Thick fog clings to the slopes of Shurnukh, but the division of this mountain village can be seen immediately. Three different flags greet you upon entering: the Armenian on a hill, the Azerbaijani one 50 meters further down. However, it is a third power that decides whether a visitor's journey may continue.

«Your documents, please,» says a voice in Russian. It is a young officer, somewhat surprised at the visit, who has emerged from behind a camouflage net. His uniform identifies him as a member of the Russian border troops who monitor the borders of this mountainous country under an agreement with Armenia. A new-looking armored personnel carrier with the Russian flag underlines who is ensuring a precarious calm here, 2,000 kilometers south of Moscow.

At 1,400 meters above sea level, the drastic changes brought about by the Armenian-Azerbaijani war of autumn 2020 can be seen here from up close. Until then, the village had been far from the front lines. The fact that in communist times someone had drawn an administrative border between the Soviet republics of Armenia and Azerbaijan right here played no role in the everyday life of the 150 inhabitants.

For decades after the collapse of the Soviet Union, Armenians ruled on both sides of the main road – the authorities of the Republic of Armenia in the upper part, and those of the Armenian pseudo-state of Nagorno-Karabakh, which had broken away from Azerbaijan, below. This changed abruptly with the Armenian defeat two years ago: Azerbaijan gained control over seven districts in the west of the country, and Shurnukh suddenly became a divided border village.

When the new masters took position below the road, they forced an exodus from that part of the village. «They just came one morning and gave us until midnight to leave our homes,» says war veteran Ararat Aghabekyan, a resident with a graying beard and military camouflage vest. Aghabekyan packed his things, but he didn’t go quietly. He set fire to his house so that it would not fall into the hands of the enemy, and posted the video of the blazing flames on the internet in protest. He loudly rails against «the Turks,» as the Azerbaijanis are often called here, and the «scoundrel» Ilham Aliyev, the authoritarian head of state of Azerbaijan.

The farmer comes back only on days like today, when he works his field in the Armenian-controlled upper part of the village. New houses are now being built there for the 13 displaced families. However, the construction, which began two years ago, is progressing slowly. This is also due to the tricky logistics; the isolated outpost of Shurnukh can only be reached with a special permit from the Armenian secret service.

Once, vital north-south transit flowed through here, in the form of extensive freight traffic with neighboring Iran, which is only 50 kilometers away as the crow flies. However, the winding road in this area runs along the Armenian-Azerbaijani border – sometimes a few meters to the left of it, sometimes on the other side. The regime in Baku is using this to assert its supremacy here as well. On the way to Shurnukh, a large blue sign at the side of the road makes it clear that we are entering Azerbaijani territory. An Armenian officer in Shurnukh contemptuously dismisses this as grandstanding. However, traffic on this route has come to an almost complete standstill.

Whereas the journey from Shurnukh to the nearest town used to take just over half an hour, those affected now have to take a detour that is four times longer on a narrow side road. Long-distance international traffic is also using this route now. At least, on a rocky spur along this route, you can admire Tatev Monastery, a historic jewel dating back to the 9th century that bears testimony to the long Armenian-Christian presence in the area.

From Tatev, Iranian trucks drive down on winding roads into a 500-meter-deep gorge before climbing up again on the other side. Some of them break down and are left at the side of the road, or are unable to pass by oncoming traffic on the bends. All this means economic losses for Armenia. However, it is harmless compared to the military threat that seems to grow daily.

It is abundantly clear that Azerbaijan is not content with the 2020 triumph, and has an appetite for more territory. Three times since that war, it has advanced into Armenian territory in short military campaigns, occupying border areas totaling 140 square kilometers, according to the government in Yerevan. These are strategic heights from which Armenian villages and roads can be shelled. This is a turning point in the decades-old conflict, because now, for the first time, the focus is not only on the fate of the disputed Nagorno-Karabakh region – the territory of the motherland Armenia itself is being called into question.

In March, the number of violations of the 2020 ceasefire agreement skyrocketed. In addition, martial rhetoric coming from Baku makes one fear the worst. Aliyev, Azerbaijan's president, has made it clear in several speeches that he doesn’t recognize Armenia's territorial integrity. At the summit meeting of Turkic states in mid-March, he portrayed the neighboring country as an artificial entity, and used the term «Western Azerbaijan» to describe it.

