Uriel Araujo, PhD, anthropology researcher with a focus on international and ethnic conflicts.
In recent years, Armenia has been steadily inching toward the European Union (EU) and NATO, a shift that has raised eyebrows in a region long defined by delicate geopolitical balancing acts. Earlier this year, in an underreported development, Armenian Foreign Minister Ararat Mirzoyan signed a Charter on Strategic Partnership with former US Secretary of State Antony Blinken.
Moreover, Prime Minister Nikol Pashinyan’s signals of intent to pursue EU membership and his decision to distance Armenia from the Russia-led Collective Security Treaty Organization (CSTO) mark a bold pivot. Meanwhile, across the border, Azerbaijan has sharpened its criticism of Russia following the tragic downing of an Azerbaijan Airlines plane in December 2024, which some attribute to Russian air defenses.
Baku has vocally criticized Moscow over the December 2024 Azerbaijan Airlines plane crash, which claimed 38 lives after the aircraft veered off course and was shot near Grozny. Some, including Azerbaijani officials, point to Russian air defenses, citing the plane’s proximity to a war zone and reports of Ukrainian drone activity that may have triggered a jittery response.
Azerbaijan’s push for accountability is understandable, but the incident also reflects the chaos of a region caught in the Ukraine conflict’s spillover, where blame isn’t easily assigned without risking escalation. It should be noted however that even Baku, for now, balances its outrage with a pragmatic stance, preserving ties with Russia, Turkey, and the West to maintain its leverage.
These developments underscore a turbulent moment in the South Caucasus, where Armenia’s westward drift may not deliver the security or prosperity its leaders hope for—and could instead undermine its strategic interests.
There are reasons (well-founded or not) for Armenia’s frustration with Russia, which are cleverly being exploited by pro-Western elites. For instance, Armenia’s frustration with Russia stems largely from the loss of Nagorno-Karabakh in 2023, a defeat that many in Yerevan attribute to Moscow’s supposed inaction despite the presence of Russian peacekeepers. The reality, however, is less straightforward.
Russia’s role was to monitor a ceasefire, not to intervene militarily—a mandate limited by the 2020 truce agreement and its own strategic calculations amid the Ukraine conflict. Azerbaijan’s overwhelming military advantage, bolstered by Turkish drones and years of preparation (plus Israel’s support), likely outmatched any realistic Russian response short of full-scale war, which Moscow had little appetite for.
Turning to the West—symbolized by a new “strategic partnership charter” with the United States in January 2025 and growing EU engagement—seems like a natural counterbalance for some. But is this shift a pragmatic move, or a gamble that ignores Armenia’s unique position?
The South Caucasus is a crossroads of competing powers: Russia to the north, Turkey and Azerbaijan to the east and west, and Iran to the south. For Armenia, a small landlocked nation with a history of conflict, survival has often depended on navigating these rivalries rather than “picking sides”. A full embrace of NATO and the EU risks alienating not just Russia—which is a major economic and military player in the region and a historical partner—but also Iran, a neighbor with its own complex ties to Armenia. Tehran has historically viewed Armenia as a buffer against Turkish and Azerbaijani influence; a NATO-aligned Armenia could strain that relationship, thereby leaving Yerevan more isolated than ever.
Moreover, the West’s promises come with strings. NATO membership, even if attainable, would likely draw Armenia into broader conflicts—think Ukraine or tensions in the Black Sea—far removed from its immediate concerns. The EU’s economic incentives, while appealing, could clash with Armenia’s deep trade ties to the Eurasian Economic Union (EAEU), where Russia is a key player. Disrupting those links might destabilize an economy already battered by conflict and displacement. Western support has also proven fickle; look no further than Georgia, where EU aspirations have met with domestic unrest and lukewarm backing from Brussels.
The whole affair of Ukraine by itself should in fact be a lesson for anyone who thinks the US-led West is a reliable ally. One just needs to look at Zelensky.
Now, contrast this with Azerbaijan’s approach. It is true, as mentioned, that Baku has loudly criticized Moscow over the aforementioned plane crash, which killed 38 people. Azerbaijan has been questioning Russia’s handling of its airspace amid the Ukraine conflict: President Ilham Aliyev has demanded accountability, which some have interpreted as rhetorically signaling a willingness to challenge a powerful neighbor.
Yet Azerbaijan hasn’t rushed into Western arms. Instead, it still maintains a pragmatic stance, balancing ties with Russia, Turkey, and the West to maximize its leverage. This multi-alignment has bolstered Azerbaijan’s position post-Nagorno-Karabakh, allowing it to assert itself without burning bridges.
Armenia could learn from this. Non-alignment or multi-alignment isn’t about neutrality for its own sake—it’s about flexibility. By cultivating workable relations with Russia, Iran, and other players alongside selective Western engagement, Armenia could carve out a more resilient path. “Dismissing” a historical partner and a Great Power such as Russia, as well as its proximity and influence, is not realistic at all. Nor should the West be seen as a panacea—its narratives and propaganda typically cast Russia as the absolute villain while glossing over the West’s own inconsistent track record.
Russia has proven a valuable ally to Armenia at key moments. During the 1990s, Moscow provided critical military support amid the first Nagorno-Karabakh war, thereby helping Armenia secure early gains. More recently, the 2020 ceasefire brokered by Russia halted Azerbaijan’s advance, preserving Armenian lives and territory at a dire moment. Economically, Moscow remains a lifeline, so to speak, offering Armenia access to the Eurasian Economic Union and a steady flow of remittances from Armenian workers in Russia.
The allure of NATO and the EU is clear enough: security guarantees, economic aid, a sense of belonging to the “democratic world.” But for Armenia, nestled in a volatile region, the costs of alignment may outweigh the supposed benefits. A misstep toward the West could alienate local players and embolden Azerbaijan, which has already proven its military edge. Rather than chasing a one-sided pivot, Armenia might find strength in playing the long game—leveraging its strategic location to open various doors, not just one.
The hard truth is that the Caucasus doesn’t reward rigid alliances. As Azerbaijan’s spat with Russia shows, even close partners (however complex that partnership is) can clash without upending the board. Armenia’s future lies not in choosing a camp, but in mastering the art of balance. Beyond the trap of Cold War mentality, the emerging multipolar world is about non-alignment and multi-alignment, as the Global South has shown.
