterisation of the 1915 events as Genocide, one particular, ethno-nationalist and territorial approach to its political and ethical consequences has been turned into a value in and of itself. A blatant lack of open discussion has led to an obfuscation of the different interpretations one could make of ‘justice’ in the Armenian case. Should the ‘Armenian Cause’ be material in nature, incorporating demands for restitution, or should it be merely a moral quest for truth? If it is material, would it indeed have to incorporate demands for territorial restitution, and, if it is not, could it limit itself to monetary compensation, or perhaps even symbolic gestures? And, if we do agree on the goal that should be set, what would be the best way of attaining it? Striving for recognition by third parties - as before? Direct engagement with Turkish society? Engagement with Ankara? War, massacre and conquest? What should be the role of the diaspora in this cause? And the role of the Republics of Armenia and Karabakh?

All these are questions that deserve answers going beyond the repetitions of empty and not-so-empty slogans that imbue us with a false sense of certainty. What is a matter for particular concern is the fact that these slogans, and the 'Armenian Cause', have not been adapted to the single-most important event in Armenian history since 1918 - the creation of the Republics of Armenia and Nagorno-Karabakh in 1991. "Pahanjatirutyun" - being consistent in our demands - has been used as a passe-partout argument suppressing any genuine debate on the matter. Those who have presented an alternative viewpoint - participating in TARC, or otherwise engaging directly with Turkish society - have often been marginalised as 'traitors'.

Too many of our commentators in the diaspora and Armenia proper have continued adhering to a world-view that turns Armenia - a weak and fragile state except perhaps in the minds of those who revel in wishful thinking - into a vehicle for a utopian nationalist ideology. Rather than striving for the security - that is, the well-being and prosperity - of its population, the Republic of Armenia has simply been seen by too many as a vehicle for our pie-in-the-sky demands - as I said, "Pahanjatirutyun" - even if they are but complete pipedreams and put the Republic at odds with what is still its largest direct neighbour.

Stateless peoples can afford their utopias – because, in the end, they don’t have a state to lose. They can afford to pursue goals that seem largely unattainable, because, in the absence of sovereign statehood, the ensuing conflict will largely remain outside the realm of inter-state politics. Borders cannot be blockaded, national armies cannot be defeated, capitals cannot be conquered: instead, oppressive states are faced with minority insurgent groups that are far more difficult to suppress than a well-defined, well-delineated neighbour - especially if these groups are in diaspora.

Once achieved, however, the independence and sovereignty that come with a minority’s exercise of its fundamental right to self-determination do not stand on their own. They are accompanied by the same kind of responsibility that comes with property: that of the bonus paterfamilias – the good housefather. Independence must be maintained, prosperity nurtured. In the end, nations that achieve statehood must have a fundamentally different attitude to those aspiring to it. They must see statehood as their ultimate common good, as their dominant collective cause. The survival and prosperity of the sovereign state must trump all other ideological considerations. ‘National causes’ – particularly ones aimed against neighbours – become a luxury, subject to power relationships and the ultimate Macchiavellian virtue of prudence.

In the 18 years since independence, the nationalists among us have failed to adapt their ideology to the requirements of a sovereign, independent, prosperous and genuinely pluralistic Republic of Armenia. Instead, they have continued defining its core principle – the ‘Armenian Cause’ – through a mindset of statelessness. They have continued to see Armenia as a springboard towards the realisation of a territorial utopia – by not only supporting Artsakh’s legitimate struggle for self-determination, but by also laying claim to territories in all of Armenia’s neighbours except Iran. They have continued to propagate the idea of an (ethno-)national ideology, despite of the notion’s totalitarian and fundamentally anti-democratic nature, precluding any form of debate and introspection.

And killing the messenger instead of debating the message is precisely one symptom of such rigidly absolutist thought. If you adhere to any of ICG's suggestions after the institution has been declared a Turkish stooge, you in effect adhere to Turkey's standpoint - debate closed. This is the clear implication of Mr. Sassounian's article.

For all his faults - and he had and still has many - Levon Ter-Petrossian was absolutely right when he declared in 1997:

“What do they mean by a national ideology? Only one thing which the whole nation should accept. A whole nation accepts one single ideology only in totalitarian systems, only in ideologized states. If there is democracy, no one can impose any ideology. Today, every ideology in Armenia is a national one to me, because each of them projects the best way of solving the national issues in itself. If a nation is forced to accept a national ideology, that is the end of democracy.”