In particular, he regularly refers to southern Armenia as «our historic land». This brings back memories of Putin's approach in speeches dismissing the Ukrainian state as an error of history before then taking military action. Appeals for moderation from Washington and Brussels have so far failed to impress Aliyev.

Specifically, Baku is demanding the creation of a land corridor through Armenian territory to Nakhchivan, an Azerbaijani exclave on the border with Turkey. In this way, there would be a direct land connection between the two Turkic states for the first time. Armenia categorically rejects this. It offers to open east-west transit routes, but wants to retain sovereignty over its territory – and not allow uncontrolled transit, as the Azerbaijanis envision. Armenians fear that such a corridor would otherwise cut their country in two. The fact that Aliyev always speaks of the «Zangezur corridor,» thus using using the old Turkish name for southern Armenia, further reinforces the fear of territorial claims.

Who could prevent Azerbaijan from achieving its goals by force? The southern tip of Armenia is highly vulnerable militarily. At its narrowest point, the country is only 26 kilometers wide. On the roads of the region, it is notable that, despite the tensions, there are hardly any military vehicles to be seen. Armenia's army is considered grossly inferior – weakened by the 2020 defeat and burdened by supply problems, as its traditional supplier, Russia, is now short of war materiel itself.

However, Moscow still represents a power factor, not least thanks to its military presence in the country. Driving north from Shurnukh, a large new building with a Russian flag is visible, obviously a military base. Satellite photos indicate that it was created only in the last two years. However, Russia is not a reliable security guarantor for Armenia. Although the two countries are bound by a mutual defense pact, Moscow didn’t come to the rescue during the recent Azerbaijani border violations.

The consequences of this lack of protection can be observed an hour's drive further north at Jermuk. The spa and ski resort, located at 2,100 meters above sea level, owes its fame to its medicinal springs and Jermuk mineral water, which is exported to many countries. But it has been making headlines since last September primarily because of the military threat it faces. Azerbaijani troops advanced unexpectedly through mountain passes at that time, occupied an area of about 38 square kilometers and shelled the village with artillery for two days. Horrified tourists sought shelter in the basements of their hotels.

The cable car entrepreneur Armen Tadevosyan found dozens of exploded shells and rockets on his premises. He quickly had the damage to his restaurant and the ski rental house repaired, but the scars on the walls caused by bomb fragments are still visible. That winter, only one-tenth of his usual clientele showed up. «People are scared. The Azeri positions are now only 4.5 kilometers from here,» Tadevosyan says. The Armenian state subsidized the renovation work, but that didn't change the fact that the image of the resort has suffered badly, he says.

One can only speculate about the Azerbaijanis' motives. Satellite photos show that they established supply routes at altitudes of up to 3,000 meters prior to their advance. Perhaps they wanted to inflict economic damage with the shelling or terrorize the population in order to force concessions.

Tadevosyan mentions another hypothesis, which is also being considered by political scientists. A well-developed road leads from Jermuk into the valley, where it meets the main north-south axis, which is vital for Armenia. If Azerbaijani troops succeed in advancing to that point in the next attack, the entire south of the country will be cut off from supplies, the entrepreneur says. Aliyev could then dictate the terms of peace.

No matter who you talk to in Armenia, the fear of a new war is palpable. Foreign policy and strategy experts in the capital Yerevan appear dejected. The moment seems ideal for Azerbaijan to create new facts on the ground by force. Russia, Europe and America are distracted by the Ukraine war, and for the West, Azerbaijan has even gained in importance as an energy supplier as a result of that conflict.

Journalist Maria Titizian nevertheless argues for help for her adopted country with all her energy. Born in Canada as a descendant of Armenian emigrants and genocide survivors, she moved to Yerevan over 20 years ago to help shape the young Armenian state. «We’re realistic. The world doesn’t care about Armenia. But it should!» she says. Titizian, editor-in-chief of a politically rebellious online weekly magazine, speaks of a battle between David and Goliath. Armenia doesn’t want pity, she says, adding that it also has nothing to offer, certainly no petroleum. However, one thing is clear, she says: «We need Western help for our security.»