
The South Caucasus is once again on edge. Over a month has passed since Armenia and Azerbaijan announced a breakthrough—finalizing a draft peace treaty to end nearly four decades of hostility, war, and failed diplomacy. But rather than ushering in a new era, the deal sits unsigned. Instead of peace, the region is witnessing a dangerous buildup of forces, a flurry of accusations, and a race to lock in strategic alliances before tensions explode into open conflict.
On March 13, 2025, officials from Armenia and Azerbaijan announced they had agreed on the wording of a historic peace agreement, following years of bitter conflict over the Nagorno-Karabakh region. International leaders praised the development—U.S. President Donald Trump and French President Emmanuel Macron both hailed the accord as a turning point for the Caucasus.
But words on paper have not translated into peace on the ground.
The details of the treaty remain officially undisclosed. However, leaks and political analysis suggest Baku demanded that Armenia constitutionally recognize Azerbaijani sovereignty over Nagorno-Karabakh. This would mean a national referendum in Armenia—a politically explosive move for Prime Minister Nikol Pashinyan, whose coalition faces reelection in 2026. The provision is seen domestically as an outright surrender, effectively validating Azerbaijan’s military victories and erasing decades of Armenian political claims.
Further complicating matters, the draft agreement reportedly includes abolishing the Minsk Group, banning the European Union Monitoring Mission (EUMA), and retracting all legal claims Armenia has filed in international courts. These clauses reflect Baku’s hardline stance and a growing regional pushback against European involvement. For Armenia, it signals the loss of key international leverage; for the EU, it could mark the end of its influence in the South Caucasus.
Azerbaijan insists on a land corridor through southern Armenia—connecting its mainland to the Nakhchivan exclave. Armenia has offered alternatives, but Baku has dismissed them as inadequate. The corridor remains a core demand, and its unresolved status a major obstacle to any lasting deal.
Since the March 13 announcement, rather than moving toward implementation, the two nations have plunged into mutual recriminations. Within a day, Azerbaijan’s state-aligned media outlet Caliber.az accused Armenia of preparing for war, citing troop mobilizations and weapons acquisitions. The tone of the coverage marked a sharp shift—from diplomacy to readiness for confrontation.
Both sides have reported a rapid rise in ceasefire violations—over 30 incidents in the past month. On April 11, Azerbaijan accused Armenian forces of unprovoked attacks from multiple locations, including Syunik and Gegharkunik. Armenia quickly denied the accusations and, two days later, said Azerbaijani forces violated the ceasefire near Khnatsakh, even allegedly targeting a local cultural center.
Videos circulating on social media—particularly on Telegram and X—have intensified fears. Footage allegedly shows Armenian forces fortifying positions and deploying troops near Nakhchivan. While their authenticity cannot be independently verified, the imagery reinforces the narrative: both sides are preparing for escalation.
Amid this turbulence, a geopolitical shift is reshaping the region. In early April, Armenia conducted joint military exercises with Iran near the sensitive Nodruz border region, adjacent to Nakhchivan. Dubbed ‘Peace,’ the drills were anything but symbolic. They involved Armenia’s special forces and Iran’s elite Ashura Division of the Islamic Revolutionary Guards Corps (IRGC), underscoring deepening military ties.
Iran’s IRGC commander Valiollah Madani stated that the exercises aimed to protect “the sovereignty of neighboring countries”—a barely veiled rebuke of Azerbaijan’s territorial goals. Tehran has repeatedly made it clear: any attempt to redraw regional borders, especially in Syunik, crosses a red line.
Iranian Supreme Leader Ali Khamenei emphasized this in May 2024, calling border issues involving Armenia a national security priority. Parliament Speaker and IRGC member Mohammad Bagher Ghalibaf went even further, assuring Pashinyan that Iran would “firmly oppose” any such changes.
