After 18 months of public inquiry, the Foreign Interference Commission, commonly known as the Hogue Commission, published a report highlighting extensive patterns of foreign interference and transnational repression in Canada. The report underscored how certain ethnic communities have been actively targeted by foreign governments, including Iran, India, China, and, to a lesser extent, Russia. The Security and Intelligence Threats to Elections (SITE) Task Force has highlighted the impact of transnational repression on electoral processes in Canada, notably in the case of Joe Tay, the Conservative Party candidate for Don Valley North in 2025.

Both the Canadian Security Intelligence Service (CSIS) and the Royal Canadian Mounted Police (RCMP) have become increasingly involved in investigating cases of transnational repression affecting ethnic communities, including the high-profile murder of Hardeep Singh Nijjar in Surrey, British Columbia, in 2023. The report further contributed to the creation of the , responsible for administering and enforcing the provisions of the Foreign Influence Transparency and Accountability Act (FITAA).

The Government of Canada identifies Iran among the state actors conducting in the country, citing assassination plots, harassment of dissidents, and digital threats. In 2026, against the backdrop of widespread domestic political protests and direct military hostilities involving the United States (US) and Israel, anticipate that pressure on diaspora communities will intensify, citing a documented pattern in which periods of domestic instability are followed by increased activity abroad. Analysts read this pattern as an attempt to mitigate internal vulnerabilities while extending diaspora coercion as a component of broader hybrid conflict with Western states.

At the margins of, and often overlooked within, discussions of transnational repression, violence and intimidation occurring within ethnic communities continue to take place in Canada and other Western countries. This form of violence remains understudied and frequently falls between the mandates of national security agencies and local law enforcement. Because this type of violence comprises transnational repression, hate crimes and incidents, and local crime, an overall understanding of the trends and comparative analysis between countries is difficult to establish.

This white paper uses open-source intelligence to document escalating patterns of physical violence, intimidation, activism, and online harassment within the Iranian diaspora following the January 2026 domestic protests and US-Israeli war against Iran which has been ongoing since February. By doing so, we further investigate Iranian diaspora fragmentation beyond the highly visible transnational repression, providing security and law enforcement agencies a better overall understanding of security dynamics in Canada. Furthermore, if experts forecast a growing threat to Iranian Canadians from the Iranian government through 2026, a more comprehensive understanding of intra-community tensions and patterns of polarization will be essential for accurately assessing risks and developing appropriate policy responses.

The Iranian Diaspora in Canada: Polarization and Fragmentation in 2026

Since January 2026, Canada’s Iranian diaspora has mobilized on a significant scale. Roughly in Ottawa on 11 January, and an estimated on 14 February. While largely peaceful, these demonstrations highlighted growing ideological friction among different groups within the diaspora. Following the beginning of American and Israeli strikes on Iran in February 2026, also known as Operation “Epic Fury,” the Iranian diaspora in Canada became increasingly polarized. On 1 March, about in Calgary to oppose the American and Israeli strikes; an hour later, . The possibility of political transition, prompted by either domestic collapse or foreign intervention, has catalyzed intra-diaspora rivalry as competing groups seek to advance distinct political outcomes.

Political disagreement within Canada’s Iranian diaspora has hardened into a question of loyalty, dividing the community over foreign military intervention, the shape of a post-Republic Iran, and who counts as a legitimate opponent of the government. Since January 2026, street-level protests have largely split along two main axes: first, between monarchist (Pahlavist) demonstrators and those displaying pro-government or non-aligned symbols; and second, within the opposition itself, spanning monarchist right-wing groups, pro-democracy advocates, ethnic minority movements, and Mojahedin-aligned groups. 

The Pahlavists are the largest group in the 2026 mobilization. They support the return of Reza Pahlavi, the exiled son of the last shah. Within the broader pro-monarchy Pahlavi movement, a hardline nationalist element has increasingly asserted itself. This wing openly endorses more aggressive foreign policy measures against Tehran, including aligned Israeli-American military action, while displaying hostility toward political rivals in and other Western countries. Pro-Pahlavi forces increasingly embrace hardline rhetoric, reflected in the chant The slogan groups leftist and Mojahed opposition movements together with the clerical establishment, portraying all three as equal targets of opposition. This extremist wing has expanded rapidly since January 2026, coordinating across social media and establishing a physical presence at demonstrations throughout Western Europe and North America. Some branches march in , which has drawn controversy. This group often aligns with right-wing movements in Europe and North America and supports the American and Israeli strikes on Iran. It also polices its own side, rejecting supporters who would accept Pahlavi’s return as a civilian political figure rather than as monarch.

The second protest group consists of a loosely affiliated pro-democracy current, including republicans, anti-war activists, and those organizing under the 2022 slogan “Woman, Life, Freedom.” The slogan became the rallying cry of the that followed the death of Mahsa Amini, a 22-year-old woman, in September 2022, three days after her arrest by Iran’s Guidance Patrol over failing to wear her hijab according to state standards. For those in this camp, the slogan expresses a demand for women’s rights and personal freedoms. While these groups differ on the governance model for a future Iran, they share a rejection of both the Islamic Republic and a restored monarchy. However, monarchist activists often collapse these internal distinctions, framing diverse critics across this spectrum as leftists or Islamic Republic sympathizers. reported in February that aides to Reza Pahlavi in the US had pushed supporters to remove references to the Woman, Life, Freedom slogan from their social media accounts on the grounds that it is associated with a leftist and feminist agenda. In a video circulated on social media of a demonstration in Vancouver in February 2026, organizers barred the slogan, while a man leading the demonstration stated through a megaphone that those chanting the slogan were connected to the reformist parties in Iran and were attempting to steal the revolution. Meanwhile, the pre-1979 Lion and Sun flag serves as a common visual thread across these protests, carried by both Pahlavists and pro-democracy activists. The emblem has in Iranian iconography and its meaning has shifted over time. Some trace it to ancient Persia and read it as a symbol of Iranian history before the arrival of Islam, while in other narratives it evolved after Islam, and particularly after the Safavids made Shi’ism the state religion in 1501, into a symbol of Iran’s , with the lion representing Ali ibn Abi Talib (the first Shia Imam). Because these layers of meaning long predate the Pahlavi dynasty, many who carry the flag see it as a symbol of historic Iran rather than as an endorsement of any particular political system, which allows groups with different visions for the country’s future to claim it.

The Mojahedin-e Khalq (MEK) is the third main group opposed to the Islamic Republic. Often described as a , this group is organized as an opposition movement in long-standing mutual hostility with both the monarchists and the government in Tehran. The group carries its own version of the Lion and Sun flag, adopted by its political wing, the National Council of Resistance of Iran (), in 1993, which is distinguishable from the Pahlavist version by the absence of the crown. Although still the most organized group within the opposition diaspora, the MEK remains unpopular among Iranians because of its cult-like internal practices, its origins as an Islamist-Marxist militia, and its during the Iran-Iraq war. The group’s presence at demonstrations is treated as a provocation by monarchists and government sympathizers alike, though since January 2026 it has kept a comparatively low profile in Canadian street mobilization.

Alongside general anti-Islamic Republic forces, various nationalist and ethno-regional groups have gained prominence within the Iranian diaspora, advocating for decentralization or state fragmentation in the event of government collapse. Ethnic minority groups, including Azeri, Arab, Kurdish, and Baluch movements, are pursuing distinct national rights, with demands spanning from regional federalism to outright independence. These platform positions put them in direct conflict with the centralizing nationalism of Pahlavist monarchists, other anti-Islamic Republic nationalists, and Islamic Republic supporters. Furthermore, several of these movements maintain cross-border ties with foreign governments, including Israel and ��ü���쾱���, as well as regional armed groups, such as Iraqi Kurdish forces. Carrying their own flags and chanting their own slogans, they are often targeted by other groups in protests.

Contrasting with anti-Islamic Republic forces, pro-government elements within the diaspora consist of individuals sympathetic to Iran’s current political system. At political demonstrations, display of the Islamic Republic flag generally signals alignment with Tehran, and this group routinely clashes with opposition groups at such events. The same emblem carries a different meaning in other settings, however, since it remains the current national flag and is carried at cultural and sporting events by Iranians who hold no brief for the government, a distinction that bears directly on several of the incidents described below.

Intra-Diaspora Conflict: Escalating Violence and Tension in 2026

Heightened polarization and rising internal divisions are increasingly linked to criminal incidents within the Iranian diaspora and its political mobilization in Canada. These activities remain difficult to address through traditional judicial channels, as the high degree of polarization complicates perpetrator identification and successful prosecution.

Such polarization has escalated into intra-diaspora violence. In February 2026, Masood Masjoody, a critic of both the Islamic Republic and the exiled Pahlavi family, disappeared in British Columbia. His remains were found the following month. were charged with first-degree murder. that both accused had opposed the Iranian government and backed the monarchist movement in online posts, and that one was a defendant in a harassment suit Masjoody had filed before his death. Reuters later that Masjoody had himself belonged to the monarchist organization “Farashgard” before becoming a critic of it. In an interview in April 2025, Masjoody described being harassed for his views, saying that monarchist activists had threatened him without limits. Masjoody said that one threat specified the , and that he had submitted this material to the Supreme Court of British Columbia. Following a court appearance by the two accused, two groups of spectators and were separated by sheriffs.

Days after Masjoody disappeared, ten diaspora figures, most of them critics of the monarchist campaign or of the war, were which read, in Farsi and beneath a knife emoji, that they would soon have to find the corpses of many. The account was named for SAVAK, the pre-1979 Iranian security service, and has since been deactivated. At least two of those tagged reported the post to police and altered their routines. In July, a Greater Toronto Area resident publicly called on to add a lethal agricultural chemical to food served at a public funeral, drawing condemnation from voices in the diaspora. Although directed at events in Iran, the statement was made publicly from Canada by a resident and no public action by Canadian authorities has followed. In March, Toronto Police arrested two counter-demonstrators at the rally following a clash between pro-Islamic Republic and anti-Islamic Republic protesters. One of the accused allegedly tore an Islamic Republic flag from a participant’s back and later set one alight; his charges include public incitement of hatred. Toronto Police stated that both investigations were being At a monarchist demonstration in downtown Toronto in January, a man who had argued with participants was struck in the face and injured in the eye. Video that circulated afterwards shows a participant defending the assault on the grounds that he had insulted them. At demonstrations in Vancouver, have gathered in close proximity and entered into sustained confrontation. In June 2026, the City of Toronto had to of the World Cup match between Iran and Belgium because of public safety concerns related to the demonstrations and increased risks of confrontations between pro-Islamic Republic and anti-Islamic Republic protesters. FIFA from World Cup stadiums in May. Tensions have occasionally manifested in threats or acts of physical violence targeting pro-democracy activists, government sympathizers, and ethno-national groups such as Azerbaijani, Arab, Kurd, and Baluch representatives. Those who or repeat the expected slogan are increasingly treated not as opponents but as collaborators. Polarization within the diaspora has increased drastically in everyday life as well. A boycott campaign has circulated online naming Iranian businesses in Toronto as being affiliated with or supporting the Islamic Republic, including . Harassment between monarchist activists and their critics has also increased, and Iranian-Canadian academics and journalists in Toronto describe receiving repeated death threats, rape threats, and doxxing over the same period. On 12 April, was exchanged between the two sides at a rally in Toronto.