The Moscow Declaration, and a few other issues....

‘Much ado about nothing’ – that is how one could safely describe the declaration, signed in Moscow by presidents Sargsyan and Aliyev after talks hosted by Dimitri Medvedev. Reading the declaration itself, it is quite unclear why it provoked the reaction it has provoked in Yerevan, especially among the more radical elements of the opposition.

Some of the criticisms of the document have centred on the fact that it refers to ‘solutions based on principles of international law’, and that is somehow seen as detrimental to the Armenian position. But, really, international law can be interpreted in many different ways, and, moreover, includes the principle of national self-determination – as Serj Sargsyan rightly pointed out on his return to Yerevan. In fact, it there was an element of absurdity in the ways in which both presidents signed this declaration in Moscow, only to hold on to their well-known positions on returning to their respective capitals. The Azeri foreign ministry promptly rejected claims by Yerevan that the document had obliged it to forego any military solution to the conflict. Before long, we were at square one again. Nothing had changed, really.

It would perhaps be better to see this document as a face-saving exercise by the Kremlin. Rightly or wrongly, Medvedev may have thought a breakthrough possible during the meeting in Moscow – after this summer’s war, Russia’s image in the Southern Caucasus had to be skewed to that of a peacemaker again. When a breakthrough didn’t come, the Russians settled for an empty document to have at least something to show for their efforts. Diplomacy can sometimes be as simple as that.

The Minsk Group co-chairmen- whose work seems to have been remarkably unaffected by this summer’s dramatic events - tell the world both sides are close to an agreement. But they have been telling that same story for the past 5 years now. What they haven’t been able to do so far is answer the question as to how one squares a circle by reconciling Armenia’s absolute commitment to Karabakh’s independence to Azerbaijan’s equally uncompromising dedication to its territorial integrity. Both sides haven’t changed their rhetoric in that regard, and as long as that doesn’t change, I believe it’s safe to describe any optimism as completely unwarranted.

The only possible indication of chances for a future breakthrough came from the increasing focus by several of Armenia’s political groups on the prospect of a return of occupied territories around Nagorno Karabakh to Azerbaijan. The ARF, for instance, stated that it would not be able to remain within the coalition if any of the lands conquered by Armenian forces in 1992-1994 were to be returned as part of a future agreement. Several opposition groups also added their voices to the rejection of such an eventuality.

But what alternative do these political groups propose? “Payqar payqar minchev verj” – “Struggle till the end”? Will Armenians always be condemned to following those abusing their kneejerk reactions through these primitive nationalistic slogans, used and abused by an incoherent plethora of political groups and factions?

For too long, Armenia has been under the influence of those who see ‘national security’ in an underdeveloped, uni-dimensional way. When thinking about security, don’t only think about your actions – try to consider the reactions of those around you. Try to see the bigger picture. Holding on to most of the occupied territories might end up costing Armenia much more than any peace their return would engender.

On an entirely different subject – still related to security, broadly defined – Amnesty International published an entirely credible report (http://www.amnesty.org.uk/uploads/documents/doc_18971.pdf) on the abuse of women in the Republic of Armenia, where no less than 25% of women are the victims of physical domestic violence.

There are two ways in which this report can be read by Armenian society – either as a wake-up call, pointing to the need to address discrimination and gendered prejudice, or as an insult, an attack against the machismo and ‘cult-of-virginity’ prevalent in Armenian society, masquerading under the unassailable label of ‘national tradition’.

I would just like to point out that if everyone had stuck to their ‘national traditions’ from the very beginning, we’d all still be swinging from the trees today.

Some among us obviously still are.

After the Final Whistle

The idea seemed quite simple when it was first floated by the Armenian president, Serj Sargsyan, in July. For all the historical hatred and political animosity, the beautiful game was one passion shared by people on both sides of the long-sealed Turkish-Armenian border. If the Turkish and Armenians teams were to play each other in a world cup qualifier, why couldn’t the occasion be used to bring the two peoples and states together, in a first step in the long road towards reconciliation? And so, the invitations went out, and the Armenian president invited his counterpart to a football match. That such an otherwise routine and commonplace action was labelled ‘historic’ fittingly illustrated the level of animosity between these two neighbours.

