In a matter of days, homes were vacated, shops closed down, and churches heard their last prayers. The ethnic cleansing of Armenians from their ancestral homelands planned by the Azeri government came to fruition.
In a matter of days, homes were vacated, shops closed down, and churches heard their last prayers. The ethnic cleansing of Armenians from their ancestral homelands planned by the Azeri government came to fruition. On September 19, 2023, Azerbaijan launched full scale military attacks on Nagorno-Karabakh (“Artsakh”), an ethnic enclave previously home to 120,000 Armenians. Overnight, they were able to seize the region by force, ending centuries of Armenian existence on the land and a 30-year contention over the region. While many international organizations were shocked by the swiftness of this ethnic cleansing to be carried out in such a methodical manner, members of the Armenian diaspora, like myself, who had been calling for attention in the region, were not. We lamented the fact that our year-long urging for humanitarian aid for the Armenian population in Artsakh fell on deaf ears to which the international community never responded. More disturbing was the aggression from the Azeri government that transpired unchecked due to the failure of international institutions to properly address ethnic cleansing.
International law is intended to be above the status of states’ interests and be abided by all participating actors on the international stage. More specifically, international humanitarian law has been developed by the international community to protect the lives of noncombatants and set clear definitions of war crimes and crimes against humanity. Surprisingly, under international law, ethnic cleansing has not been recognized as an independent crime and lacks a formal definition. The absence of clear and concise definitions provides far too much wiggle room for interpretation and abuse when it comes to acts of ethnic cleansing. The UN Commission of Experts that was tasked to look into violations of international humanitarian law in the former Yugoslavia stated that ethnic cleansing could be contextualized with specific war crimes or could fall under the Geneva Conventions, without using strong conclusive wording. In so doing, when acts of ethnic cleansing are carried out, obstruction of the law is unable to be enforced for a crime that is not officially recognized.
What distinguishes ethnic cleansing from other war crimes is the intention of removing a specific ethnic group from a given territory through force. The collapse of the Soviet Union led to the reincarnation of pre-Stalinist state ideals amongst many of the former republics. In the case of Azerbaijan, it found itself in contest with the awakened autonomous region Artsakh – a 95% Christian Armenian enclave – within its borders, which had quickly sought to reclaim its independence and rejoin with Armenia. Azerbaijan’s preference was to gain control over the land and to eliminate the Armenian presence from within its borders. Armenian history is deeply rooted in the region, with its presence there dating back to 1st century BC – 20 centuries before the founding of Azerbaijan – establishing Armenians indigenous to the land that they continued to live in right to the present. On the surface the battles may have seemed an issue over territorial conquest, but had underlying intentions of ridding Azerbaijan of its Armenian presence entirely and wiping away centuries of an entrenched identity. These actions are linked to the pan-Turkism movements of the 19th and 20th centuries, which had goals to unify the Turkic speaking nations. In the South Caucasus region, Armenia stands as the sole Christian entity between Azerbaijan and Turkey, providing a barrier between the unification of the two Turkic nations. Armenia is consequently a very vulnerable country in the South Caucasus, with very little allyship and defense from its direct neighbors.
The situation in Artsakh can be distinguished as ethnic cleansing due to the actions Azerbaijan took leading up to the September 2023 attacks. Starting on December 12, 2022, Azerbaijani protesters began blockading the Lachin corridor, a long narrow passage as well as the sole connection between Artsakh and mainland Armenia, leaving residents without essentials such as food and medication. Russian peacekeepers, who had been assigned to monitor the region, did not fulfill their obligation of protecting the integrity of the road, leading to massive food and fuel shortages, closures of institutions and critical services, and even depravity of medical care that caused upticks in miscarriages for pregnant women. Azeri authorities in the region did not heed pleas from the limited number of international humanitarian organizations to open the routes. Without their necessary support from mainland Armenia, citizens in Artsakh were unable to sustain livelihood. Human rights watch groups such as Amnesty International and the Council on Foreign Relations called for attention to end the blockade, as “severe deprivation of liberty” is a crime against humanity as outlined by the Rome Statute; but democratic states, who in spirit promote recognition of international law, did not step in. Though ethnic cleansing falls into the umbrella of a crime against humanity, it has no legal definition in international criminal law. Azerbaijan openly performed the violent acts of September 2023, as well as the preceding blockade, leaving the region devoid of 120,000 Armenians in the span of less than a week.
Since agreeing to the dissolution of Artsakh, Armenia has taken steps to protect its sovereignty and prevent further encroachment. In October 2023, Armenia ratified the Rome Statute and agreed to join the International Criminal Court (ICC). The implications are varied, as Armenia should now have further protection from an international institution that is committed to multilateral peace and security; however, this solidifies the strain in the relationship between Armenia and Russia. Members of the ICC are committed to the arrest warrant of President Vladimir Putin for his abduction of Ukrainian children, meaning that Putin will no longer be allowed to visit Armenia. Ultimately, joining the ICC strengthens Armenia’s chances of having a law case against Azerbaijan, who is not a member of the ICC. Perhaps this will also shift the procedural norms in the region, to believing that decisions should be made through international institutions such as the ICC instead of direct dealings with Russia or Turkey – two third-party countries with influence and other motives. For us as diasporan Armenians, we can only hope that this will also lead to a shift in regulative norms for Armenia and Azerbaijan that leads to peace and stability in the region.
International law does matter and is a necessary tool to protect weaker states from abuses deployed by more powerful states. In a world dictated by anarchy, the institution of international law maintains order and prevents discourse. It is imperative for stronger states to comply with international law and uphold it in order to encourage smaller states to do the same. The problems arise when crimes are not clearly defined and not formally ratified into law. With vagueness comes the ability for crimes to be committed and swept under the rug. Believing in the power of international law is important, but it can only be sustained when we see international law truly working to protect those that need additional protection. Language that spells out the harmful effects of targeting specific people groups may further their ability to maintain autonomy and sovereignty from stronger threats.