Parallel Dynamics in the United States and United Kingdom

These dynamics extend well beyond Canada. Over the same timeframe, comparable clashes involving the same groups have emerged across the broader West, notably in the US and the United Kingdom (UK). This widespread incidence points to a systemic, transnational pattern of diaspora fragmentation and intra-community conflict, and underlines the challenges facing law-enforcement agencies in Canada.

In the US, on 11 January, in the Westwood district of Los Angeles, California, carrying a banner that read “No Shah. No Regime. USA: Don’t Repeat 1953. No Mullah,” a message rejecting both the monarchy and the Islamic Republic. According to the , demonstrators tore the banner from the truck, smashed its windows, and assaulted the driver, who then drove through the crowd. The driver was arrested for reckless driving and later released without charge.

In March, that ^[1] In June, during Iran’s opening World Cup match in , stadium officials had to break up a fight in the stands between . Outside the stadium, videos circulated showing , as well as other people trying to enter or leave the stadium, being harassed by Pahlavi supporters for not carrying the Lion and Sun flag.

In the UK, Pahlavi supporters have targeted ethnic minority Iranians and anti-war demonstrators, treating those who oppose the American and Israeli military campaign against Iran as complicit with the Islamic Republic. In March, following an attack on a Kurdish-owned restaurant in London, , the UK correspondent for Kurdistan24, was seriously injured by a group of roughly fifteen monarchist supporters while reporting on the incident. The Metropolitan Police opened an investigation into what witnesses described as part of a wider pattern of attacks on Kurdish businesses and individuals. In April, , an Iranian demonstrating against the war outside Downing Street, was stabbed several times by a counter-protester of Iranian origin and survived. He had previously been abused in public, and other anti-war Iranians in the UK reported threats of stabbing from the monarchist side at demonstrations.

Beyond Transnational Repression: Jurisdictional Challenges

Existing scholarship on transnational repression has focused primarily on state-directed activities targeting dissidents, while paying comparatively little attention to coercive and violent dynamics occurring within diaspora communities. Transnational repression is now seen as a matter of national security in relation to foreign interference. Violence between diaspora members falls outside this scope when it is not sponsored and supported directly by foreign governments.

Intra-community violence is a more complex process involving genuine political activism as well as organized criminality and foreign interference. Political activism such as protests can turn into political intimidation and violence aimed at silencing part of ethnic communities which, in turn, leads to social polarization. Canada has seen intra-community political violence before. Examples include the confrontations at Eritrean community events in and , and the inward-directed incidents that have accompanied . In each instance, the conduct was handled as public disorder or as a matter of foreign interference rather than as diaspora politics in its own right. This threat is not specific to Canada and occurs in most Western countries.

, the RCMP is the primary agency responsible for investigating threats to national security, including foreign interference as defined under the Canadian Security Intelligence Service Act. Transnational repression, including threats directed at diaspora communities, falls within this mandate. The Canada Border Services Agency (CBSA) and CSIS also play important roles in investigating transnational repression activities and identifying foreign operatives acting on Canadian soil.

By contrast, intimidation, violence at protests, and threats exchanged between members of diaspora communities generally fall within the jurisdiction of local law enforcement agencies. A useful parallel can be drawn with the distinction between terrorist activities, which fall under the mandate of RCMP Integrated National Security Enforcement Teams (INSETs), and hate crimes that are not linked to broader extremist ideologies or organized groups, which are typically investigated by local police services.

These manifestations of diaspora polarization are further complicated by the fact that violence occurs within a broader context of political activism directed against the government in Tehran, which Canada has long criticized on human rights grounds. Canadian policy seeks simultaneously to protect freedoms of expression and assembly at home and to sustain that criticism abroad. The Iranian case presents a distinct set of challenges compared to other cases of foreign interference in Canada, such as those involving India, because intra-community tensions are intertwined with a broader political movement that receives considerable public sympathy and support within Canadian society.

As a result, investigative attention is often directed toward transnational repression, while patterns of intra-ethnic polarization receive comparatively limited scrutiny as a distinct phenomenon. Rather than being analyzed collectively, such incidents are generally treated as discrete criminal acts perpetrated by individuals, agent provocateurs, or criminal organizations. In a July 2026 with Reuters, Reza Pahlavi attributed some of the conduct carried out in his name to plants and agitators masquerading as supporters in order to create such conflicts. Such rhetoric further blurs the line between state-sponsored foreign interference and localized diaspora violence, interweaving local, national, transnational, and geopolitical dynamics.

While intra-diaspora political polarization is well-documented, institutional blind spots regarding its intersection with state-backed foreign interference leave diaspora members acutely vulnerable. Victims often find it difficult to report these politically motivated acts, as the political and ideological nuances surrounding such incidents can complicate their interpretation by both community members and law enforcement agencies. Consequently, these incidents may be underreported or investigated as isolated criminal acts rather than as part of broader patterns of intra-ethnic polarization. In the UK, activist Ghazal Diani and was told the matter would be investigated only if something more serious occurred.

Politically motivated intimidation within these communities occupies an ambiguous legal space, straddling national security mandates, hate crime enforcement, and conventional criminal law. This jurisdictional overlap complicates local law enforcement responses and creates significant reporting barriers, hindering the systematic tracking and prosecution of intra-community violence. Furthermore, investigations related to transnational repression often require extensive international cooperation, as segments of the Iranian diaspora are active across multiple Western countries. Effective investigations also depend on access to Persian-language expertise, trusted relationships within diaspora communities, and a nuanced understanding of community dynamics. At the law enforcement level, this requires keeping pace with rapidly evolving political tensions and polarization within the diaspora, as well as broader geopolitical developments. At the national security level, a key challenge is sharing highly classified information with local law enforcement partners in ways that support investigations while protecting sensitive sources and methods. This is particularly important when distinguishing between criminal activities stemming from community polarization and actions directed or supported by a foreign state. Authorities must also recognize that investigations and interventions within diaspora communities can have unintended consequences. If not approached carefully, they may deepen existing divisions, reinforce perceptions of stigmatization, and inadvertently strengthen narratives that portray Western governments as targeting Iranian communities.

Recommendations and Implications for Canada

Violence within diaspora communities presents a significant challenge that Canada’s existing security and law-enforcement categories were not designed to capture as effectively as threats to national security. It does not neatly fit the framework of transnational repression and foreign interference, as much of the violence is neither directed nor coordinated by a foreign state. Nor is it adequately understood as conventional hate crime or violent extremism, particularly when perpetrators and victims may share the same nationality, ethnic identity, or religious affiliation. Yet the consequences of this violence are distinctly transnational and political, often intersecting with mobilization and protests against the Islamic Republic of Iran. When agencies assess these incidents only through the lens of their individual mandates, the broader pattern can remain invisible. The result is a fragmented response that risks overlooking victims, underestimating the scale of the threat, and failing to address the political and transnational dimensions of the violence.

Although it can sometimes fit within the framework of politically motivated violent extremism, intra-community violence presents distinct analytical challenges. It may be interpreted differently from forms of violent extremism occurring between distinct communities, such as the tensions and violence observed between Canada’s Palestinian and Jewish communities following October 2023. Because perpetrators and victims may share the same ethnic, religious, or national identity, the political and ideological motivations underlying the violence can be more difficult to identify and may be overlooked within existing threat-assessment frameworks. For example, has funded multiple programs to address polarization between Arab and Jewish diasporas, but very few are designed for violence inside a single community.

Prevention and enforcement efforts in diaspora communities often lack dedicated language expertise and the capacity to monitor increased activity across multiple platforms, including Telegram, Instagram, X, diaspora media, and encrypted channels. These gaps are particularly consequential during periods of heightened political mobilization, when emerging vulnerabilities and risks can develop rapidly and require early intervention. Hate-based incidents are rarely the product of a single organization or network; rather, they can emerge in protests and other political activities and involve loosely connected actors. Yet these incidents can reflect broader transnational trends, with narratives, tactics, and grievances circulating across borders and becoming mutually reinforcing. Effective prevention therefore requires heightened monitoring during periods of political mobilization, combined with stronger language and analytical capabilities to identify emerging risks upstream and distinguish isolated incidents from broader patterns of mobilization and violence. Risks often first emerge through seemingly isolated episodes of hate and intimidation online or during protests, including doxxing, sexualized threats, the circulation of target lists, and other forms of targeted harassment. A concrete public safety response should be sufficiently flexible to address a threat that does not fit neatly within existing frameworks for transnational repression, foreign interference, or countering violent extremism. It should enable authorities to monitor large-scale protests and political mobilization as well as social media where violence occurs within communities and movements, rather than primarily between them. This requires the capacity to identify early indicators of hate and escalation across multiple platforms, supported by language-specific expertise. It should also allow authorities to connect local episodes of violence to broader transnational trends without assuming that such trends reflect hierarchical command structures or formal organizational links.

Interagency Collaboration: A Coordinated Approach to Hate Incident Reporting and Threat Assessment

In an ideal scenario, dedicated task forces could be established to foster sustained collaboration among relevant agencies. A more realistic and immediately actionable approach, however, would be to strengthen information-sharing mechanisms and reinforce referral pathways between agencies. Law enforcement agencies often lack the broader visibility needed to identify trends and linkages across incidents occurring elsewhere in Canada and in other Western countries. Enhanced information sharing could help bridge this gap by connecting local, incident-level intelligence with broader assessments of emerging threats and extremist activity.

One promising model is the increasingly effective coordination between local law enforcement agencies investigating hate crimes motivated by Islamophobia, antisemitism, and racism on the one hand, and national security agencies addressing hate-based groups and far-right extremism on the other. Current efforts to address nihilistic violent extremism at the local, national, and international levels provide another useful model to adapt. Existing collaboration between agencies has long been developed to identify concrete threats to national security, requiring the involvement of INSET units in Canada, as distinct from localized crimes to be investigated and prosecuted by local law enforcement and prosecutors. These partnerships have also included intervention and prevention teams established to address vulnerabilities and risk factors associated with radicalization leading to violence.

The case of intra-diaspora violence appears more complex to address, as the national security threat environment combines far-right extremism, hate-based ideologies, foreign interference, and transnational repression. At the local level, violence and criminality can unfold across a range of settings, including large public protests, mass gatherings associated with sporting events, and Middle East-related events such as Al-Quds events or those linked to the war in Palestine. At the same time, the Criminal Code provisions on uttering threats, criminal harassment, intimidation, and public incitement of hatred cover most of the incidents documented in this paper, and the laid by Toronto Police following the Al-Quds Day rally demonstrate their applicability.

Local law enforcement should remain responsible for receiving and investigating individual hate incidents and criminal offences, while national-level agencies could provide broader threat assessments, identify cross-jurisdictional patterns, and facilitate the sharing of relevant intelligence. The RCMP plays a central role in cross-jurisdictional investigations, as well as in establishing sustained operational partnerships with other intelligence and investigative bodies, such as CSIS and CBSA, alongside broader strategic coordination by Public Safety Canada tracking these incidents. The transnational nature of the threat also requires greater coordination among Five Eyes partners, alongside carefully calibrated information-sharing arrangements with foreign governments. This is particularly important when engaging the United States, given its direct and ongoing military confrontation with Iran.