In the end, the visit itself was something of an anti-climax. Despite of Armenia lifting all visa restrictions on Turkish citizens, the visions of Turkic hordes descending on the Caucasian mountain state – Turkey’s fans are known for their fierce dedication to ‘the cause’ – did not materialise. The Turkish delegation included mostly diplomats and journalists, and numbered in the hundreds rather than the tens of thousands. Neither did the nightmares of egg- or tomato-throwing Armenian nationalists come true. Yes, there were Armenian demonstrators peacefully expressing their dismay at the visit on the streets of Yerevan. And yes, both the Turkish president and the Turkish anthem were booed before the game. But public demonstrations are a fundamental human right, as is, according to many, the booing and hissing of opponents’ anthems during soccer matches – something at which Turkish football fans apparently also excel. In practice, there was general consensus in Armenian society on the desirability of a normalisation of relations – with the country’s opposition even suspending its long-running protest actions so as to create a favourable atmosphere in the capital, and with the press remaining overwhelmingly supportive. All in all, the visit went as planned – leaving everyone with the question, after the final whistle: “Now what?”

The very fact of a Turkish head of state visiting Yerevan would have been unthinkable only a few months ago. Both Sargsyan’s invitation and Gül’s acceptance indicate a wish on both sides to normalise relations. For Turkey, this is about stabilising the Caucasus, where an escalation of conflict could have potentially costly consequences for the country. It is also about countering the very real possibility of the recognition, by the US Congress, of the Armenian Genocide in the coming months and years, with all the complications this would involve in its relations with the United States. An apparent rapprochement with Armenia could, in Ankara’s eyes at least, delay or even eliminate such an eventuality. Finally, with unrest stirring (again) in Kurdish-populated Eastern Turkey, an open border with Armenia would provide these socio-economically backward provinces with new opportunities for trade and tourism. Finally, last month’s dramatic events in Georgia have graphically illustrated in how far it is counter-productive to use one single and quite unstable route for the energy and transportation projects of the 21st century.

For Armenia, that same conflict has also vividly demonstrated its dependence on a weak and unstable state for its trade links with much of the outside world. Despite of all claims to the contrary, even outside of periods of acute conflict and instability, the Armenian population is paying a high price for the current situation. Elevated transportation costs make imported goods extremely costly, and severely stunt Armenia’s ability to export, resulting in significant trade imbalances that grossly distort the country’s (still fast-growing) economy. Closed borders also make the country less attractive to large foreign investors. Opening the border with its large Western neighbour would enable Yerevan to use the Turkish port of Trabzon in addition to Georgia’s Poti and Batumi, and would connect Armenia’s rail network directly to Europe, thus opening new markets and opportunities for Armenia’s producers and foreign investors, and easing price pressures on consumers, through dramatically reduced transportation costs and a generally more open and competitive economy.

Then why, you may ask, is this border still closed after 15 years – despite of an opening obviously benefiting both sides materially? While Armenia has called for the establishment of diplomatic relations and the opening of the border without preconditions, Turkey has put forward three prerequisites for a normalisation of relations:

• First, Armenia must abandon any territorial claims it may have in Eastern Turkey. Turkish diplomats and commentators argue, among others, that Armenia’s 1990 Declaration of Independence, which refers to the region as ‘Western Armenia’, and the country’s coat-of-arms, which includes Mount Ararat, both indicate territorial ambitions on official Yerevan’s part.

• Second, Armenia must abandon its campaign at having the 1915 Genocide recognised as such by the international community. In that regard, Turkey has proposed the setting up of an ‘impartial’ commission of historians to study the events of that tragic period in light of their conformity to the 1949 UN Genocide convention.

• Third, Armenia and Azerbaijan must come to an agreement on the thorny issue of Nagorno-Karabakh.

Of these three pre-conditions, the first two are relatively ‘manageable’ – either because they are the result of long-time misperceptions, or because, being of a largely symbolic or historic nature, they do not directly impact the immediate material interests of either party. Moreover, both the territorial and genocide issues are purely bilateral in nature – making their solutions dependent on the parties themselves, and, therefore, relatively less complicated to resolve. The success or failure of the current attempts at Turkish-Armenian rapprochement will largely depend on the third pre-condition – on how the parties decide to deal with the Nagorno-Karabakh issue. Of all three obstacles standing in the way of a normalisation, this is the most complex one, and if this most recent attempt at rapprochement fails, it will most likely be on this issue rather than the previous two. Firstly, the Karabakh question does impact on the interests of both parties in a very real and present manner – here, we are not talking symbols or history, but an extremely tangible situation, existing on the ground as we speak, affecting the lives of hundreds of thousands of people. Secondly, the Karabakh issue is not purely bilateral: both Armenia and Turkey will be subject to pressures from below, besides and above as they try to tackle this question, with their societies, allies and the great powers all having a vested interest in how exactly things are settled.

