HistoryofTruth.com - Armenian Allegations

Brief snatches of color — a washing line, a passing car — break up the mass of rubble that was Agdam. A handful of Armenians live off scrap metal and pipes plundered from the ruins of this Azerbaijani town, razed in 1993 as Armenian forces in the mountain region of Nagorno-Karabakh fought to split from Azerbaijan.

Largely forgotten by the outside world since, the remote territory is now the center of diplomatic attention because it could torpedo a fragile peace deal between historic enemies Armenia and Turkey.

Diplomats and analysts say it is on the ghostly remains of Agdam and other Azerbaijani towns held by Armenian forces that stability in the wider South Caucasus region — a key transit route for non-Arab oil and gas to the West — depends. International mediators and Turkey want the Armenians to return many of their conquests to Azerbaijan. Turkey has said its peace agreement with Armenia cannot advance unless this happens.

The conquered territories run across seven Azerbaijani districts in a long strip of land connecting Armenia to Nagorno-Karabakh and the Armenians are in no mood to give them up. “It was free land,” said Gena, an Armenian who grazes cows in a former Azerbaijani town now returning to nature. “This land was hard to conquer. To give it back is easier, but unfair.”

The war killed 30,000 people and displaced 1 million. A cease-fire was agreed in 1994, and Nagorno-Karabakh declared itself independent. But no country recognized it, and the specter of fresh conflict is never far away.

“Nagorno-Karabakh was the first [Armenian] military victory in 2,000 years. It's awfully hard psychologically to climb down from that,” said Richard Giragosian, the American head of the Armenian Center for National and International Studies.

Diplomats say that under peace principles being negotiated by Armenia and Azerbaijan, at least five of the districts would be returned, in exchange for greater international legitimacy for Nagorno-Karabakh and a future popular vote to decide its status. A trio of United States, French and Russian mediators say they are closer to a deal than ever before.

But years of official secrecy surrounding the talks and zero Western engagement on the ground has seen sentiments harden in Nagorno-Karabakh. Its leaders are barred from direct participation in the negotiations due to Azerbaijani opposition. “They [Azerbaijanis] should understand that this is all Armenian land,” said Luda Airapetyan, a 59-year-old Armenian and former school teacher in the Nagorno-Karabakh town of Shusha, 15 kilometers (nine miles) from the breakaway capital Stepanakert. “We took those lands with blood, and we must keep them.”

Shusha is a shadow of the 19th century town once among the greatest in the Caucasus. During the 1990s war, Azerbaijanis used its 700-meter height advantage over Stepanakert to pound the Armenian stronghold, before Shusha also fell.

Snipers, minefields For Shusha and the rest of Nagorno-Karabakh, the seven surrounding districts represent a security guarantee against an Azerbaijani attack and a vital land corridor to Armenia. Nagorno-Karabakh survives almost totally on budget support from Armenia and donations from the huge Armenian diaspora, but rejects trading its “independence” for the prospect of sharing in Azerbaijan's burgeoning oil revenues.

Fifteen years of fragile peace has seen the seven Azerbaijani regions effectively absorbed into Nagorno-Karabakh proper, indistinguishable on maps sold by the de facto foreign ministry. “They can decide for us, of course,” de facto Foreign Minister Georgi Petrosyan said of the negotiations. “But all the proposed variants are far removed from real life.”

Turkey wants Armenia to give ground to Azerbaijan before Ankara ratifies a deal to establish diplomatic ties and reopens its border with Armenia, which was closed in solidarity with Ankara's ally Azerbaijan in 1993.

But with the Armenian opposition condemning the thaw with its Turkish foe, analysts say concessions on Nagorno-Karabakh are even more unpalatable for Armenian President Serzh Sarksyan, formerly the wartime commander of the breakaway territory.

Instead, soldiers continue to die on the frontline, picked off by snipers and hidden ordnance in a warren of trenches and minefields. Observers estimate around 30 died in 2008, including up to 16 in one clash in March, the worst in years. “The status quo is better than what's being offered,” said Masis Mayilian, director of the Foreign and Security Policy Council think tank in Stepanakert.

But to tread water is dangerous in the Caucasus, where a 16-year stalemate in rebel South Ossetia broke down in war last year between Russia and Georgia. Azerbaijan is increasing its army on the back of oil revenues and frequently threatens force. “The war is not over yet,” Azerbaijani President Ilham Aliyev was quoted as saying last month. “We must be prepared at any minute to free our lands from the occupiers.”

The Armenian center's Giragosian said war could come in 10 to 12 years if the situation does not improve and Baku assumes military superiority. “What worries me is not an official decision to go to war, but limited skirmishes that spiral out of control,” he said.