Strengthening Outreach and Trust with the Iranian Diaspora

Given that the threat environment remains fluid and is heavily influenced by geopolitical developments, interagency communication should not be treated as an ad hoc or event-driven process. Instead, it should be structured as a recurring mechanism, with regular exchanges of information and threat assessments that allow agencies to identify emerging patterns, reassess risks, and adjust their responses as circumstances evolve.

Outreach mechanisms targeting the Iranian diaspora have already been developed to address concerns related to transnational repression, but these efforts could be expanded to better capture dynamics of intra-diaspora violence. A reliable referral mechanism could enable members of the diaspora to report hate incidents at both the local and national levels, while providing law enforcement agencies with the contextual information needed to assess individual incidents within broader patterns. Such reporting mechanisms are effectively implemented for , but are ill-equipped for intra-diaspora polarization.

At the same time, the highly polarized and politically contested nature of these issues creates a risk that referral mechanisms could be exploited for partisan or strategic purposes, including through the submission of unsubstantiated or politically motivated allegations. Any such mechanism should therefore incorporate robust, evidence-based safeguards. Reports should be assessed against consistent criteria, corroborated where possible, and clearly distinguished between verified incidents, credible allegations, and unsubstantiated claims.

Implementing an incident-reporting mechanism is easier than sustaining one effectively. Its long-term success depends on local authorities earning the trust of the community, while also demonstrating the capacity to investigate and, where appropriate, prosecute reported cases. Without both community confidence and credible follow-through, reporting mechanisms risk generating limited engagement and may fail to provide the sustained information needed to identify broader patterns and trends.

Conclusion

Overall, intra-diaspora violence is not a new phenomenon. Existing interagency coordination mechanisms can address many of its manifestations effectively. The central challenge, however, is that such violence is often identified only after incidents have occurred, resulting in a predominantly reactive rather than proactive response. This report has documented recent incidents, their increasing intensity, and their transnational dimensions to raise awareness of the need for a more coordinated approach building on existing transnational repression outreach and prevention activities as well as existing mechanisms developed to address violent extremism.

In a multicultural society, the test of a security policy is whether it protects citizens from violence within their own communities as carefully as it protects them from foreign states, and whether it can do so without treating an entire community as suspect. This approach is not specific to Iranian communities. The same combination of early detection, behaviour-based intervention, and restraint is applicable wherever political conflicts abroad divide communities at home, as has occurred among Eritrean, Sikh, and other diaspora communities in Canada. A framework developed to address these challenges in the Iranian diaspora could therefore provide a broader model for identifying and mitigating community-based political violence without stigmatizing legitimate political activity.

^[1] Meaning long live the King, a slogan popular among the Pahlavists and royalists.

The post Canada’s Blind Spot: Intra-Community Violence inside Canada’s Iranian Diaspora appeared first on Eastern European and Transatlantic Network.

Since the onset of the joint United States–Israeli military campaign against Iran in February 2026, developments in the Middle East have emerged as a primary driver of global strategic assessments. The conflict is simultaneously generating significant secondary effects in the South Caucasus, reshaping regional alignments and the relationship between Armenia and Azerbaijan.

By assessing Iran’s relationships with Armenia and Azerbaijan, its core strategic interests in the South Caucasus, and its operational partnership with Moscow, this policy memo examines how the ongoing war against Iran, combined with the August 2025 Washington Accords, has disrupted Tehran’s long-standing hedging strategy and could undermine its regional influence.

To illustrate this shift, the memo first analyzes Iran’s traditional foreign policy toward Armenia and Azerbaijan and how the Washington Accords have diminished Iran’s geoeconomic role as a buffer between Armenia and Azerbaijan, thereby constraining its ability to exert leverage over both states. It further evaluates how the agreement heightens Iran’s strategic vulnerabilities in the face of growing Turkish, the North Atlantic Treaty Organization (NATO), and U.S. presence in the region, and highlights the increasingly divergent interests and approaches of Moscow and Tehran in shaping the future of the South Caucasus.

Engaging with the outcomes of the United States–Israeli military campaign against Iran, the policy memo concludes by analyzing Tehran’s shifting strategic posture in the South Caucasus. This assessment is situated within the context of Iran’s amicable yet strategically incongruent relationship with Moscow, as well as its intensifying competition with ��ü���쾱��� for regional influence.

Iran’s Core Interests in the South Caucasus: Economic Pragmatism over Ideology

Iran views the South Caucasus as part of its immediate rather than a distant foreign region. While Tehran has historical and cultural ties with the region, its policy toward the area has been driven primarily by geopolitical stability, border security, and connectivity considerations rather than ideological or religious affinity. Although Tehran formally maintained neutrality during the Armenia–Azerbaijan conflict, in practice it pursued a balancing strategy aimed at preventing regional dominance by any single actor. Much like Russia’s approach in the region, the protracted Nagorno-Karabakh conflict generated a degree of political instability that enabled Tehran and Moscow to preserve their influence over both Armenia and Azerbaijan, while simultaneously constraining ��ü���쾱���’s ability to expand its regional presence. Iran’s strategy has also emphasized the importance of preventing alterations to internationally recognized borders and safeguarding its access to European markets.

In the aftermath of Armenia’s military defeats in 2020 and 2023, and amid Moscow’s failure to uphold its perceived security commitments under the Collective Security Treaty Organization (CSTO) framework and its peacekeeping mandate, Iran increasingly came to be portrayed as one of Armenia’s most reliable regional partners. Iran–Armenia post-Soviet relations have been stable and cooperative. Since Armenia’s independence, Iran has consistently maintained , supporting Armenia, both state and people, during regional crises and serving as a key transit partner. In the aftermath of the Turkish–Azerbaijani blockade of the 1990s, Iran has functioned as a critical terrestrial access route and economic partner. The two countries are also involved in many trade and energy partnerships and collaborate in the transit of goods between Europe and Asia.

While both nations share a foundational identity as Shia-majority states, the bilateral relationship between the Islamic Republic of Iran and the Republic of Azerbaijan has been characterized by persistent strategic friction since 1991. Central to Tehran’s security concerns is Baku’s deepening military-industrial and energy partnership with Israel, which, alongside Azerbaijan’s “one nation, two states” alliance with ��ü���쾱���, is viewed by Iranian policymakers as a coordinated effort to contain Iranian regional influence.

This tension is further exacerbated by the geopolitical implications of the Zangezur Corridor. From Tehran’s perspective, any Azerbaijani effort to establish a sovereign land link through southern Armenia constitutes a “red line,” as it threatens to sever Iran’s critical northern transit link to Europe and the Caucasus. Despite these structural rivalries, the relationship maintains a degree of pragmatic stability. Both states remain tethered by mutual economic interests, specifically their shared roles in the Trans-Caspian International Transport Route (Middle Corridor) and Baku’s continued reliance on Iranian territory for transit to its Nakhchivan exclave.

Iran’s regional approach has been shaped less by the Muslim–Christian divide or ideological concerns and more by practical and security concerns over Turkish influence, Israeli presence near its borders, transit routes affecting its access to Eurasia, and the potential domestic repercussions among its own Azeri population. Iran views the Caucasus as its “historic security margin” and its immediate security and economic environment.

The 2025 Washington Agreement and its Initial Implementation Framework

In August 2025, Armenia and Azerbaijan signed the Washington Accords under the mediation of the President of the United States, launching the Trump Route for International Peace and Prosperity (TRIPP) and establishing a 99-year economic partnership between the United States and Armenia. The Washington Accords create opportunities for significant shifts in regional transit dynamics, including the movement of goods, energy infrastructure, and the broader interconnection between Asia and Europe. These developments have implications for the roles traditionally played by Russia, Iran, Central Asia, and the South Caucasus in Eurasian transport and trade networks. It reduces Central Asian countries’ dependency on Chinese and Russian infrastructures as well as bypassing Iran’s role in the Middle Corridor.

, the United States and Armenia signed the providing exclusive rights to develop the transit infrastructure. The framework excludes extraterritorial rights to American entities preserving Armenia’s sovereignty including the border management aspect of the transit corridor. In this partnership, the TRIPP Development Company, a joint venture with Armenia mostly controlled by Washington, provides a monopoly in the development business surrounding the route and its infrastructure. The agreement seeks to develop the Syunik region as a hub of economic activity and local development, with the objective of enhancing transit and connectivity between Asia and Europe, connecting Azerbaijan with its autonomous region of Nakhichevan. More broadly, the TRIPP becomes a competitive alternative to the Baku–Tbilisi–Kars (BTK) railroad and future alternative pipeline to Europe, competing with Baku–Tbilisi-Ceyhan pipeline by securing European access to Central Asian hydrocarbons.

In the energy domain, the normalization process between Armenia and Azerbaijan reshapes the region’s broader transit and supply landscape. Most notably, Armenia could become significantly less dependent on Russian and Iran natural gas, thereby opening possibilities for access to Central Asian hydrocarbons and, potentially, to Azerbaijani energy sources. Turkmen and Azerbaijani gas competes with Iran’s gas output, offering a cheaper and potentially more politically reliable alternative for European countries. launched the construction of energy infrastructure, including a new transit powerline to export to Europe through ��ü���쾱���.

The Accord has inaugurated a new phase of cooperation between the former belligerents, notably facilitating the renewed transit of goods between the two states. This includes the movement of hydrocarbons originating in Azerbaijan as well as grain exports from Russia and various Central Asian countries. The emerging prospects for a peace accord between Armenia and Azerbaijan have broadened the diplomatic space for both states, transforming their engagement into a more intricate and multidimensional interaction. Furthermore, the effectively eliminates Moscow’s role as established in the November 2020 agreement, which delegated some administrative control over border management to the Russian Federal Security Service (FSB).

Although the Washington Accords do not provide any security guarantees from the United States or include enforcement mechanisms directed toward Azerbaijan, Armenia leaders hope that increased American investment would encourage a more active role by Washington and put an end to Baku’s strategy of outbidding Yerevan in their bilateral relationship.

Overall, the TRIPP represents, for Armenia, an additional step toward the West, thereby weakening Moscow’s influence in the South Caucasus, while also providing an opportunity to normalize relations with Ankara and Baku. For Azerbaijan, the Washington Accords consolidate its military victory, while re-establishing direct access to Nakhchivan and stimulating its transit-based economy. Furthermore, the TRIPP reduces Baku’s dependency and uncertainties link to its main transit route to Europe going through Georgia.

Iran’s Strategic Approach in the South Caucasus after the Washington Accords

Much of the and commentary has framed recent developments as a geostrategic, zero‑sum contest in which the United States and ��ü���쾱��� have successfully marginalized both Iran and Russia from regional influence. While geostrategic and security considerations remain central, it is necessary to look beyond great power and regional competition to understand how Iran and Russia are recalibrating their relationships with Armenia and Azerbaijan and assessing areas of mutual convergence to avoid strategic marginalization.

Following the Washington Declaration and TRIPP announcement, the Iran official diplomatic position was articulated by in a telephone conversation with his Armenian counterpart. While welcoming peace efforts and regional connectivity, Araghchi specified Iran’s red lines: there must be no extraterritorial corridor or special status undermining Armenian sovereign control, and no changes that alter regional geopolitics or disadvantage Iran’s strategic access. He further emphasized full respect for borders, territorial integrity, and national jurisdiction, and stressed that connectivity must not isolate Iran from established or alternative transit routes.

