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Elnur Enveroglu

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The Russians have a rather amusing and mind-bogglingly peculiar doll, famous under its own name: the russkiy matryoshka. Whenever you lift the lid of one, another identical doll emerges from inside. The peculiar feature of this strange toy is that, no matter how many times you take it apart, the replicas never seem to end.

Political figures who have defended the Armenian diaspora and separatist elements throughout the former Armenia-Azerbaijan conflict, both in the past and today, bear a striking resemblance to this Russian nesting doll. Wherever you go, you encounter another figure cut from the same cloth. It makes little difference whether it is France, Lithuania or the other side of the Atlantic. They are bound together by the same mould, the same ideological reflexes and, more often than not, the same political cause. Take, for instance, Lithuania’s former foreign minister, Gabrielius Landsbergis.

Image: Julius Kalinskas / ELTA

Interestingly, the French ambassador to Lithuania, Lucie Stepanyan, has awarded former Lithuanian foreign minister Gabrielius Landsbergis the Knight’s Cross of the French Legion of Honour.

The decision is particularly noteworthy given Landsbergis’s position on the Armenia-Azerbaijan conflict during his tenure as Lithuania’s foreign minister. Under Landsbergis, Lithuania was among the European countries that openly supported Armenia and adopted positions favourable to Armenian separatist forces in the Karabakh region of Azerbaijan.

In 2024, Landsbergis made a number of anti-Azerbaijani statements at the Parliamentary Assembly of the Council of Europe. A year earlier, he announced that Lithuania would provide €350,000 in humanitarian aid to Armenia for people who had left Karabakh.

Against this backdrop, France’s decision to honour Landsbergis raises questions about the political message behind the award, particularly given France’s own controversial approach to the Armenia-Azerbaijan conflict.

Of course, such honours promoted and circulated by the Armenian diaspora are hardly unprecedented. On the contrary, awards granted for such services, as in the case of the former Lithuanian foreign minister, have a familiar ring to them. There has been no shortage of political figures in the European Parliament who, in return for money and expensive gifts, as well as figures in the US Congress during the Biden administration and before, who turned the institutions of politics into a marketplace of influence, have openly championed such causes. There were many members of Congress who received certificates from an organisation known as ANCA and who went to extraordinary lengths to defend Armenia’s political narrative despite being oblivious to the country's geographical position.

It is well known that material interests have always played a powerful role in political groupings. Some seek to secure their electoral base, others to climb the political ladder, while others seek to surround themselves with powerful defenders on the political stage. Without necessarily delving deeply into the ideology behind the causes they champion, they defend the ambitions of those who can advance their own political interests. What is disappointing, however, is that such people pursue this course without considering the image and long-term interests of their own countries. Lithuania is a case in point. By taking an openly anti-Azerbaijani line at the level of its foreign ministry after Azerbaijan's tremendous victory over separatism and occupation, it left a stain on its relationship with Azerbaijan. Gabrielius Landsbergis may have left office, but the mark he left behind has not been erased. Today, from official Brussels to Washington, Azerbaijan’s legitimate position is increasingly being acknowledged and defended, yet the scars left behind remain part of the historical record as a diplomatic miscalculation by a country such as Lithuania.

As for Lucie Stepanyan, it is increasingly difficult to escape the impression that she has failed to represent France in a manner befitting the office she holds. Her position appears to be marked less by an effort to encourage reconciliation and more by a persistent defence of separatist narratives and attempts to breathe new life into a conflict that Armenia and Azerbaijan have already begun to leave behind. Indeed, for such an initiative, it would almost be fitting to bestow upon Lucie Stepanyan the title of goddess of war. It is no coincidence that Stepanyan was also awarded the silver grade of the Medal of Honour of France’s Ministry for Europe and Foreign Affairs for her services following the outbreak of the war in Ukraine.

A comprehensive look at this diplomat’s career makes one thing abundantly clear: her interest in conflicts runs remarkably deep.