Azernews.Az

Elnur Enveroglu

Read more

Armenian Prime Minister Nikol Pashinyan has once again surprised both his domestic audience and international observers with a striking shift in rhetoric. Speaking at the “Comprehensive Security and Resilience 2025” international conference, he asserted that military power should not be considered the principal instrument of national security. He further underlined the potential benefits of opening borders and communication lines, specifically acknowledging the transformative promise of the Zangazur Corridor—also referred to as the Trump International Peace and Prosperity Route (TRIPP).

On the surface, such remarks appear to be a welcome departure from Yerevan’s habitual militarism and obstructionism. For decades, Armenia’s leaders relied heavily on the doctrine of “security through force,” using the occupation of Azerbaijani lands as both a bargaining chip and a psychological crutch. Pashinyan himself was not immune to this mindset. Until very recently, his government channelled significant state resources into militarisation, acquiring heavy artillery systems and maintaining an inflated defence budget despite Armenia’s declining economy. Yet now, in 2025, he tells his people, also, the wider international community, that armies do not bring security.

The question is whether this volte-face signals a genuine recognition of geopolitical reality, or whether it is merely a tactical narrative designed to buy time and ease external pressure.

The context is important. Since the dramatic meetings in Abu Dhabi and Washington earlier this year, Azerbaijan and Armenia have been edging closer to a peace deal. With US President Donald Trump stepping in as mediator, alongside constructive involvement from other actors, Yerevan has shown an uncharacteristic willingness to accept Baku’s requirements. The signing of the Joint Declaration in Washington and the dissolution of the long-defunct Minsk Group were historic milestones, effectively burying the old conflict resolution format that Armenia had once used to stall genuine peace.

It is within this shifting diplomatic landscape that Pashinyan’s recent words must be situated. His acknowledgement of Azerbaijani territories once under Armenian control, and his recognition that the Zangazur Corridor could deliver benefits beyond expectation, mark a sharp rhetorical turn. For many in Baku, this appears to vindicate Azerbaijan’s steadfast approach: combine strength on the battlefield with diplomatic persistence, until Yerevan has no choice but to face reality.

Still, for many, the question of the military remains obscure, whether it reflects pragmatism or just a simple pretext…

Indeed, Pashinyan’s assertion that the military is not central to security is remarkable given Armenia’s recent history. As late as 2024, his government poured scarce resources into expanding its arsenal. New artillery, drone technology, and border fortifications were prioritised even as ordinary Armenians struggled with inflation, energy shortages, and a stagnant economy. Pashinyan justified these purchases on the grounds of “national defence” and “deterrence.”

So, what explains his new stance? There are two plausible readings.

The first is that Pashinyan has finally recognised that Armenia cannot outspend or outmanoeuvre Azerbaijan militarily. The Second Garabagh War in 2020 shattered the myth of Armenian invincibility, exposing the deep structural weaknesses of its armed forces. Since then, Azerbaijan has not only consolidated its battlefield victory but also embarked on ambitious reconstruction projects in liberated territories, projecting confidence and resilience. For Armenia, attempting to match this with an arms race would be ruinous. In this reading, Pashinyan’s words are pragmatic: a reluctant admission that security through militarisation is impossible, and that peace through diplomacy is the only realistic path.

The second interpretation is less charitable. Pashinyan may be deploying a rhetorical smokescreen, presenting himself as a man of peace while quietly attempting to rebuild and modernise Armenia’s military. By proclaiming that “the army is not important,” he might hope to reassure both domestic sceptics and international observers, all the while buying time to restore capacity. History offers ample examples of leaders who preached peace publicly while preparing for war privately.

Which interpretation holds true? Only time will tell. However, one must ask: if Pashinyan truly believed in the futility of military power, why did he wait until after costly arms acquisitions to declare it? Why did he direct disproportionate funds to defence when his people demanded socio-economic reforms? These contradictions cast doubt on his sincerity.

Still, it would be wrong to dismiss all of Pashinyan’s words as empty. His support for opening borders and communication lines aligns with a tangible regional logic. The Zangazur Corridor (named as the Trump Route of International Peace and Prosperity), cutting through southern Armenia to link Azerbaijan with Nakhchivan and Türkiye, represents not only a strategic lifeline for Baku but also a potential boon for Yerevan. If operationalised under international guarantees, the corridor could transform Armenia from a landlocked and isolated state into a transit hub. Pashinyan’s statement that its benefits would exceed expectations is not mere rhetoric, but it is backed by economic reality.

The corridor is of great significance for Azerbaijan. It is a sign of the transformation of the South Caucasus, which has long been a hotbed of conflict, into a leading strategic point in the global arena. Azerbaijan has been fighting for this goal for years, because all achievements begin with ensuring peace in the South Caucasus. In addition, the concept of the corridor gives the concept of a bridge between the eastern and western parts of our world in all terms. Azerbaijan's ambition is not monotonous; that is, it does not include the economic interests of one country. It is parallel to larger geostrategic interests.

Moreover, for Azerbaijan, the corridor strengthens the unity of the Turkic world and cements its role as a pivotal bridge between Asia and Europe. For Armenia, it offers the prospect of ending decades of isolation, attracting foreign investment, and diversifying economic partners beyond an overbearing dependence on Russia. By endorsing this project, Pashinyan signals a willingness to trade ideological rigidity for pragmatic gain.

As regards the peace prospects, we can assume that the coming days and months will be decisive. If Pashinyan’s words translate into sustained action, such as implementing the Joint Declaration, opening borders, and harmonising Armenia’s constitution with peace commitments, then a new era may indeed dawn in the South Caucasus. For Azerbaijan, this would validate years of principled diplomacy coupled with resolute defence of sovereignty.

But on the other hand, we cannot ignore the processes within Armenia, especially the reactions to Pashinyan's steps in line with Baku's wishes. He faces internal opposition from hardliners who view any concession as betrayal. His balancing act between appeasing international partners and placating domestic critics may tempt him into rhetorical manoeuvring rather than genuine reform. Moreover, Armenia’s historical reliance on external patrons, whether Russia in the past or new Western sympathisers today, creates the risk of mixed signals and half-measures.

For Baku, the prudent course is vigilance. Azerbaijan should welcome Armenia’s newfound peace rhetoric but insist on concrete, verifiable steps: the demarcation of borders, the opening of transport routes, and the alignment of Armenia’s domestic legislation with peace commitments. Only deeds, not words, can guarantee that the era of militarism is truly over.

There might be plenty of speculations regarding Pashinyan’s statement that the military is not the foundation of security, as it looks striking and puzzling. It could reflect a pragmatic acceptance of Armenia’s limitations, or it could be a calculated illusion designed to ease pressure while Yerevan regroups. His endorsement of the Zangazur Corridor, however, is harder to dismiss, as the economic rationale is undeniable.

Ultimately, whether Pashinyan is sincere or not matters less than whether Armenia implements the peace commitments already made. Azerbaijan, confident in its strength and guided by clear strategic goals, will continue to insist on real progress. For the South Caucasus, the prize is immense: a durable peace that unlocks prosperity, connectivity, and regional integration. For Armenia, it is nothing less than a choice between modernisation and marginalisation.