However, an examination of various members of the Foreign Policy establishment could shed light on various aspects of Iran’s understanding of this situation. On 9 August 2025, , former Minister of Foreign Affairs and a senior advisor to the former Supreme Leader of Iran, framed the TRIPP as a rebranding of the Zangezur corridor concept. He said that the implementation of this project would restrict Iran’s transport routes in the north and northwest to (only) ��ü���쾱���, and that Iran will confront this move ‘whether with Russia or without it.’ He likened NATO’s presence along this route to a ‘viper’ that wants to lie down between Iran and Russia and warned that Iran will not allow this alliance to approach its northern borders. The former himself in a meeting with Prime Minister Pashinyan, in July 2024, had mentioned that Iran recognizes that the Zangezur Corridor is against Armenia’s interests and stands in this position.

Other Iranian officials however, adopted a more moderate position and sought further clarification as the details, terms, and conditions of the TRIPP are not clear yet. In a meeting with Armenia’s National Security Council Secretary, the former head of Iran’s Strategic Council on Foreign Relations, , welcomed Armenia–Azerbaijan connectivity but requested clarification regarding the governing legal and security framework of the route, particularly any external involvement. The Armenian side emphasized that border control and security would remain under Armenian authority. This exchange illustrates Tehran’s core concern: not connectivity itself, but the jurisdictional and security regime under which it would operate.

Noting the travel of , to Israel, Iran observes a ‘deviation’ from historical relationships. Kostanyan is closely involved in the implementation of the TRIPP initiative. The trip may therefore be understood not only as a diplomatic engagement but also as part of Armenia’s efforts to advance the corridor and related regional connectivity arrangements. From the Iranian perspective, Armenia has not sufficiently taken Tehran’s ‘concerns’ into account while proceeding with the project, which gives the visit broader regional significance beyond bilateral diplomacy. Current uncertainties and tensions are therefore portrayed not as a structural rivalry but as a recent policy shift by Armenia toward Western initiatives, which Tehran views as inconsistent with the traditionally predictable relationship.

Although these responses appear to represent hard-line and moderate positions, they in fact reflect Iranian concerns articulated at two different levels of policy. Velayati’s warning conveys the strategic perception of the corridor as a geopolitical and security challenge that could alter regional balances and introduce external influence near Iran’s borders. Kharrazi’s more measured statements address the operational level, focusing on the legal and jurisdictional arrangements governing the route and the necessity of preserving Armenian sovereignty and local border control. Taken together, they are complementary rather than contradictory: the first signals Iran’s red lines in terms of regional balance of power, while the second defines the specific conditions under which connectivity could be tolerated. This dual messaging suggests that Tehran’s opposition is directed not at transport connectivity itself, but at any arrangement that diminishes Iran’s strategic position or creates a non-sovereign security regime along its northwestern frontier.

Drawing on Russia’s conduct in cases such as the Joint Comprehensive Plan of Action (JCPOA) and the Syrian Civil War, Iranian assessments of Moscow’s position on the TRIPP are broadly consistent with longer-standing perceptions of Russia across Iran’s political spectrum. These range from proponents of deeper strategic alignment with Russia, to more skeptical voices that view reliance on Moscow as a strategic liability, such as those featured in Etemad and Shargh newspapers. Between these poles, a significant group of policymakers and experts adopts a position of cautious realism, advocating sustained engagement with Russia while maintaining a clear political safety margin featured in Donya-e-Eqtesad newspaper. Notably, across these perspectives there is a shared underlying assumption: Russia is not regarded as a fully predictable or reliably-aligned partner.

The Erosion of Iran’s Transit Hub Centrality

Iran’s policy toward the South Caucasus cannot be understood without reference to its broader economic strategy. In recent years, Tehran has increasingly framed its foreign policy around geo-economics rather than solely sanctions resistance and relief. A strategic guidance issued by the and the (June 2024) explicitly direct the government to activate Iran’s ‘geopolitical advantages’ by transforming the country into a regional hub for trade, transport, and energy through regulatory reforms and infrastructure development.

The Development Plan intends to institutionalize this objective. It mandates the creation of a Regional Energy Trade Steering Committee, chaired by the President and composed of the Ministers of Oil, Foreign Affairs, and Energy, with parliamentary participation. The Committee is responsible for designing Iran’s regional energy diplomacy roadmap and approving export, import, swap, transit, and electricity exchange arrangements. These measures show that Iran is indeed attempting to convert geography into economic resilience: transit fees, energy swaps, and logistics services are intended to compensate for sanctions-related restrictions on direct trade and investment.

A central quantitative target of the Development Plan is to increase annual transit cargo volume from approximately 16 million tons at the beginning of the Plan to 40 million tons by its conclusion. The South Caucasus plays a crucial role in achieving this goal because it constitutes Iran’s shortest overland connection to Eurasian markets. The Iran-Armenia border effectively blocks a continuous ��ü���쾱���-Azerbaijan land corridor, thereby preserving ��ü���쾱���’s dependence on Iranian transit routes toward Azerbaijan and Central Asia.

Iran participates in wider regional energy arrangements, including gas swap agreements with Turkmenistan and ��ü���쾱���. These arrangements allow Tehran to earn transit revenue, estimated at roughly $1–1.5 billion annually, while maintaining relevance in regional energy distribution networks. It also conducts gas and electricity swaps with Azerbaijan to supply the Nakhchivan exclave. Additionally, it serves as a trucking corridor between ��ü���쾱��� and Central Asia, currently of Turkish trucks annually.

However, emerging infrastructure projects threaten to erode this position. The , operational since March 2025, already reduces Nakhchivan’s dependence on Iranian gas swaps. If an additional pipeline link across southern Armenia were completed, Azerbaijan would obtain a direct energy connection to its exclave, while . With the TRIPP, Turkmenistan’s and Azerbaijan’s natural gas exports directly compete with Iran’s output by providing Armenia with flexibility and lower‑cost alternatives.

More broadly, the proposed TRIPP corridor could connect ��ü���쾱��� to Central Asia via Azerbaijan and the Caspian basin, thereby rendering the second route of the Middle Corridor practically feasible as a bypass to Iranian transit routes connecting China and Central Asia to Europe. Furthermore, the TRIPP would strengthen the Middle Corridor and its overreliance on .

For Tehran, the issue is not merely symbolic. Such routes would divert trucking flows, logistics investment, and energy transit away from Iran, potentially reducing transit income by a significant margin and weakening incentives for infrastructure development. estimate potential losses reaching up to 2.6 billion dollars annually over time when indirect effects on logistics, investment, and associated services are considered.

Even more important than immediate revenue is what Iranian policymakers call ‘.’ Iran seeks to preserve independent land access to the Caucasus and Europe that does not depend exclusively on Turkish–Azerbaijani territory. The South Caucasus therefore functions not only as an economic opportunity but as a strategic economic lifeline. Any corridor that structurally marginalizes Iranian transit routes is perceived in Tehran not as a normal infrastructure project but as a long-term reduction of Iran’s geopolitical and economic leverage.

A Trojan Horse on Iran’s Doorstep: After ��ü���쾱��� and Israel, now NATO and the USA

Tehran’s security concerns centre on preserving the sovereignty structure along its northwestern frontier. Iranian officials emphasize the maintenance of internationally recognized borders and oppose any extraterritorial or internationally supervised transit arrangements in the Syunik province. In Iranian strategic perception, a transport corridor is not merely an infrastructure project but a potential : if administered or monitored by external actors, it could facilitate intelligence collection, surveillance, and the institutionalization of foreign, especially American and Israeli, presence near sensitive Iranian regions. The Washington Accords remain vague regarding which actors will be responsible for providing daily security along the TRIPP corridor, even though Armenia is formally recognized as retaining sovereignty over its territory. This ambiguity leaves open the possibility that could assume a role in protecting the route. Consequently, Iran’s opposition is directed less at connectivity itself than at any arrangement that alters jurisdictional control or introduces external security actors along its immediate border.

The intensity of Velayati’s remarks is best understood by factoring in the role of the U.S. in this initiative. According to , a former Iranian diplomat, in Iranian foreign policy thinking, where some officials regard antagonism with the U.S. as structural, any development in which Washington emerges as the agent of regional normalization would be viewed negatively. He therefore situates the corridor within Iran’s long-standing confrontation with the U.S., arguing that it would elevate Washington’s position as a political arbiter in the South Caucasus while creating a connectivity framework from which all regional actors – ��ü���쾱���, Azerbaijan, Armenia, and Western partners – would benefit, except Iran. In this interpretation, the corridor itself is not the principal concern; rather, the accompanying political arrangements could institutionalize U.S. influence and leave Iran structurally excluded from emerging regional trade and security networks. Velayati’s rhetoric thus reflects a broader fear of geopolitical marginalization under a U.S.-backed regional order.

��ü���쾱���’s Pan‑Turkic Orientation and Its Strategic Implications for Iran

Iran opposes any extraterritorial corridor arrangements that would create a continuous ��ü���쾱���- Azerbaijan land connection and facilitate the Middle Corridor linking ��ü���쾱���, the South Caucasus, and Central Asia. Iranian assess that such a route would shift the regional balance in favor of ��ü���쾱���, structurally reduce Iran’s role in east–west connectivity, and diminish Tehran’s leverage in Eurasian trade and energy networks. Following the recent wars between Armenia and Azerbaijan and the Washington Accord, ��ü���쾱��� appears a step closer toward its regional ambitions focused on pan-Turkism ranging from Anatolia to Central Asia.

Tehran interprets the TRIPP as a rebranded Zangezur Corridor that constitutes a that could undermine Iran’s geoeconomic relevance in the transit between Asia and Europe by reducing dependency of regional actors on Iranian transit routes.

Within Iranian strategic discourse, the project is also interpreted as part of a broader geopolitical realignment across Eurasia. Iranian officials and senior advisers have argued that a continuous transport axis from Anatolia to Central Asia would expand Turkish political and economic influence, weaken Iran’s geoeconomic centrality, and potentially enable a wider external security presence in the South Caucasus. From Tehran’s perspective, the concern is less ideological than structural: a functioning Middle Corridor could bypass Iranian territory while embedding new political, military, and intelligence partnerships near Iran’s northwestern frontier.

At the same time, Iran appears to have avoided the worst‑case scenario that had emerged following the one‑day 2023 conflict between Azerbaijan and Armenia and the subsequent escalation in Azerbaijani rhetoric, particularly the invocation of the ‘Western Azerbaijan’ concept.3 Likewise, Baku’s promotion of a ‘special corridor’— envisioned within the broader Zangezur Corridor framework and implying strong Azerbaijani–Turkish control — had raised significant concerns in Tehran regarding potential geopolitical and territorial encroachments. It would have materially shifted regional power toward the Turkish bloc and most likely completely exclude Iran from connectivity, linking Europe to Asia.

Between Alignment and Competition: Russia and Iran’s South Caucasus Strategy

In the South Caucasus, Russian and Iranian foreign policies converge in their shared willingness to counter Western influence and to constrain Ankara’s expanding regional role. This alignment is also reflected in their cooperation within the International North–South Transport Corridor, which both states have leveraged to mitigate the impact of Western sanctions. However, the North–South Transport Corridor remains inefficient and weakened by the prospects of the TRIPP and future Azerbaijan and Armenia collaboration.