First, the most absurd pre-condition – that of tiny Armenia dropping presumed territorial claims against Turkey. The fact that the Armenian declaration of independence talks of ‘Western Armenia’ does not indicate a territorial claim – neither does Armenia’s very discreet use of Mount Ararat on its coat-of-arms. If the Armenian state stayed silent or made explicit claims in addition to these purely symbolic factors, yes, Turkey would have a right to be concerned – but no-one representing the Republic of Armenia in an official capacity has ever made such demands. Quite on the contrary, high-ranking Armenian officials have, at various times, clearly and unequivocally stated the absence of any territorial claims by Armenia in Eastern Turkey. In 2006, Armenia’s foreign minister at that time clearly affirmed Armenia’s acceptance of the validity of both the Kars and Moscow treaties delineating the current border between Turkey and Armenia. Just a month or so ago, in an interview with the Turkish ‘Radikal’ daily, the current president also clearly acknowledged the absence of any Armenian territorial claims in Eastern Turkey. These statements are being ignored by a surprising number of Turkish pundits and politicians – perhaps because they do not fit the established nationalist stereotypes that would allow them to continue ‘business as usual’ with their Eastern neighbour? Armenian officials would most probably see no problem in officially reaffirming their recognition of Turkey’s territorial integrity, despite of the reaction it would cause among the nationalist fringe.

On the second issue – that of the Genocide – both sides are actually not as far apart as it might seem at first sight, at least on the question of how to limit its effects on their bilateral relations. Of course, it is completely unrealistic to believe Turkey will recognise the Genocide any time soon, as it is unreasonable to assume Armenia will ever completely drop the Genocide issue from its foreign policy agenda. Both parties are subject to considerable pressures from below on that point – at this juncture, Turkish society would simply not accept a recognition by its government, and (contrary to what is often erroneously believed in Turkey), Armenian society (and not just the diaspora) could not countenance its state remaining silent on that matter. Moreover, it would be quite erroneous for anyone to expect the Armenian diaspora to give up its forceful quest for recognition – one of the pre-requisites for ‘managing’ this issue would be for Turkey to accept the Republic of Armenia has little, if any control over what American or French citizens of Armenian descent demand from their respective governments.

Provided all the caveats mentioned in the previous paragraph are taken into consideration, some kind of ‘modus vivendi’ could be found between the parties. Armenia has seriously replied to Turkey’s proposal to set up a commission of ‘impartial’ historians to study the matter by suggesting the creation of an inter-governmental commission tackling all issues of interest to the states after the establishment of diplomatic relations. It would not be surprising if discussion on the exact format of such a commission had been included in the secretive talks between Armenian and Turkish diplomats in Switzerland earlier this year. Another possibility would be for the issue to remain on Yerevan’s agenda, but less prominently so than in previous years, with Turkey silently scaling back its attempts at historical revision. In any case, the visit by Gül to Yerevan would have been unlikely if there hadn’t been at least the prospect of an agreement on how to manage this delicate issue – whether through a commission or through a decision to somehow “agree to disagree” in the future.

Turkey’s most complicated condition is the one relating to Nagorno-Karabakh. For this issue not to stand in the way of a Turkish-Armenian detente, either Turkey would have to de-couple its Armenia policies from Baku, or Armenia and Azerbaijan would somehow have to come to an agreement after years of tortuous and so far fruitless negotiations. While both outcomes are possible, they also face a variety of structural hurdles that limit the scope for action in both Ankara and Yerevan. As noted above, this is the only issue of substantive (rather than historic or symbolic) nature among the pre-conditions cited by Ankara for improved Armenian-Turkish relations. The conflict directly affects the lives of hundreds of thousands of people in the region – the Armenian inhabitants of Nagorno-Karabakh, and Azeri refugees and IDPs. It has a quite tangible effect on the security of Armenia, and Turkey’s closest ally, Azerbaijan; over the past 20 years, all sides have invested considerable material and diplomatic resources in trying to prevail in what they have rightly or wrongly seen as an issue of existential importance.

