Karabakh and the Price of Ignoring Early Warnings
Nagorno-Karabakh did not empty in a single day.
For months, the Armenian population lived under increasingly severe restrictions and humanitarian deprivation. The Lachin Corridor was blocked for nine months. Food, medicine, and other essential supplies became scarce. International institutions issued warnings, while human rights organizations documented the deterioration.
In February 2023, the International Court of Justice ordered Azerbaijan to take all measures at its disposal to ensure unimpeded movement of persons, vehicles and cargo through the Lachin Corridor in both directions. Armenian experts were warning that the Armenians of Karabakh were facing a direct threat of genocide, calling for urgent international action based on human rights and international law.
Assessing the consequences of Azerbaijan’s blockade and military intervention in Karabakh, former International Criminal Court prosecutor Luis Moreno Ocampo warned in August 2023 that there was a reasonable basis to believe that genocide was being committed against the Armenians of Nagorno-Karabakh. He argued that the deliberate deprivation of food, medicine, and other essential goods could constitute genocide under Article II(c) of the Genocide Convention and warned that without immediate action, the Armenian population could be destroyed within weeks.
Israel was a major supplier of arms to Azerbaijan before and during the 2020 Nagorno-Karabakh war. According to the Stockholm International Peace Research Institute (SIPRI), Israel accounted for 27 percent of Azerbaijan’s imports of major arms from 2011 to 2020 and 69 percent from 2016 to 2020. Israeli-supplied loitering munitions, unmanned aerial vehicles, and other systems were used during the 2020 war.
This does not establish a direct causal link between Israeli arms transfers to Azerbaijan and the later humanitarian crisis in Gaza. But it does raise a broader question about international responsibility: When states transfer military capabilities into conflict zones, how seriously are the foreseeable consequences for civilians and regional stability taken into account?
The warning was there. The humanitarian evidence was there. The international mechanisms were there. But prevention failed.
After Azerbaijan’s September 2023 military operation, UN agencies subsequently documented more than 100,000 Armenian refugees (the whole endogenous Armenian population from Karabakh) arriving in Armenia. Meanwhile, Armenian officials from Karabakh remain imprisoned in Baku. In February 2026, Amnesty International described the trials of 16 ethnic Armenian defendants as a “travesty” and said that their prosecution before a military court raised serious concerns and was incompatible with fair-trial guarantees. Amnesty International’s assessment therefore reinforces concerns about whether these proceedings can provide genuinely fair and impartial justice.
Karabakh was a test of whether the international community could recognize a danger before it became a catastrophe. It was also a missed opportunity to demonstrate that early warnings, preventive diplomacy and international pressure can actually protect a population before displacement becomes irreversible.
The latest OCHA Humanitarian Situation Report, dated September 12 2026, continues to document serious humanitarian and protection concerns across the Occupied Palestinian Territory. In Gaza, military activity continues to cause civilian casualties and damage to civilian infrastructure, while humanitarian operations remain constrained by access, security, and funding problems. Most people remain displaced and face severe difficulties obtaining adequate shelter, water and essential services.
The humanitarian situation is particularly severe for women and children. In the West Bank, OCHA documented more than 1,600 settler attacks causing Palestinian casualties or property damage between January and August 2026, across 275 communities – an average of 6.7 attacks every day. The report also documents continuing demolitions and displacement.
On September 10, an Israeli airstrike in northern Gaza killed a man, his wife, and their two daughters, aged eight and twelve, while they were reportedly asleep in their home. Two days later, The Guardian reported the death of 27-year-old Iman Shalouf, who was eight months pregnant, after she was shot in the head while sitting in a tent in Khan Younis; both the woman and her unborn child died. A ceasefire that does not reliably protect civilians from continuing attacks cannot by itself amount to a durable peace. The humanitarian crisis is therefore also a crisis of security, territory and displacement.
Is “Voluntary Emigration” Really Voluntary?
Perhaps the most disturbing development in the current Israeli political debate is the renewed discussion about the future of Gaza in terms of Palestinian departure.
In September, far-right Israeli ministers again promoted plans for what they call “voluntary emigration” of Palestinians from Gaza. At the same time, Israeli Foreign Minister Gideon Sa’ar said on September 9 that the government has no plans to deport Palestinians from Gaza. The distinction is important. It would be inaccurate to describe mass deportation as an established Israeli government policy. But it would be equally misleading to dismiss the political significance of senior government ministers openly advocating mass emigration.
The central question is simple: How voluntary is departure when the conditions for remaining have become unbearable?
This is where the Armenian experience becomes relevant.
What does “Never Again” Require?
“Never Again” should not be understood as a privilege belonging to the victims of one particular genocide. If it has a universal meaning, then the identity of the victims cannot determine whether their suffering matters.
Jewish organizations and activists have made precisely this argument. Jewish Voice for Peace, for example, has used the formulation “Never Again for Anybody” in its discussion of Gaza.
Raphael Lemkin, the Polish-Jewish jurist who coined the term “genocide,” was deeply influenced by his early exposure to reports of the destruction of Armenians in the Ottoman Empire. His experience contributed to his conviction that international law needed to protect national, ethnic and religious groups from destruction. He later made it his life’s mission to establish genocide as an international crime, helping pave the way for the UN Genocide Convention of 1948.
This history matters. The Armenian demand for recognition of the 1915 Genocide is not simply about preserving Armenian memory. At its strongest, it is also a demand that the lessons of mass atrocity be transformed into international mechanisms capable of preventing future atrocities.
That is why recognition of the Armenian Genocide should not be understood only as an Armenian historical demand. It can also be understood as part of a universal commitment to prevention.
Armenia formally recognized the State of Palestine on June 21, 2024, and established diplomatic relations with Palestine on September 27, 2024, well before the cruel events unfolding today, when Spain, Ireland, Norway and Slovenia had only recently taken the same step.
And this principle should also apply when the victims are Palestinians. One does not have to choose between the humanity of Israeli victims and the humanity of Palestinian victims. That is precisely what “Never Again” should mean.
Karabakh should therefore not be remembered only as a past failure. It should also be treated as a warning for populations currently at risk. The lesson of Karabakh is therefore not simply that the international community failed to prevent one particular catastrophe. It is that warnings can become meaningless if they are not translated into timely diplomatic pressure, humanitarian access, civilian protection, and other preventive measures.
Gaza presents another test of whether the international community has learned to act while there is still time.