At the same time, Moscow and Tehran continue to pursue distinct regional and geopolitical objectives aimed at advancing their own interests and influence in the South Caucasus rather than form a cohesive strategic approach as a functional partnership. The Washington Accords highlight these underlying frictions, particularly in revealing the absence of a coordinated Russian–Iranian position toward the TRIPP. The corridor itself is part of a wider geopolitical contest over connectivity, influence, and control in the South Caucasus, where transport routes translate directly into political and economic leverage.

Just like Iran, Moscow has voiced general concerns and skepticism regarding the TRIPP, its implementation, and its impact on the region. to the Washington Declaration reflects this partial but imperfect convergence. The Russian Foreign Ministry responded cautiously, emphasizing regional stability and existing agreements while avoiding direct confrontation with the initiative. Moscow has been careful not to antagonize Washington or to openly criticize American President Donald Trump, while underscoring its indispensable role in ensuring the success of the TRIPP.

Iranian commentary, however, interpreted this as an ambiguous position and expressed dissatisfaction that Moscow did not oppose the project more explicitly. The observes that Russia is transitioning from dominant security hegemon in the Caucasus to a constrained, reactive actor that seeks to manage decline through selective cooperation and behind-the-scenes leverage. From Tehran’s perspective, Russia is expected to resist new mediation formats that elevate Western involvement in the South Caucasus; Moscow’s restrained response therefore raised concerns in Iran about the reliability of Russian support. The episode illustrates that, although Iran and Russia share reservations about a U.S.-centred regional framework, their threat perceptions and priorities are not identical, and cooperation between them remains situational rather than fully coordinated.

In this context, Iran finds areas of partial convergence with Russia’s policy in the South Caucasus. Both states regard the proposed corridor with caution, as it could enable a new connectivity and mediation architecture in the region that would diminish their influence while expanding the presence of external actors — primarily ��ü���쾱��� and the United States, but potentially China as well. Although their motivations differ, the project is perceived in both capitals as contributing to a regional order in which Western-backed arrangements gain prominence at the expense of Iranian and Russian leverage and the increasing influence of NATO countries in the South Caucasus. Furthermore, it weakens existing regional frameworks involving Russia, Iran, and ��ü���쾱���, such as the and the . Additionally, Armenia’s shift toward Western influence is perceived by both countries as a growing risk to their regional interests.

For Tehran, the primary concerns relate to border security and the risk of exclusion from emerging regional transit networks. For Moscow, the issue is more closely tied to the erosion of its longstanding role as the principal security arbiter in the South Caucasus and, more broadly, to the setbacks confronting its neoimperial ambitions in the region weakened by Russia’s war against Ukraine.

While Russia and Iran share a primary interest in resisting the growing presence of NATO and Western influence in the South Caucasus, persistent divergences have prevented them from coordinating an effective strategic approach. Even prior to the TRIPP initiative, certain analysts, such as , Iran’s former ambassador to Baku, had warned over Russia’s ambiguous position on Zangezur corridor. Iranian analysts often describe Russia’s position as ambiguous and more flexible than Tehran’s, particularly on ‘who manages’ an eventual arrangement. They believe that Russia’s position on the Zangezur corridor reflects a broader pattern in its relationship with Iran: it is not a truly strategic partnership but rather a transactional one driven by shifting interests. In this context, the implicit message for Iran is to exercise caution. Russia may not be a reliable partner and could instrumentalize Iran’s position to advance its own regional objectives. For example, in 2026, Moscow sought to renew its influence in the South Caucasus by seeking to fix its relationship with , as well as influencing the democratic process in and the election of a pro-Russian government.

The February 2026 War and Its Implications

On 28 February 2026, the United States and Israel launched joint military operations against Iran, targeting its nuclear and missile capabilities with broader regime-change ambitions. While military objectives appear achievable in the short term, the political outcome remains deeply uncertain. The South Caucasus has thus far remained largely insulated from the conflict, despite Azerbaijan’s ties to Israel and limited Iranian strikes on and alleged supported by the Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps targeting the Baku–Tbilisi–Ceyhan pipeline. Iran’s posture toward ��ü���쾱��� and the broader region remains ambiguous mainly due to precarious geopolitical positions and its internal turmoil. , however, despite certain immediate challenges such as increased energy prices, sees opportunities in consolidating its status as a regional energy hub and crossroads.

Russia’s response to the war has been evaluated as insufficient – even unacceptable – by . He attributes this restraint to Russia’s self-interest, particularly economic gains and strategic distractions linked to Ukraine. His assessment implies that despite rhetoric of strategic partnership, Russia behaves as a pragmatic actor that supports Iran only when it aligns with its own interests, raising serious doubts about its reliability in moments of crisis. At the same time, Russia appears to be playing a low-profile but consequential role by supplying Tehran with on U.S. military targets, as well as with operational lessons derived from the war in Ukraine, particularly regarding the employment of unmanned aerial systems and electronic warfare capabilities. This collaboration represents a full circle, following Iran’s transfer of Shahed drones to Russia at the outset of its full-scale invasion of Ukraine in 2022. Tehran not only provided the drones themselves but also offered technical support and assistance that enabled Moscow to establish its own production line for the Geran-2, the Russian version of the Shahed drone.

Regardless of the outcomes of the 2026 military campaign or the prospect of regime change in Iran, Tehran’s geostrategic competition with ��ü���쾱��� over Eurasian transit routes is likely to remain a powerful geographic and economic force shaping the South Caucasus. ��ü���쾱���’s ambition to establish a pan-Turkic corridor linking Anatolia to Central Asia via the Caspian Sea — while bypassing Iranian territory — poses a sustained threat to Iran’s transit revenues and strategic depth, irrespective of the composition of the governing regime in Tehran.

Even in the event of regime collapse and its replacement by a government aligned with U.S. and broader Western preferences, or a significantly weakened state deprived of key military instruments for projecting influence in the South Caucasus, competition between Iran and ��ü���쾱��� over Eurasian transit corridors is likely to persist. This rivalry predates the establishment of the Islamic Republic and would almost certainly outlast it. No Iranian government will find Turkish dominance of the Eurasian corridor to be in Iran’s national interest. This is a structural feature of the regional balance of power rather than an ideological preference.

While the nature of the governing regime in Tehran may shape the extent and modalities of Iran’s participation in the TRIPP, it is unlikely to fundamentally alter the underlying structural competition with ��ü���쾱��� and the lack of a common strategic approach with Russia. A more democratic Iranian government could, in fact, pursue a more proactive integration into the TRIPP-linked infrastructure, potentially positioning Iran as a critical southern corridor connecting Eurasian transit networks to the Persian Gulf. A pro-Western Iran, freed from sanctions and able to attract Western investment, may prove a more effective competitor to Turkish corridor dominance than the Islamic Republic was – because it can engage international financial systems and offer regional partners a credible alternative. Along this line, some within the Iranian government have already highlighted a potential role for Iran in the TRIPP, particularly by linking the proposed railway to a broader North–South axis that would connect Iran to the project.

Overall, the most likely scenario is a weakened Iran embroiled in prolonged transition and domestic challenges, where the outcomes of the 2026 war and the popular mobilization against the regime forces the Islamic Republic into a posture of survival and tactical concession, producing a prolonged period of U.S.-Iran negotiations. Although the TRIPP constitutes a secondary concern relative to regime survival, particularly in a context of elite fragmentation and competition over residual state assets, including security forces, revenue streams, and territorial authority, it nevertheless reflects deeper structural dynamics. Specifically, regional competition with ��ü���쾱��� is likely to remain a defining feature of Iran’s strategic environment.

Overall, Iran’s capacity to oppose the TRIPP would be significantly diminished in a context of internal fragmentation, where the central government struggles to maintain a coherent and strategic policy orientation. As domestic contestation over authority, resources, and coercive instruments intensifies, Tehran is unlikely to either mount an effective opposition to the TRIPP or engage with it in a consistent and constructive manner. This erosion of state capacity would, in turn, weaken Iran’s position along its northern frontier with Armenia, potentially transforming the Syunik region into both an economic and security vulnerability.

For ��ü���쾱���, the 2026 war could constitute a strategic window of opportunity to consolidate its influence in the South Caucasus. With Iran internally weakened and Russia preoccupied with the war in Ukraine, Ankara face fewer constraints in advancing the Middle Corridor pan-Turkic connectivity agenda. In such a scenario, both Armenia and Azerbaijan may increasingly view ��ü���쾱��� as a reliable regional partner, particularly if Ankara’s initiatives are reinforced by support from the United States and the Trump administration and by broader Western engagement. At the same time, the weakening of Iran could result on unintended consequences, such as the renewal of at Turkish borders.

Conclusion

The renewed U.S. engagement in the South Caucasus catalyzed by the Washington Accords and the TRIPP constitutes a strategic advantage for ��ü���쾱��� and Azerbaijan. It helps remove existing to the project’s implementation and circumvents longstanding opposition, particularly from Iran and Russia. For Armenia, the TRIPP represents a rare opportunity to stimulate economic development, consolidate its strategic reorientation toward the West, and rebalance its negotiating position vis-à-vis Baku, while simultaneously benefiting from the expanding trade and connectivity generated by the Middle Corridor.

By reconfiguring regional connectivity, the United States seeks to weaken both Iranian and Russian influence in the South Caucasus. Within this new strategic environment, any Iranian effort to obstruct the corridor in practice would no longer confront Azerbaijan or ��ü���쾱��� alone, but rather the United States itself. Such opposition would also risk damaging Iran’s relationship with Yerevan and undermine its access to the North–South Corridor, thereby weakening Iran’s broader connectivity to Europe.

Although Iran and Russia share certain tactical positions, most notably their skepticism toward externally driven regional initiatives such as the TRIPP, their strategic interests diverge. Russia’s posture remains pragmatic and situational, shaped by its wider global priorities and flexibility in regional bargaining. Iranian officials, by contrast, increasingly perceive the TRIPP as a direct geopolitical threat, one that could marginalize Iran economically and strategically within emerging Eurasian trade networks.

Overall, the Washington Accords have the potential to reshape the geostrategic and geoeconomic landscape of the South Caucasus and to challenge Iran’s traditional regional foreign policy. However, the realization of these outcomes will depend on the successful implementation of an ambitious infrastructure agenda requiring sustained Western engagement, as well as the finalization of a durable peace settlement between Armenia and Azerbaijan.

The post Iran’s Strategic Recalibration in the South Caucasus after the 2025 Washington Agreement and the 2026 Israeli American Intervention appeared first on Eastern European and Transatlantic Network.

Executive Summary

Russia’s full-scale invasion of Ukraine in 2022 has had far-reaching consequences for global security, particularly for regions and areas outside the European Union (EU), such as the South Caucasus, post-Soviet Central Asia, Afghanistan, and Mongolia. Although these areas are geographically far from the conflict zone, security ripple effects have been significant, as the Russian Federation has remained historically dominant and influential in these regions. However, the war in Ukraine has raised concerns about the security challenges and terrorism threats in Central Asia and South Caucasus.