The conflict is, moreover, one where both sides are subject to pressures from a variety of quarters, making it by far the most complex issue standing in the way of a normalisation of relations. For a number of reasons, preserving the security of Karabakh’s Armenian inhabitants has been the central plank of Armenia’s foreign policy since independence. It would be utterly unrealistic to expect Yerevan to hand over the territory and its ethnic Armenian inhabitants ‘on a silver platter’ in return for economic favours: Armenia has so far been quite willing to pay the hefty economic price that comes with its insistence on Karabakh’s self-determination, which it sees as the only guarantee for the survival of that region’s ethnic Armenian population. On the other hand, Turkey’s powerful nationalists, and many in the nation’s military, see an unconditional commitment to Azerbaijan as an absolutely essential aspect of the country’s foreign policy. De-coupling Ankara’s policies towards Armenia from Azerbaijan would thus involve considerable domestic costs for any Turkish government – these would have to be overshadowed by the gains on the international and regional levels for such an eventuality to occur.

There are, however, solid arguments for such a de-coupling – especially after Georgia’s conflict with Russia. Turkey’s de-facto outsourcing of its Armenia policy to Baku has not achieved anything concrete in terms of making a resolution of the Karabakh conflict more feasible. Instead, it has reinforced existing stereotypes and insecurities, and has in effect excluded Turkey from the negotiations processes regarding the single most important frozen conflict in the region. Any advantages Baku might have received in terms of tilting the balance of power in its favour have been effectively neutralised by Russia’s strategic alliance with Armenia; and any hopes Azerbaijan might have had regarding a speedy Russian withdrawal from the Caucasus have now been dashed during the conflict in Georgia. Now that Ankara has woken up to the necessity of a comprehensive approach to security in the Caucasus – its Caucasus Stability Pact is a clear expression of this realisation – it might also feel that a more independent and pro-active approach is more conducive to constructing compromise solutions based on carefully constructed trust rather than the crude, largely ineffective pressure of closed borders.

Of course, the Karabakh conflict could also cease being an impediment to Turkish-Armenian relations by being resolved. Negotiations led by the OSCE Minsk Group have been continuing for almost 15 years, and, although the negotiators have been claiming for some time now that the parties are tantalisingly close to agreement – save for a few complex sticking points – such hopeful signs have previously been dashed on several occasions. Significantly, the talks have so far involved three co-chairs: France, the United States, and Russia. Although these three actors have been able to co-operate smoothly within the narrow confines of the Minsk Group, it is quite unclear whether this will remain the case in light of recent processes in the Caucasus. Russia’s foreign minister, Sergei Lavrov, has recently indicated Russia would be happy to see Armenia and Azerbaijan holding direct talks on the question of Nagorno-Karabakh, outside the Minsk Group’s formal aegis - an effort at sidelining Washington and Paris, or a sign of tangible progress? And, Turkey’s president has visited Baku in the wake of his historic football diplomacy in Yerevan – an indication of panic or, again, a hint at a possible speedy solution? It is impossible to know at this point.

What is certain, however, is that the Karabakh conflict represents the most complex of all three impediments standing in the way of normalised Turkish-Armenian relations. In tying the normalisation of relations to that conflict, Ankara has in effect joined its bilateral relations with Armenia to a nexus where the very material interests of numerous actors, foreign and domestic, intermingle with any political will Armenia and Turkey might have towards normalising their relations. Of course, Turkey may have come to the conclusion that a more independent and pro-active Caucasus policy would contribute more to security and peace in the region than threats and blockades – in that case, Armenian-Turkish relations could go from being a hostage to the Karabakh conflict to potentially contributing to a solution. Alternatively, Ankara might feel that an agreement between Baku, Stepanakert and Yerevan is imminent – eliminating Karabakh as an impediment to bilateral interaction. But otherwise, football diplomacy will risk being drowned out in the complications of the Karabakh conflict – yet another tragically lost opportunity in the long and winding road towards the reconciliation of two of the world’s most intractable foes.

