It Has to Be Said: Another Inflection Point
There is something profoundly grotesque about watching Armenians stand trial in Azerbaijan, a regime notorious for brutal repression against its own citizens, dismal human rights record, and deep-seated Armenophobia. That these trials are taking place under a regime that has systematically dehumanized Armenians for decades makes them all the more chilling.
These so-called trials are nothing more than political theater, void of legitimacy, international oversight or due process. In fact, the blatant procedural violations and the list of crimes in the indictment against these men make a mockery of the law. The Azerbaijani regime’s actions are not about justice but a stark example of autocratic legalism, the manipulation of legal frameworks to justify authoritarian rule and systematic oppression. The Aliyev regime has weaponized this tactic, first to suppress the Armenian population of Nagorno-Karabakh, and now to punish its former leaders in a courtroom. At their core, these trials are an act of humiliation, retribution and political coercion, aimed at exerting further pressure on Armenia as peace talks remain stalled.
There are currently 23 Armenians in Baku being tried on charges of terrorism, crimes against humanity and crimes against the state of Azerbaijan. Among them are Artsakh state officials including former Artsakh presidents Arkady Ghukasyan, Bako Sahakyan and Arayik Harutyunyan; former Artsakh State Minister Ruben Vardanyan, Artsakh National Assembly President Davit Ishkhanyan; former Foreign Affairs Minister Davit Babayan; former Defense Army Commander Levon Mnatsakanyan; and Deputy Commander Davit Manukyan; including other prisoners of war, hostages and detainees.
Nearly five years after the 2020 Nagorno-Karabakh War, the nightmare continues—not on the battlefield, but in the sham tribunals of Baku.
How Did We Get Here?
On September 19, 2023, after nine months of an illegal blockade, Azerbaijani forces launched a swift military assault on Artsakh. Within 24 hours, its leadership surrendered, and within weeks, the entire indigenous Armenian population had been forcibly displaced. What remained of Nagorno-Karabakh was officially dissolved by decree of its last president, Samvel Shahramanyan, effective January 1, 2024.
During those final chaotic weeks of late September and early October, these eight high-ranking former Artsakh officials, now facing the prospect of life imprisonment, fell into Azerbaijani custody. Some were captured while attempting to cross the Hakari Bridge into Armenia during the mass exodus, while others ended up in Azerbaijani hands under unclear circumstances.
But the story doesn’t start or end here. A number of Armenians have already been tried and sentenced in Azerbaijan since the 2020 war.
In July 2024, a Baku court sentenced Artsakh resident Rashid Beglaryan, 62, to 15 years in prison for allegedly participating in the so-called Khojaly massacre of 1992. Beglaryan had been detained after mistakenly crossing into Azerbaijani territory at the height of the blockade of Nagorno-Karabakh.
In November 2023, 69-year-old Vagif Khachatryan, was sentenced to 15 years for alleged involvement in the killing and displacement of Azerbaijanis in the village of Meshali during the First Nagorno-Karabakh War. Khachatryan was arrested in July 2023 at an Azerbaijani checkpoint in the Lachin Corridor while being transported to Armenia for medical treatment by the International Committee for the Red Cross.
Lebanese-Armenian citizen Vicken Euljekian was sentenced to 20 years in prison in June 2021 on charges of terrorism and illegally crossing the Azerbaijani border. Euljekian was captured near Shushi after the 2020 war ended while transporting fellow Lebanese-Armenian Maral Najarian to retrieve her belongings. Najarian was released in March 2021 and returned to Lebanon.
Confined Behind Glass
As these latest trials began in January of this year, Armenians were confronted with a new horror: images of former Artsakh leaders confined behind glass in an Azerbaijani courtroom. Among them was former State Minister Ruben Vardanyan, whose case has been separated from the others, with an absurd and politically charged list of accusations against him.
Vardanyan moved to Artsakh in 2022, renouncing his Russian citizenship after being appointed State Minister by then-President Arayik Harutyunyan. His tenure lasted just four months, and his removal was reportedly one of Azerbaijan’s key conditions for ending the blockade of Artsakh, a promise they obviously did not fulfill.
Now, Azerbaijan has charged Vardanyan with terrorism, alleging that he orchestrated a plot to attack Azerbaijani diplomats abroad, dubbed “Nemesis 2.” Vardanyan has launched a hunger strike, calling his trial a political spectacle that flagrantly violates both Azerbaijani and international legal standards.
Through his family, Vardanyan appealed to the international community, stating that he is being prosecuted not for any real crimes, but simply for being Armenian and advocating for the rights of Artsakh’s Armenian-Christian population. He underscored the severe due process violations that have marred his trial, despite Azerbaijan’s commitments to international human rights conventions. He is being tried in a military tribunal rather than a civilian court, with restricted access to legal representation, as his international legal team has been barred from contact. Given only a limited time to review 422 volumes of evidence, available exclusively in Azerbaijani, he faces gross translation errors and unsigned indictments that obscure the charges against him. He has also been denied the right to call defense witnesses or challenge procedural violations, while international observers and foreign journalists remain barred from the courtroom.
There is no doubt that these trials lack legitimacy, ensuring that former Artsakh officials and military officers are unjustly and egregiously branded as terrorists. Azerbaijan’s charges serve a political agenda, criminalizing their struggle for self-determination—a cause not illegal under international or Azerbaijani law. With little evidence, these individuals are essentially hostages.
After weeks of silence, the Armenian government has finally addressed the ongoing trials in Azerbaijan. In a statement, Armenia’s Foreign Ministry condemned the proceedings as politically motivated and marred by severe procedural violations and signs of torture, abuses already documented by international human rights organizations.
The Ministry accused Azerbaijan of using the trials to exert political pressure on Armenia and manipulate domestic public opinion, fueling anti-Armenian propaganda. It emphasized that lasting peace requires genuine efforts toward reconciliation and warned that unresolved humanitarian issues only deepen divisions. Armenia pledged to raise the issue on international platforms, advocating for accountability and justice.
Why did it take Armenia’s government weeks to issue a strong statement? Is it leveraging every political and diplomatic tool at its disposal to demand the release of its compatriots? Addressing the issue during a parliamentary Q&A last month, Prime Minister Nikol Pashinyan acknowledged the “troubling nature” of the reports coming out of Baku but stressed the need for a cautious approach and said that their task, first and foremost, is to do no harm. How much more harm could be done?
Why, apart from Ruben Vardanyan’s family, have the relatives of the detained officials remained silent, avoiding the media spotlight? They should have broad public support to campaign for the release of their loved ones, amplify their plight, and intensify political pressure on every relevant international platform. Are diasporan organizations and individuals using every channel possible to bring global attention to these trials?
The Armenian nation stands at yet another inflection point. For decades, Azerbaijan has controlled the narrative, advancing its strategic goals while we remained complacent, clinging to illusions of grandeur and invincibility. This moment is not just about Ruben Vardanyan or the other unlawfully detained officials, it is about our dignity as a nation. If we allow our compatriots to languish in the darkness of Baku’s prisons, we risk surrendering not just their fate, but a piece of our own integrity and resolve.
Yet, instead of focusing on what truly matters, we remain consumed by internal divisions, too busy undermining one another while Azerbaijan tightens its grip. This is our collective catastrophe and the time for political point-scoring has long passed.
Muted sadness or silent resignation to the fate of Artsakh’s former leaders disappearing into Azerbaijani captivity is defeatist and dangerous. If we are to reclaim the ending of this story, all that can be left is unified, unrelenting outrage.