This white paper explores the strategic consequences of Russia’s ongoing war in Ukraine for broader security architecture with a focus on four critical areas: the South Caucasus, Central Asia, Mongolia, and Afghanistan. It offers a regional assessment of shifting military alignments, hybrid threats, counterterrorism dynamics, and Canada’s emerging security interests in this evolving landscape.

Key Findings

· Russia’s military overstretch has significantly weakened its role as a regional security guarantor, particularly in Central Asia and the South Caucasus.

· Traditional alliances are being re-evaluated; new security actors such as Turkiye, China, and smaller Western states are filling the resulting vacuum.

· Hybrid threats are rising in formerly Russian-dominated regions, increasing instability and risk.

· The resurgence of terrorism and border insecurity in Central Asia and Afghanistan poses renewed threats to regional and global stability.

· Canada has vital strategic interests in contributing to the mitigation of these risks, leveraging its role in the North Atlantic Treaty Organization (NATO) and longstanding regional partnerships.

· Poland and Romania, as key actors in NATO and EU strategic initiatives, offer replicable models for Canadian-supported deterrence and resilience across Eurasia.

Introduction

Russia’s full-scale invasion of Ukraine in 2022 has not only redefined the contemporary nature of war but exposed deep strategic vulnerabilities within Europe’s security architecture. NATO’s eastern flank was shown to be underprepared for full-scale military aggression, and debates over enlargement and deterrence capabilities have been reinvigorated. Compounding this is the growing uncertainty surrounding US foreign policy under a second Trump administration, casting doubt on the consistency and reliability of transatlantic security commitments.

These shifting dynamics raise critical questions for states on the periphery of NATO and Russia’s former sphere of influence. As they navigate the emerging multipolar order, the need for new strategic calculations, and potentially, alternative or diversified security guarantees, has become paramount.

Russia’s full-scale invasion of Ukraine in 2022 marked a turning point in global security relations. While much focus has remained on NATO’s eastern flank and Western Europe, the war’s ripple effects are being acutely felt across post-Soviet Eurasia. Countries that once relied on Russia for military protection are now exploring new alignments, hedging their defense dependencies, or recalibrating their neutrality.

In addition, this war has been influencing NATO’s counterterrorism strategy. The war has created new opportunities for terrorist groups to exploit and ultimately increase their influence to fill the security vacuum. Among these groups we can mention IS-K/IS-KP – Islamic State in Khorasan Province, the branch of IS – Islamic State – which has been spreading its propaganda in Western societies as well. During the war, Russia has continued to be a trusted partner for Iran, hosting members of another radical group Hamas previously in Moscow. Anti-Western propaganda is familiar for Russia as it has often blamed Western countries in facilitating the rise of terrorist organizations. For example, Maria Zabolotskaya, deputy permanent representative of Russia in United Nations (UN), has argued that emergence of IS in the Middle East and Africa can be blamed on the failed US withdrawal and intervention in Iraq and Libya. She added that the situation in Afghanistan is a vivid example of the West leveraging counterterrorism issues to serve their “selfish geopolitical interests”.

This white paper examines the impacts of Russia’s invasion of Ukraine on the South Caucasus, Central Asia, Mongolia, and Afghanistan, which have been historically influenced by Russian (and Soviet) military presence, as well as political and economic interests, but are navigating an increasingly fragmented and uncertain security environment. While it is true that the war may not be immediately felt within these regions, it will still nevertheless have significant indirect implications for regional security dynamics by potentially escalating terrorism and extremism. Groups like IS, Al-Qaeda, and other Islamist militant organizations remain active not only in conflict zones, but also in launching global terror operations.

For Canadian policymakers, these developments raise key questions about strategic engagement, NATO cooperation, counterterrorism strategy, and regional stability.

Methodology

This white paper employs a qualitative research design, utilizing a combination of primary and secondary sources to investigate the multifaceted challenges faced by selected states in the context of the 2022 invasion of Ukraine. Primary sources include government strategy papers, defense white papers, and formal statements issued by international organizations, such as NATO and the Organization for Security and Co-Operation in Europe (OSCE). Secondary sources include academic literature, policy briefs or analyses from research institutions or think tanks as well as insights derived from expert interviews.

A case study methodology underpins the country-level analysis, enabling in-depth examination of the geopolitical and security implications for Armenia, Georgia, Kazakhstan, Mongolia, and Afghanistan. This approach facilitates comparative insights regarding the regional ramifications of the war in Ukraine, particularly concerning national resilience, foreign policy realignments, and security sector responses.

Historical and Geopolitical Context

For decades following the collapse of the Soviet Union, Russia maintained its influence over the South Caucasus and Central Asia through a combination of hard military presence, economic dependencies, and soft power. The Collective Security Treaty Organization (CSTO), bilateral military treaties, and strategic basing agreements, such as those in Armenia, Kyrgyzstan, and Tajikistan, reflected Moscow’s central role in regional security. As have argued, Russia’s approach was rooted in the belief that the Eastern European neighbourhood should remain within its exclusive sphere of influence, serving both as a security buffer and a geopolitical assertion of status. However, the war in Ukraine has fundamentally destabilized this architecture.

Russia’s 2022 invasion of Ukraine accelerated a visible erosion of Russia’s hegemonic posture in the broader Eurasian region. Yet this war did not begin in 2022; it is the culmination of a broader imperial strategy that began with Russia’s 2008 invasion of Georgia and the 2014 annexation of Crimea. These earlier incursions served as testing grounds for military aggression, hybrid warfare, and the West’s tolerance for territorial revisionism.

The 2008 war in Georgia, which resulted in the occupation of 20% of Georgian territory, was met with limited international pushback and no enduring deterrent mechanisms. This failure arguably emboldened the Kremlin’s further actions in Ukraine and elsewhere, reinforcing a perception of impunity. The erosion of credible deterrence, both conventional and hybrid, has challenged the assumptions underpinning NATO’s posture in Eastern Europe.

The war in Ukraine has also tested the transatlantic relationship, revealing an over-reliance on US leadership and exposing uncertainties about the durability of Western unity, particularly in light of shifts in American administrations. The conflict has reignited debates in Europe about strategic autonomy, defense investment, and burden-sharing within NATO.

While much attention remains focused on Ukraine, the shockwaves of the war have rippled well beyond its borders. Eurasia, particularly the South Caucasus, Central Asia, Mongolia, and Afghanistan have felt the tremors. These regions, historically shaped by Russia’s military and political dominance, now face a strategic vacuum. Russia’s overextension, domestic fragility, and inability to honor security commitments have altered the geopolitical balance. The result is a complex reordering of alliances, threat perceptions, and defense strategies across a vast and vulnerable geography.

Countries like Kazakhstan, traditionally aligned with Moscow, have resisted pressure to support the Kremlin’s war aims and have actively diversified their foreign policy strategies. Some scholars identify a growing trend of “strategic hedging” among Central Asian states, an effort to reduce overdependence on Russian security while cautiously engaging other powers. Meanwhile, Armenia’s disillusionment with the CSTO following Russia’s passivity during the 2020 and 2023 Nagorno-Karabakh crises reflects a broader questioning of Moscow’s reliability.

This erosion has created space for other actors. China, once cautious in its military profile, is now establishing a more visible security footprint in Central Asia. As Raffaello Pantucci (2023) notes, Beijing has invested in border surveillance, counterterrorism cooperation, and limited joint exercises in Tajikistan

and Kyrgyzstan. These changes indicate a transition from Russian-centric security alignment to multipolar, flexible, and interest-based configurations.

NATO’s role in Eurasian security is also undergoing a significant transformation. While formal enlargement remains politically sensitive, NATO has pursued partnership formats, especially with Georgia and, increasingly, Mongolia, to build interoperability and signal political support. Michael Rühle discusses the strategic importance of “NATO’s global partnerships,” which allow for flexible collaboration without formal membership. Georgia’s engagement through the NATO–Georgia Substantial Package has been one of the examples of this evolving cooperation. The Alliance’s “open door” policy is also being undermined by strategic ambiguity, raising doubts among aspirant states about the credibility of Western security guarantees.

In the Georgian case, what was once a society firmly committed to Euro-Atlantic integration has, in recent years, seen a partial retrenchment. Public support for NATO remains high, but political dynamics and growing disillusionment with Western inaction in the face of Russian occupation have fueled uncertainty. This creates both risk and opportunity: risk in the form of democratic backsliding and regional instability, and opportunity for Canada and NATO allies to re-engage with clear, consistent support for democratic reform and territorial integrity.

Yet, NATO’s ability to provide credible security guarantees short of membership remains contested. highlight how ambiguity in NATO’s posture toward aspirant states undermines deterrence and opens space for adversarial manipulation. These concerns are further compounded by shifting US policies and uncertain commitment levels, especially under new administrations. For states in the South Caucasus and Central Asia, this ambiguity feeds the appeal of diversification.

focuses on the new security landscape created by Russia’s war in Ukraine to adapt the new strategy of counter-terrorism and hybrid warfare. According to a particular NATO document, three main tasks has been identified: collective defense, crisis management and cooperative security. As analyzes, this document “identifies terrorism as one of the primary asymmetric threats to the alliance, alongside hybrid warfare…”. Also, the Washington Summit Declaration of 2024 highlighted to prevent the spread of radical ideologies and adapt the counter-terrorism policy.

mentions three main challenges for security architecture: “low-level terrorism,” digital “value chain,” and proliferation of arms. He suggests that NATO’s counter-terrorism strategy should take up a practice of selective reevaluation to answer new terrorism threats. As NATO’s adaptive strategy from the 1990s to the 2000s was focused on strengthening its counter-terrorism efforts, the new security landscape is reshaping NATO’s strategy to be more focused on answering these new threats connecting to arms trafficking from conflict zones. Stockhammer includes the example of when

The literature also emphasizes the growing prevalence of hybrid threats, disinformation campaigns, and covert paramilitary activity. theorize that hegemonic decline is often accompanied by a rise in grey zone tactics, as waning powers seek to maintain influence without triggering direct confrontation. Russia’s increased use of cyber and disinformation tools in Georgia and Kazakhstan supports this thesis. Similarly, China’s security strategy in Central Asia increasingly includes digital authoritarianism, with exported surveillance technologies and cyber-cooperation compacts.

These hybrid methods are particularly concerning in contexts of weak governance and democratic fragility, where external manipulation can exploit societal divisions. Scholars like have long warned about the vulnerability of aspiring democracies on Russia’s border, and recent events in Georgia and Armenia suggest that these vulnerabilities are being actively exploited in the post-Ukraine war environment.

