PASHINYAN'S 'JUDICIAL SCARE'

A trial is not typically a spectacular event. It is often laden with procedural subtleties, even bordering on bureaucracy. However, when a sensation occurs within such a setting, its ripple effects can trigger a political tsunami. This aptly describes the ongoing 'Azerbaijani Nuremberg' in Baku—the trial of the top figures from the overthrown opposition junta. This trial has the potential to cause a significant 'political earthquake' in Yerevan. Recent statements by Armenian Prime Minister Nikol Pashinyan provide ample food for thought in this regard.

'Psychotropic Hallucinations'

In late January, when the trial had just commenced, the head of the Armenian government stated in an interview with the Public Television of Armenia that 'what is happening (in Baku—Ed.) is not only of serious concern but is also being used to start a new escalation in the region. Moreover, we have intelligence that banned psychotropic substances are being used against these individuals to extract evidence and initiate this escalation.' He added that, in his opinion, 'this trial will be used against Armenia. They can extract testimonies from them, which can be exploited to threaten Armenia. We are trying to address this issue by all possible means.'

Of course, no 'prohibited psychotropic substances' were used. The defendants have legal representation, and Ruben Vardanyan even has international lawyers. They are regularly visited by representatives of the Red Cross. If a person were under the influence of psychotropic drugs, it would be evident even without expert analysis—through facial expressions, speech, or general sluggishness. No such signs have been observed in court. Moreover, Azerbaijan has no reason to resort to such tactics. The charges are grave, and the evidence is overwhelming.

Unsurprisingly, Pashinyan's sensational claims failed to gain traction. The issue was effectively silenced. However, Pashinyan later attempted to accuse Baku of further transgressions. He asserted that Azerbaijan was holding 'dozens of Armenian prisoners of war' and claimed that 'Azerbaijan uses forbidden means against Armenian prisoners of war and subjects them to torture.' Yet, he provided no evidence to support these allegations. Both before and after Pashinyan's statement, the defendants themselves confirmed that they were satisfied with their conditions of detention and that no pressure had been applied to them.

Baku has repeatedly emphasised that the trial would address Armenia's responsibility as a state for acts of aggression, occupation, and war crimes. Initially, Yerevan chose not to respond. However, as the trial gained momentum and the defendants began to provide 'free testimony,' the atmosphere at 26 Marshal Baghramyan Street grew tense. It is hardly surprising that Nikol Pashinyan is unnerved by these revelations. The defendants are behaving in line with 'judicial stereotypes'—cooperating with the investigation, sharing details generously, and implicating one another diligently. Naturally, they are also implicating Armenian Prime Minister Nikol Pashinyan.

Revelations of Araik Harutyunyan

The testimony of Araik Harutyunyan, who served as the President of Nagorno-Garabagh during the 44-day war, warrants particular attention.

It was expected that he would deny his own social media statements, his responsibility for the rocket attacks on Ganja, and his image as the 'chief military leader' in Garabagh. The war has been lost, the junta has dissolved itself, and now the focus is on securing leniency from the Azerbaijani court.

Harutyunyan revealed in court what was already widely known: Onik Gasparyan, Chief of General Staff of the Armenian Armed Forces, was in charge of military operations in Garabagh. Harutyunyan claimed that he had little understanding of what was happening at the front. On 2 October, he decided to visit the frontlines but only met with soldiers at a safe distance from the line of contact.

Another notable statement from Harutyunyan was his claim that he had participated in a meeting with Nikol Pashinyan on the eve of the war. Following this meeting, he concluded that Armenia lacked the resources to wage war against Azerbaijan.

As the saying goes, victory has many fathers, while defeat is an orphan. On the Armenian side, many who were directly involved in directing the fighting are now portraying themselves as visionaries. Onik Gasparyan, for instance, claimed that after the liberation of Jabrayil, he realised the war was lost and that the Armenian army had 'broken its back,' necessitating an end to the fighting. Harutyunyan went further, asserting in court that he had known even before the war began that Armenia would lose. This raises the question: why did the war start in the first place? Why did Yerevan not attempt to revive the negotiation process and make meaningful concessions? Why did the war continue until 9 November 2020? Who bears responsibility for this decision?

Harutyunyan's testimony sheds light on these questions. He claimed that by early October, he had already considered ending the war and discussed this with Bako Sahakyan and Arkady Ghukasyan. The defendants planned to write a letter to Azerbaijani President Ilham Aliyev proposing a ceasefire. On 18 October, Harutyunyan, along with Ghukasyan and Sahakyan, discussed the situation with Nikol Pashinyan. Following this discussion, Pashinyan consulted with 'the necessary parties' and informed Harutyunyan of his decision to continue the war. What motivated this decision—whether Pashinyan believed there was still a chance to turn the tide or whether he was acting under external orders—remains a topic for further exploration.

The Crumbling Image of 'Peacekeepers'

Harutyunyan's claims of 'peace initiatives' are met with scepticism, particularly given rumours that emerged by mid-October suggesting that some generals, faced with defeats on the frontlines, were prepared to negotiate separately with Azerbaijan. It is plausible that Harutyunyan was among them. Meanwhile, the Armenian opposition, including the Dashnaks and Serzh Sargsyan's 'Republican Party,' demanded the creation of a 'headquarters to manage military and political issues,' incorporating former and current 'presidents of Garabagh,' Armenian presidents, and heads of the Foreign Ministry and Defence Ministry. In practical terms, this would have meant transferring full power to the Garabagh clan. Against this backdrop, Harutyunyan's claims of peacemaking appear dubious.

From the outset, Azerbaijan set clear terms for a ceasefire: if Armenia provided a timetable for the withdrawal of troops from occupied Azerbaijani territories, hostilities would cease immediately. President Ilham Aliyev reiterated this in numerous addresses and interviews. However, Harutyunyan's proposed letter made no mention of troop withdrawal, rendering his alleged 'peace initiative' meaningless. His attempt to portray himself as a 'peacemaker' crumbled from the start.

The greatest damage, however, is to Pashinyan's image. According to Harutyunyan, it was Pashinyan who decided to continue the war on 18-19 October.

'Dove of Peace' or Aggressor?

By 18 October, the situation on the frontlines was dire for Armenia. Jabrayil had been liberated on 4 October, Hadrut—a key strategic point in the mountainous part of Garabagh—on 9 October, Fuzuli on 17 October, and the Khudafar Bridge on 18 October. It was evident that the Azerbaijani army's weaponry was a generation ahead of Armenia's. To continue the war under such circumstances was not just madness—it was a crime against one's own people.

Pashinyan had previously cultivated the image of a hardline supporter of Garabagh with slogans like 'Garabagh is Armenia, and that's it!' This rhetoric was aimed at a domestic audience. Internationally, however, he sought to project the image of a 'peace supporter,' a role he had been crafting since coming to power. This image is crucial now, as negotiations for a peace agreement between Baku and Yerevan enter a decisive phase. However, there is growing evidence that Armenia, following its defeat, is preparing not for peace but for revenge.

Against this backdrop, it is clear why the Armenian Prime Minister is so alarmed by the revelations emerging from the 'Azerbaijani Nuremberg.' Pashinyan's inner circle must realise that these confessions cannot be refuted. Their only recourse is to attempt to discredit the court, fabricating claims about 'psychotropic substances,' 'torture,' and the like. Stories about psychics, hypnotists, and voodoo witches may well follow.