Vulnerabilities Galore

Much has been said and written about Russia's next steps in the geopolitical drama that is unfolding in its 'near abroad'. Let's look at three of the states that are mentioned most often as targets for destabilisation: Georgia (what remains of it), Azerbaijan and the Ukraine.

The current situation in Georgia gives Moscow plenty of opportunities to keep meddling in the country's internal affairs. Firstly, its “peacekeepers” are stationed in the immediate vicinity of the Tbilisi-Gori-Poti highway and railroad - the Southern Caucasus’ economic jugular vein. The Kremlin could invent any number of pretexts to cut off traffic on this route that is so crucial to the economic survival of not only Georgia, but all three Caucasian states. Armenia receives much of its strategic supplies (oil, wheat) through this all-important transportation corridor, and recent events have shown Russia to be quite indifferent to its ally’s fate when it comes to dealing with Tbilisi. Baku’s oil industry is also dependent on this route for technical supplies, and considering Azerbaijan’s thinly disguised pro-Western leanings, Russia would be even less reluctant to remind the wannabe ‘regional leader’ of its dependence on its goodwill. With such an important portion of the country’s transportation infrastructure at Moscow’s mercy, it could also become much more difficult for Tbilisi to attract the FDI it so urgently needs for rebuilding.

Secondly, rump Georgia contains two significant, geographically compact non-Georgian ethnic populations: the Azeris in the Marneuli district and the Armenians in Javakheti. While there have been tensions in the past, especially in Javakheti, these have so far been successfully addressed by the Saakashvili administration, sometimes in co-operation with Armenia and Azerbaijan – both of whom are not at all interested in allowing their ethnic kin to poison their respective relations with Tbilisi. Both populations have shown themselves loyal to the Georgian state during the recent crisis. There are, however, fears in Georgia that the Armenians of Javakheti in particular might be aroused by Russian undercover operatives. In the Caucasus, so laden with ethnic suspicions, all it would take to set a problematic province alight would be a well-scripted provocation, supplemented by rumour and innuendo, giving the Kremlin an opportunity to take the dismemberment of the Georgian state one step further. Incidentally, about two weeks before Saakashvili ordered the assault on Tskhinvali, the leaders of an Armenian nationalist group in the region were arrested in mysterious circumstances. Whether or not there was a connection between these two events remains to be seen.

On to Azerbaijan - of course, one obvious way in which the Kremlin could destabilise that country would be through a thawing of the frozen conflict over Nagorno Karabakh with Armenia. That would, however, require the latter’s co-operation, and would, moreover, be fraught with potentially dangerous and unforeseeable consequences for all parties. In its earlier ‘hot’ phase, the Karabakh conflict was the bloodiest in the former Soviet Union, causing over 30,000 deaths and over a million refugees on both sides. Although nothing can be ruled out considering the events of recent weeks, it is difficult to see how Moscow could be interested in a conflagration that may easily spiral out of its control.

However, other ethnic minorities offer alternative, and more controllable ways of creating headaches for Baku. Two, in particular, might be relevant – the Talysh, living in the South-East, and the Lezghin, in the North-East. While the Talysh live far from Russia’s borders with Azerbaijan, the Lezghin would be a particularly attractive target for provocation - because they have ethnic kin living in the Russian Northern Caucasian autonomous republic of Daghestan, just like the Ossetians in Georgia. Coincidentally or not, in July this year, a shadowy organisation claiming to represent the Lezghin in Azerbaijan called on outside intervention to end a ‘genocide’ by the authorities in Baku against that minority. Could this have been a warning shot from Moscow, coming, as it was, on the heels of a government-sponsored conference on Lezghin issues in the Russian capital? In any case, it fits nicely into Russia’s claim, forcefully voiced and applied during the current crisis in Georgia, to be the protector of the ‘small peoples’ of the Caucasus. Azeri (and Western) policymakers better take note.

Finally, the Ukraine – far larger than the other two states I have dealt with above, but also, extremely vulnerable, in three distinct ways. Most Western analysts centre on the Crimea as a potential future flashpoint, and, considering its mostly ethnic Russian population, its strategic importance as the host of Russia’s Black Sea fleet, and the fact that it was gifted to the Ukraine by the Russian SSR only in 1954, it seems reasonable to assume Moscow might target it for annexation. In recent months, there have already been irredentist noises in the Kremlin regarding the territory, and there are reports Russia has been – rather ominously - distributing passports as in Abkhazia and South Ossetia. The local population is quite decisively opposed to Kiev’s NATO ambitions, and it would not take much effort on Moscow’s part to engineer some kind of separatist reaction, if circumstances demanded.