The South Caucasus region – including Georgia, Armenia, and Azerbaijan – remains vulnerable to terrorism largely due to its proximity to unstable areas such as the North Caucasus, Turkiye, and Iran, as well as the movement of foreign terrorist fighters (FTF) linked to conflicts in Syria and Iraq that have involved IS and other radical Islamist groups. These conflicts have created fertile ground for radicalization that some scholars suggest may further intensify the risk of radicalization; they express concern regarding the possibility of individuals returning home and further engaging with radical ideologies among local communities. While Armenia has been less affected by Islamist movements, the instability following the Karabakh conflict may nonetheless have left fertile ground for hybrid threats to form. In addition, there are concerns about Syrian militants (mainly from groups with ties to jihadist organizations) being transported to the South Caucasus to fight alongside Azerbaijani forces, particularly since the second Nagorno-Karabakh war. The ongoing conflict in Ukraine could exacerbate the , with some potentially being diverted to the South Caucasus, either

The Pankisi Gorge region in Georgia gained notoriety in the 2000s as a site of jihadist recruitment, a refuge site for Islamic militants, and a key transit route. After the 9/11 terrorist attacks, Western intelligence raised alarms on presence of Al-Qaeda in the Gorge. According to various sources, Arab foreign fighters who participated in the Chechen wars also received training in the region – a practice that Russia frequently cited in its accusations of Georgia harboring terrorists and failing to control its borders. From 2014 to 2015, Georgia re-emerged in international media coverage when IS rose to power in Iraq, drawing foreign fighters from around the world – including Georgia – to the battlefields of Iraq and subsequently, Syria. According to different sources, approximately 50 to 200 fighters left Georgia to fight in the ranks of IS or other terrorist organizations. As the war in Ukraine continues, it may present Russia with yet another opportunity to accuse others of providing safe haven to foreign terrorist fighters.

Recent reflections, including by , highlight that international engagement in Afghanistan, particularly by Western powers including Canada, was compromised by flawed diplomatic design and operational fragmentation. In his assessment of the , Rahim identifies key failures such as the exclusion of the Afghan government, unrealistic timelines imposed by the United States, and a lack of impartial mediation as primary factors in the collapse of political settlement efforts. These deficiencies, compounded by internal divisions among Afghan elites, resulted in a fragile negotiating structure vulnerable to collapse under Taliban pressure. Canada’s mission, like that of its NATO allies, was constrained by unclear objectives and shifting operational mandates, a point echoed by Canadian commentators in major outlets like The Globe and Mail (2023).

The collapse of the Afghan Republic and the Taliban’s return to power has had immediate and long-term security spillovers in the region. Central Asian states are particularly concerned about cross-border terrorism, refugee surges, narcotics trafficking, and the spread of extremist ideologies. With Russia distracted and weakened by its invasion of Ukraine, and China reluctant to assume deep security commitments, the region

faces a growing vacuum of counterterrorism leadership. In this context, Rahim’s critique serves as a cautionary framework for future interventions: local legitimacy, inclusive diplomacy, and long-term strategic alignment must form the foundation of external engagement. Canada’s policy going forward should include lessons learned from Afghanistan’s collapse, as well as new mechanisms to support border-state resilience through coordinated regional intelligence, multilateral diplomacy, and support for community-level stabilization initiatives.

Afghanistan, however, presents another dimension of strategic instability. The US forces withdrawal and the Taliban’s return to power have turned the country into a potential source of terrorist activity and transnational criminal networks. Reports by the International Crisis Group and the United States Institute of Peace warn of the risks posed by IS-KP and other extremist groups to regional security, particularly in Tajikistan, Uzbekistan, and Turkmenistan. The new atmosphere gave more flexibility to various extremist groups to regroup or collaborate with each other. There are three main terrorist groups operating in Afghanistan now: the .

Afghanistan falling to Taliban rule has created a multitude of challenges for international relations. Despite the fact that no country or international organization formally recognizes the leadership of Taliban, some maintain diplomatic relations. Central Asian countries such as Uzbekistan and Turkmenistan continue to engage in diplomatic talks with Taliban, focusing mostly on regional economic issues. All five Central Asian states have kept embassies in Kabul despite the fallout.

As Russia focuses more on Ukraine, IS-KP has more possibility to increase its influence outside Afghanistan too. IS-KP is estimated to have about , including foreign recruits from Central Asia and Europe. IS-KP carried out its first terrorist attack at Kabul airport immediately after the US military withdrawal in 2021, signaling its intent to challenge the Taliban for control over Afghanistan. As result of the , 170 Afghans and 13 US militants were killed. And although IS has lost its territorial strongholds in Iraq and Syria, the group has nonetheless quickly shifted its strategy to forming smaller factions across various countries: “”.

The United Nations Security Council (UNSC) has expressed concern over the situation in Afghanistan and IS-KP since the US withdrawal in 2021. As Vladimir Voronkov, UN Under-Secretary-General mentioned, “”. In this context, some scholars consider IS-KP as the most formidable extremist group, with . It has plotted more terrorist attacks since 2021 when Taliban came to power. The reasons of the increased terrorist attacks are the tactical shift that began in 2019 and chaos and vacuum in Afghanistan. while the Taliban referred to IS-KP members as Salafis or Khawarij, or heretical extremists.

It is important to mention that IS-KP members, which became one of the main threats for the security of Afghanistan and Central Asia, who organize terrorist attacks in Afghanistan, are from Central Asian countries and mainly, Tajikistan. For example, the first terrorist attack following the onset of the Ukraine war occurred in Kabul in 2022 and was carried out by of IS. In March 2023, a Tajik militant assassinated the , , who had been a promient figure in the fight against the IS-KP network in Nangarhar. Later, in December 2023, a member from Central Asia residing in Germany . These attacks were flollowed by several terrorist attacks in Iran – killing 90 people – and Turkiye – killing one person.

This continued into 2024, where IS-KP orchestrated a series of terrorist attacks across Afghanistan. Among the most notable was an assault on , the Afghan Taliban governor of Nimroz, who narrowly escaped execution by a faction of IS-KP Tajik member. On March 21, 2024, an Uzbek national affiliated with . Following this, IS expanded its operations beyond the Khorasan region and launched several high-profile attacks. Among them was a widely publicized suicide bombing in Kerman province, Iran, during the anniversary procession of the General Qassem Soleimani’s death. According to the Iranian investigators, one of the terrorists was of who had received training instructions in Afghanistan (Table 1).

Furthermore, among those noteworthy included terrorist attacks attributed to IS-KP on March 24, 2024, which saw Tajik nationals storm and kill 145 people. Such terrorist attacks showed the tendency, that since IS-KP became active in Afghanistan, more individuals from Central Asian countries – mainly ethnic Tajiks – have been engaged in terrorist activities. This trend created the fertile ground for radicalization in Central Asia’s region that already experienced Islamic radical movements in the 1990s.

2025 was no exception to terrorist violence, as several high-profile terrorist attacks in Turkiye and Russia took place. In an effort to thwart future terrorist attacks, the Turkish government carried out a series of operations targeting IS cells across the country. More than three hundred individuals were arrested, most of them originating from Central Asia. Subsequent investigations revealed that several of the detainees were high-ranking members of the IS-KP network operating across Central Asia, Turkiye, and the Caucasus.

Due to IS-KP’s terrorist activities beyond Afghanistan’s borders, neighbouring countries – particularly in – have found it necessary to engage with the Taliban, not only to pursue counterterrorism objectives but to also advance their own economic and political interests in the region. Unlike the IS-KP, which poses a greater regional security threat, the Taliban has been viewed as a more viable partner in reshaping the regional security landscape. Central Asian countries have maintained their embassies in Kabul, signaling a pragmatic approach to diplomacy with Taliban governance. As Turgunbaeva & Ghiasi suggest, for Central Asian countries, the Taliban proves to be the better partner than IS-KP, as the latter has already attacked two Central Asian countries: Uzbekistan and Tajikistan. Additionally, while China seeks stability in Afghanistan for fulfilling the interests served by the Belt and Road Initiative (BRI) and to prevent the spread the radical ideology, Central Asian countries also try to stabilize the region.

The persistence of Central Asian militants remains an overwhelming challenge to international security. Since 2023, the region has been a wellspring of terrorist operations organized by its nationals, whose reach has extended from Europe to the Middle East. These attacks, carried out across countries such as Iran, Russia, Afghanistan, and Turkiye, bear the unmistakable imprint of Central Asian involvement. Although, despite the troubling export of violence, the post-Soviet Central Asian states themselves have, thus far, remained largely untouched by such acts of terrorism on their own soil.

Uzbekistan was the first country to host a Taliban delegation, led by the Deputy Prime Minister Mawlawi Abdul Salam Hanafi in September 2022. In 2024 the Uzbek Prime Minister visited Kabul to discuss the trade projects. Kyrgyzstan’s relations with Afghanistan continue to be shaped in part by the presence of a strong Afghan-Kyrgyz minority in the nation. In 2021, Deputy Chairman of the Security Council Taalatbek Masadykov met with Taliban ministers to address issues important to this Afghan-Kyrgyz electorate. In September 2024, cooperation had expanded to include trade and energy infrastructure, which was soon followed by agreements in agriculture and transit.

Kazakhstan has focused its engagement with Afghanistan on economic opportunities, particularly in the chemical, mining, and metallurgical sectors. The Kazak Prime Minister led a delegation to Kabul to participate in a Kazakhstan-Afghanistan business forum, highlighting growing bilateral commercial ties.

Tajikistan, despite being the main regional opponent of the Taliban, has established trade relations with Afghanistan and signed an agreement worth $120 million USD. In addition, in 2023, Tajikistan opened five joint border markets with Afghanistan.

Turkmenistan maintains a neutral stance and primarily engages with Afghanistan through the lens of energy cooperation. Its principal interest lies in the progress of the TAPI – Turkmenistan-Afghanistan-Pakistan-India gas pipeline. As a result, Turkmen officials’ meetings with the Taliban have mostly focused on advancing this strategic energy TAPI project.

While not a formal diplomatic move, the US has also begun to engage with the Taliban on a limited basis. On March 23, 2025, they removed three high-profile members of the Haqqani network – including Sirajuddin Haqqani, the group’s leader and the Taliban’s acting Interior Minister – from its most-wanted list. According to the Taliban, are Sirajuddin Haqqani’s brother and nephew.

The United States added the Haqqani Network as one of the deadliest groups connected to Taliban – operating in Pakistan and bordering Afghanistan – to the foreign terrorist organizations list in 2012. In doing so, they offered $5 to 10 USD reward for information leading to the capture of its leaders. However, , causing larger questions to arise regarding the future role and presence of US hegemony in the region. As scholars mention, this removal followed the Taliban’s release of US citizen George Glezmann, who had been detained in Afghanistan since 2022.

With Russia weakened and NATO’s reach limited, alternative security and development frameworks have gained prominence. The Central Asia–Caucasus–Europe (CACE) corridor, for example, envisions a strategic and economic bridge from Central Asia through the South Caucasus to Europe, bypassing Russian-controlled routes and creating new geoeconomic fault lines. Meanwhile, the , spearheaded by Poland and supported by NATO allies, connects the Adriatic, Baltic, and Black Seas in a project of economic resilience, energy diversification, and digital infrastructure.

In considering NATO members’ strategic roles, Romania has been emphasized in discussions about NATO’s deterrence on the eastern flank and the EU’s updated Black Sea Strategy (). Romania stands at the intersection of NATO’s military initiatives and the EU’s efforts to enhance connectivity, economic resilience, and maritime security in the Black Sea. Also, Poland’s assertive role in the Three Seas Initiative (3SI) highlights a regional approach to infrastructure, energy security, and defense cooperation. The 3SI provides a framework for enhanced Central European resilience in the face of growing Russian assertiveness and fluctuating US involvement in Europe.

