NUREMBERG TRIALS AZERBAIJANI STYLE

On January 17, the military court in Baku began proceedings that have already been dubbed the Azerbaijani Nuremberg Tribunal. The trial involves the top leaders of the ousted occupying regime, including Araik Arutyunyan and other members of the so-called government of Nagorno-Karabakh. These individuals face serious charges under Azerbaijan's Criminal Code, ranging from planning and waging aggressive war to genocide, ethnic cleansing, and terrorism. The charges include violations of Article 100 (planning, preparation, initiation, or waging of aggressive war), Article 102 (attacks on individuals and organizations under international protection), Article 103 (genocide), Article 105 (population destruction), Article 106 (slavery), Article 107 (deportation or forced resettlement of populations), Article 109 (persecution), Article 110 (forced disappearance of persons), Article 112 (deprivation of liberty in violation of international law), Article 113 (torture), Article 114 (mercenary activities), Article 115 (violation of the laws and customs of war), Article 116 (violations of international humanitarian law during armed conflicts), Article 118 (military robbery), Article 120 (premeditated murder), Article 192 (illegal entrepreneurship), and Article 214 (terrorism).

Among those facing charges is Ruben Vardanian, a Kremlin-linked oligarch who famously renounced his Russian citizenship and relocated to Nagorno-Karabakh. Vardanian gained attention for recording heartfelt video messages beneath an ancient plane tree, but now he finds himself at the centre of a sprawling legal case. He is accused of crimes such as planning and conducting aggressive war, deportation or forced resettlement of populations, persecution, deprivation of liberty in violation of international law, torture, mercenary activities, terrorism and financing of terrorism, creation of a criminal organization, violent seizure or retention of power, and violent alteration of the constitutional order.

A Historical Precedent

Many experts assert that what is unfolding in Baku is not merely the prosecution of former leaders of the occupying regime; it represents a significant historical precedent. Historically, the most famous example of prosecuting leaders following an aggressive war has been the Nuremberg Tribunal of 1945-1946. Since then, attempts have been made to replicate similar tribunals, such as the court for those guilty of genocide in Rwanda and the International Criminal Tribunal for the former Yugoslavia (ICTY) in The Hague. However, opinions on their effectiveness vary widely. Many experts argue that these tribunals fell short of the clarity and impact of Nuremberg. Investigations were often muddled, key defendants were absent, and judges at the ICTY sometimes appeared overly influenced by political considerations.

In recent years, there has been no precedent for prosecuting individuals under national legislation for crimes akin to those addressed at Nuremberg—aggressive war, genocide, and other atrocities. But Azerbaijan is now stepping into this void, creating a precedent that could resonate globally. Recall that in 2020, Azerbaijan became the first post-Soviet state to confront external aggression and occupation head-on, restoring its territorial integrity and national sovereignty. Under President Ilham Aliyev's leadership, the country achieved victory in a 44-day Patriotic War, regained full control over its borders by establishing a checkpoint in Lachin, and conducted an anti-terrorist operation in September 2023. These actions paved the way for the arrest of the leadership of the ousted occupying regime. Now, Baku has taken the next step: initiating legal proceedings against them.

Personal and State Responsibility

The trial against the leaders of the occupying regime underscores that this is not just about holding individuals like Araik Arutyunian, Ruben Vardanian, and Arkady Ghukasyan accountable. It is also about establishing legal responsibility for Armenia as a state for its role in aggressive war, occupation of territories, ethnic cleansing, urban destruction, and more. It is no secret that Armenian fighters operated in Nagorno-Karabakh in the early 1990s. In recent years, the occupying regime was funded directly from Armenia's state budget, and Armenian conscripts were sent to serve in the occupied territories. For instance, the son of Armenian Prime Minister Nikol Pashinyan, Ashot, served in Nagorno-Karabakh. Weapons were transferred from Armenia to the region, often disguised as "construction materials" or "humanitarian aid." Key decisions were made in Yerevan, and Pashinyan's drunken dances in Shusha alongside his declaration that “Karabakh is Armenia—period” are now part of the legal narrative.

One pivotal aspect of the trial will likely be the investigation into rocket attacks on residential areas in Azerbaijani cities. During the 44-day war, Araik Arutyunyan posted on social media taking responsibility for strikes on Ganja, but he now denies having any authority to do so. While predicting the verdict before the trial concludes is impossible, Arutyunyan's contradictory statements suggest that the proceedings could reveal new information and spark scandals.

A Trial Lost Before It Begins?

Some observers, including international legal experts, may expect a dramatic courtroom showdown reminiscent of Hollywood films. Azerbaijan, however, has ensured that defendants' rights are fully upheld, including conditions of detention, access to lawyers, and availability of interpreters. Yet questions remain about whether all defence teams and interpreters are adequately prepared for such a complex adversarial process. Statements from Ruben Vardanian's defence counsel indicate potential challenges.

From the moment the leaders of the occupying regime were arrested, official Yerevan and the Armenian lobby launched a vigorous campaign demanding their immediate release. These individuals have been described as "Armenian captives" or "detainees," but it is clear to many—not just skilled attorneys—that they do not qualify as prisoners of war. They are charged with serious crimes against Azerbaijan and its citizens and must answer to the court.

It appears that both the defendants and their defenders underestimated Azerbaijan's resolve, perhaps due to Armenia's historical reliance on lobbying and propaganda. This stereotype may have been formed in the late 1980s when Armenia had established robust lobbying mechanisms while Azerbaijan was still part of the USSR. Today, however, the situation is fundamentally different. Azerbaijan has moved beyond being a passive player on the international stage, and demands for the release of Arutyunian, Ghukasyan, or Vardanian are unlikely to sway Baku. Launching aggressive wars, committing war crimes, engaging in ethnic cleansing, and destroying cities represent a red line for Azerbaijan—a position it will not abandon despite criticism from figures like former International Criminal Court prosecutor Luis Moreno Ocampo or blogger Lindsay Snell.

In Yerevan—and among the defenders of those accused in this "Azerbaijan's Nuremberg Trial"—there was a widespread belief that a real trial would never take place. Now that serious defences are required, signs of disarray are evident. What should be done? How can one defend against such grave accusations in an Azerbaijani court where negotiation is not an option?

The ongoing trial in Baku spells further trouble for Armenian Prime Minister Nikol Pashinyan. Local opposition is fiercely criticizing him: how could he allow this trial to proceed without securing the release of the former leaders of the occupying regime from "Baku's dungeons"? While some of these criticisms may be unfair—efforts were indeed made in Yerevan to secure their release—the reality is that Azerbaijan's position could not be easily undermined. Pashinyan had limited options from the outset and lacked the leverage to mount a significant campaign to pressure Baku effectively. The theatrical lamentations of human rights advocates, Armenian lobbyists, and Russian liberal intellectuals have made little impression on Baku—and they are unlikely to do so in the future.

And this is just the beginning of troubles for Yerevan.