On the other hand, Moscow might concentrate on exacerbating the East/West divide that has plagued the Ukraine since independence. Contrary to what has been seen in Georgia, there is no large majority in the Ukraine in favour of a pro-Western orientation. In fact, the country is split almost down the middle, with support for NATO increasing as one moves towards its Ukrainian-speaking Western part. In the East, people (both ethnic Ukrainians and Russians) speak Russian, and strongly identify with Russia as a natural, Slavic ally. The fact that opposition to NATO is geographically and linguistically distinct throughout the Ukraine – not just in the Crimea – could offer Russia yet another lever in its fight to keep the country, or a significant part of it, inside its sphere of influence.

Admittedly, this would potentially be a very costly and unpredictable path to take. However, this East/West divide is also visible throughout Ukrainian state structures – bringing us to the third way in which Moscow might try to keep the Ukraine pliant. Rather than taking the Georgian route and using separatism (in the East or in the Crimea), the Kremlin might try to engineer the downfall of the Ukraine’s currently pro-Western central government. In the absence of a national anti-Russian/pro-NATO consensus, it would not be too difficult to tip the balance of opinion in Moscow’s favour through any number of tricks – economic blackmail, propaganda, the funding of pro-Russian groups, bribing/cooptation of pro-Western lawmakers, etc... Once re-established, a pro-Russian Ukrainian government could then quickly re-align the country with Moscow, renewing the all-important treaty on the Russian naval bases in Sebastopol, ditching Kiev’s ambitions to join NATO, and repressing the pro-Western regions of the Ukraine with Russia’s approval. Considering the enormous problems associated with engineering and controlling separatism in a country as large as the Ukraine, this latter option may very well be the one the Kremlin decides to employ.

A Dignified Protest

Today, Tbilisi ground to a halt as ordinary Georgians were given an opportunity to express their dismay at Russia's neo-imperial activities in their country. And I must say it was a dignified, and quite impressive performance, with young and old, of all ethnic groups, lining the roads in Tbilisi, Georgian flags in hand, marching and chanting in their millions, and fulfilling their civic duty by expressing loyalty to their endangered state. It was, quite clearly, an unforced, sincere outpouring of public emotion by people who are seeing their state torn to shreds as we speak.

For all its faults in relation to its foreign and security policies, one thing must be made clear: in stark contrast to Azerbaijan, Georgia had made considerable progress in recent years, both in terms of democracy and in terms of its treatment of minorities. While problems do remain, the Saakashvili government has made an honest effort at promoting a civic, inclusive form of nationalism, in preparation of the hoped-for reunification of the country. There is certainly reason to believe the Georgian government's accusations that Russia was prodding Abkhazia, and especially South Ossetia, to obstruct its wide-ranging offers of autonomy to both regions. The idea that Russia was ever a peace-keeper in the Caucasus is one that would make any unbiased observer laugh - over 15 years, it did everything in its power to obfuscate and obstruct. By skilfully playing into and amplifying the fears of both Ossetians and Abkhazians through semi-criminal local regimes, it basically eliminated any chances of these two entities ever reuniting with Georgia proper.

Similarly, Russian claims of 'Genocide' have the smell (stench?) of old-style KGB propaganda all over them. While firing on Tskhinvali with Katyushas was certainly unacceptable on Georgia's part, Russia's claims of 2,000 deaths and tens of thousands of refugees (all within the spate of 12 hours) were suspiciously over-the-top from the start. The crude, 24/7 attempt by Russia's media to create the impression of a major humanitarian catastrophe even managed to fool a few western commentators. Not surprisingly, however, once Russia's mission was accomplished, the same people who had reduced Grozny to pulp several times over without shedding so much as a tear quietly decreased the death count to a still elevated, but hardly genocidal 133. These hysterical claims of ethnic cleansing were all the more unbelievable because Georgia's policies of recent years have clearly been aimed at including both Ossetians and Abkhazians in the fabric of the Georgian state - tens of thousands of Ossetians live in Georgia proper up to this day, and remain largely undisturbed. Wouldn't Georgia have ethnically cleansed those Ossetians under its control before attempting a blitz-genocide in South Ossetia?