This rhetoric is now matched by action. In July 2024, the Long War Journal reported that Iran and Armenia signed a $500 million arms deal. The agreement includes drones—Shahed 136, 129, 197, and Mohajer models—and air defense systems like the 3rd Khordad, Majid, and Arman. For Armenia, this is a crucial upgrade after the 2020 and 2023 defeats. For Iran, it is a bold step into a region long influenced by Russia and Turkey.
While Armenia turns to Iran, Azerbaijan is deepening cooperation with Turkey and Israel—two countries with vested interests in the region’s power dynamics.
On the same days Armenia and Iran were conducting their military drills, Baku was hosting Israeli and Turkish delegations. The agenda reportedly included discussions on Syria, where Israeli strikes have targeted Turkish bases. The context is complex, but the subtext is clear: Azerbaijan, Turkey, and Israel are coordinating more closely, sharing intelligence and aligning militarily.
Turkey’s Bayraktar drones and Israeli loitering munitions were instrumental in Azerbaijan’s battlefield successes in 2020 and 2023. This alliance has only strengthened. Turkish construction firms are rebuilding territory captured from Armenia, while Israeli military tech continues to flow to Baku.
Azerbaijan has leveraged this support to push forward its regional goals, particularly around the Zangezur Corridor. For Baku, the corridor is not just about connectivity—it’s a geopolitical prize that would link Turkey to Central Asia via a direct land route, bypassing Iran.
Historically, Moscow was the main arbiter in the South Caucasus. But Russia’s preoccupation with Ukraine and Armenia’s gradual drift from the Collective Security Treaty Organization (CSTO) have weakened its grip.
Armenia’s decision to suspend participation in CSTO operations and its public criticism of Russian inaction during recent flare-ups reflect a shift in posture. With no clear security guarantees from the West, Yerevan appears to be hedging by aligning with Tehran.
This leaves a vacuum. Into it steps a more assertive Iran, a more ambitious Azerbaijan, and a more emboldened Turkey—all pursuing clashing visions of the regional order.
Despite the finalized draft of a peace treaty, war talk is growing louder than peace prospects.
Azerbaijani analysts, government-linked media, and military forums are increasingly vocal about Armenia’s alleged military preparations. Simultaneously, Armenian state outlets are highlighting Azerbaijan’s provocative moves, including troop movements and new road construction projects aimed at cutting across disputed areas.
The peace agreement’s indefinite delay only feeds uncertainty. Without progress, the risk is not just renewed fighting but a broader regional conflict involving Iran, Turkey, and possibly Israel.
The economic consequences would be severe. The South Caucasus is a critical corridor for energy exports and trade between Europe and Asia. The Baku-Tbilisi-Ceyhan pipeline and other energy infrastructure run through territories that could become frontline zones in a new war. A serious conflict could send energy prices soaring, destabilize regional currencies, and trigger mass displacement—again.
Perhaps most striking is the growing international detachment. After the March 13 announcement, there was a burst of diplomatic attention. Since then, the silence has been deafening.
With the U.S. consumed by a heated election cycle and Europe distracted by internal economic and political crises, the South Caucasus has fallen down the list of priorities. This absence of sustained diplomacy has created space for unilateral moves and military posturing.
The European Union, having invested in EUMA and regional dialogue, now finds itself sidelined. The treaty’s draft terms that reportedly call for removing EUMA monitors would be a symbolic defeat for Brussels. If implemented, it could mark a shift from European multilateralism to hard bilateralism dominated by regional powers.
The current state of affairs is a paradox: a peace treaty exists in theory but has only intensified instability in practice. Rather than cementing calm, it has exposed fault lines so deep that both sides are seemingly preparing to settle them with force.
The South Caucasus is now at a crossroads. The next few weeks will be critical. Either the momentum behind the draft treaty is revived and translated into meaningful negotiations—or the region risks sliding back into war. And this time, the conflict could draw in more actors, escalate faster, and prove far costlier than previous rounds.
Until then, the guns stay loaded, the borders tense, and the promises of peace buried under growing distrust.