Graham highlights Mongolia’s position as a neutral buffer balancing Russian and Chinese pressures. The Ukraine war has further encouraged Mongolia to diversify security and economic partnerships, including through engagement with Canada and other liberal democracies. Mongolia is geographically distant from Ukraine, although the war’s influence on global security dynamics may affect the region’s stability and terrorism risks. Mongolia is close to China and Russia, rendering them an indirect target for the potential exporting of radical ideologies from the extremist groups. As a neutral power between China and Russia, Mongolia may be targeted by the extremist groups allied with the Russian and Chinese state – countries which are on the same side in Ukraine war.

Mongolia recognizes the global threat that terrorism and violent extremist present to an increasingly uncertain and multipolar world. Since 2023, Mongolia has been a member of the UN Office Counter-Terrorism (UNOCT) program and established the Passenger Information Unit of Mongolia. It became the fourth country to join this program and the first Asian country to establish an UNOCT unit (). According to the UN representative of Mongolia, the country is continuing to take steps to increase awareness of, and fight against, disinformation and propaganda. In 2024, Mongolia hosted the conference titled “Addressing the prevailing Digital Information Disorder: Countering the Use of the Internet by Terrorists and Extremists,” organized by OSCE Transnational Threats Department together with the National Counter-Terrorism Council of Mongolia (). In addition, the “Case for Central Asia–Caucasus Engagement” () proposes a new strategic platform to integrate diplomatic, development, and deterrence policy toward post-Soviet Eurasia. This vision aligns closely with Canada’s potential for flexible engagement and soft security.

Against this backdrop, countries are hedging their bets. While some still look to NATO as the ultimate guarantor, others have diversified their options, seeking bilateral arrangements, new regional alignments, or transactional partnerships with authoritarian powers. Strategic pluralism, rather than bloc politics, defines the new Eurasian security order.

Canadian Strategic Engagement

Poland, through its leadership in the Three Seas Initiative (3SI), represents a strategic anchor for Central and Eastern Europe in countering Russian influence and fostering Euro-Atlantic cooperation. As highlighted by , Poland has played a central role in building regional infrastructure, energy interconnectivity, and digital resilience across the 3SI member states. These efforts reduce dependency on Russian-controlled supply lines and enhance regional autonomy in the face of hybrid and conventional threats.

The 3SI complements broader NATO and EU frameworks by focusing on practical development and connectivity between the Adriatic, Baltic, and Black Seas. For countries in the South Caucasus and Central

Asia, it offers a vision of post-Soviet regionalism that emphasizes integration, resilience, and Western alignment. Integrating the Three Seas Initiative into Canadian policy considerations provides a valuable model for aligning economic development with security stabilization across the broader post-Soviet periphery.

As regional actors seek to build more autonomous strategic and economic futures, new frameworks such as the proposed Central Asia–Caucasus–Europe (CACE) corridor have gained traction. The CACE initiative, as highlighted by The National Interest (2025), envisions a geoeconomic and geopolitical link connecting Central Asia and the South Caucasus directly to Europe, bypassing traditional Russian-controlled routes. The corridor promotes diversified energy exports, secure supply chains, and multilateral infrastructure cooperation. It also reinforces the strategic importance of Georgia and Azerbaijan as transit hubs between East and West.

In this context, offers an alternative regional architecture that counters Russian and Chinese monopolies on overland infrastructure. For Canada, supporting such corridors may serve dual objectives: reducing regional dependency on adversarial actors, and facilitating sustainable development and security cooperation among emerging democracies. Integrating the CACE vision into Canadian foreign policy also complements NATO’s military posture with a civilian, development-focused track aimed at long-term stabilization.

Recent policy commentary underscores two interlinked narratives in Eurasia’s evolving security order: the significance of credible NATO-aligned deterrence models (as seen in Romania), and the consequences of softening international stances toward Russia’s occupation of Crimea. Recognizing Russia’s annexation of Crimea as legitimate would embolden other revisionist powers and fundamentally erode international legal norms regarding sovereignty. Meanwhile, Romania has demonstrated how mid-sized NATO allies can reinforce the alliance’s eastern posture through infrastructure development, multinational coordination, and hybrid threat management.

These examples illustrate the critical importance of defending international legal standards and investing in alliance readiness. Canada’s strategic outlook would benefit from incorporating these dual lessons: defending non-recognition policies in contested regions like Crimea while simultaneously learning from NATO forward-deployed frameworks in countries like Romania. Taken together, these academic and policy perspectives provide the analytical foundation for understanding Eurasia’s post-Ukraine security recalibration – and for formulating Canada’s strategic options in response.

Regional Security Implications

Across the South Caucasus, Central Asia, Mongolia, and Afghanistan, Russia’s declining influence has triggered regional realignments, new threat landscapes, and emerging opportunities for external engagement. For Canada, understanding these dynamics is critical to shaping effective policy responses.

In the South Caucasus, Armenia has grown increasingly disillusioned with Russia, particularly following Moscow’s failure to act during Azerbaijan’s 2023 offensive in Nagorno-Karabakh. Yerevan is now actively pursuing closer ties with the EU and the United States. Azerbaijan, meanwhile, has capitalized on Russia’s invasion in Ukraine to boost its military cooperation with Turkiye and Israel, positioning itself as a dominant regional power. Georgia, while maintaining its strategic commitment to NATO integratio

struggle with domestic political instability and the enduring occupation of Abkhazia and South Ossetia by Russian forces.

In Central Asia, countries like Kazakhstan and Uzbekistan have distanced themselves from Moscow’s geopolitical agenda. Kazakhstan notably refused to recognize Russia’s annexation of Ukrainian territories, reaffirming its commitment to territorial integrity as a core foreign policy principle. Kazakhstan has deepened defense partnerships with Turkiye, NATO, and select Western actors, while Uzbekistan – traditionally outside the CSTO – has pursued independent counterterrorism and security dialogues with the United States and China. China’s growing footprint, especially in Tajikistan, highlights Beijing’s transactional interest in border security and regime stability rather than full-spectrum defense cooperation.

At the same time, the region is facing increased pressure from transnational threats. The reassertion of Taliban control in Afghanistan and the resurgence of IS-KP have heightened fears of terrorism, arms trafficking, and extremist ideology spilling into Central Asia. Weak border management capacities and the erosion of Russia’s traditional role as a security bulwark have created a dangerous vacuum. Parallel to these trends, cyber and information warfare have intensified. Kazakhstan, Kyrgyzstan, and others have been targeted by Russian disinformation campaigns aiming to undermine public trust in democratic institutions and discourage Western engagement. These hybrid threats have led to growing interest in cyber cooperation with NATO-aligned actors.

Mongolia, long maintaining a neutral foreign policy posture, is also recalibrating. Concerns about Russian unpredictability and Chinese dominance have pushed Ulaanbaatar to pursue closer security and economic ties with democratic partners, including the US, Japan, and Canada. Mongolia’s strategic location and democratic credentials position it as a valuable partner for middle-power engagement.

Afghanistan remains a critical axis of instability. The Taliban’s unchecked consolidation of power, Russia’s diminished role, and China’s limited security ambition have allowed terrorist groups such as IS-KP to flourish. Cross-border smuggling of arms and narcotics continues to destabilize the region. For bordering states like Tajikistan and Uzbekistan, this poses a direct security threat, prompting interest in greater intelligence-sharing and joint counterterrorism mechanisms.

Together, these developments suggest that Canada has an opportunity to deepen its role as a stabilizing actor. This includes advancing NATO partnerships, co-sponsoring cybersecurity and counterterrorism initiatives, and investing in diplomatic and development programs that enhance regional resilience.

Future Security Scenarios and Policy Recommendations

remains one of the most significant violations of international law in recent history. Recognizing this act, or failing to robustly oppose it, would send dangerous signals to other revisionist powers seeking to alter borders by force. As noted in the analysis by The National Interest (2024), legitimizing Russia’s control over Crimea would reward aggression and erode international norms surrounding sovereignty and territorial integrity.

For aspiring NATO-aligned nations such as Georgia and Moldova, the failure to maintain a firm stance on Crimea undermines the credibility of international deterrence. It also emboldens separatist movements supported by external powers, particularly in Abkhazia, South Ossetia, and Transnistria. In Central Asia,

states with Russian-speaking minorities observe the situation closely, wary of Moscow’s justifications for intervention under the pretense of “protecting compatriots.”

Canada’s unwavering support for Ukraine’s territorial integrity remains essential. Backsliding on Crimea would not only harm Kyiv’s war effort but also undermine Canadian diplomatic credibility across Eurasia. As part of NATO’s eastern flank engagement, Canadian policymakers must continue advocating for non-recognition, bolster security assistance to at-risk states, and ensure hybrid threats exploiting ambiguous status territories do not escalate into new conflicts.

Romania has emerged as a pivotal actor in NATO’s Black Sea strategy, showcasing how smaller but committed allies can meaningfully reinforce alliance posture in contested regions. Following Russia’s invasion of Ukraine, Romania rapidly expanded its defense spending, modernized its armed forces, and upgraded key infrastructure, including the Mihail Kogălniceanu Air Base — set to become one of NATO’s largest air hubs in Europe. Romania’s role is further reinforced through its leadership in regional maritime security efforts, including trilateral cooperation with Bulgaria and Turkiye to counter drifting mines in the Black Sea.

Moreover, Romania has played a critical role in supporting Ukraine’s economic resilience by facilitating the transit of over 29 million tons of Ukrainian grain through its ports, despite Russian attempts to blockade Black Sea maritime routes. It also hosts the Headquarters Multinational Corps Southeast in Sibiu, enhancing NATO’s regional command and control capacity in crisis scenarios.

Canada can view Romania as a strategic partner and operational hub within NATO’s Black Sea architecture. Joint participation in military exercises would help build interoperability with Romanian and other allied forces. Canada could contribute cyber defense expertise, helping Romania counter hybrid threats and disinformation campaigns that have intensified in the region. Infrastructure support and humanitarian collaboration could also be explored to reinforce Canada’s commitment to Eastern European security and resilience. This model of NATO-aligned deterrence in Romania can serve as a valuable reference for engaging other aspirant or front-line states, particularly Georgia and Armenia, as they navigate uncertain security environments amid a weakening Russian presence and ambiguous Western guarantees.

As Eurasian states reassess their security futures in the post-Ukraine context, two contrasting strategic directions are emerging:

Option A: NATO as a security anchor despite its limited footprint beyond Eastern Europe, some aspirant states (like Georgia) still view the alliance as the ultimate guarantor of their sovereignty and territorial integrity. For these countries, deepening interoperability with NATO standards, participating in joint exercises, and securing bilateral defense commitments from individual NATO members are seen as vital steps toward eventual membership or at least enhanced deterrence.

Option B: Strategic diversification and bilateral guarantees given uncertainties surrounding NATO’s future enlargement and potential policy shifts under a new US administration, other regional actors may opt for diversified security partnerships. This could include closer defense ties with China, or even non-aligned groupings. These actors may pursue flexible arrangements that prioritize regime security, border control, or cyber defense, rather than full-spectrum alliance integration.

Strategic Recommendations for Canada

• Expand NATO regional initiatives through technical support and military training missions.

• Deepen defense cooperation with Mongolia, Georgia, and Kazakhstan.

• Invest in regional CT capacity-building, particularly in border zones adjacent to Afghanistan.

• Contribute to hybrid threat awareness and resilience by supporting anti-disinformation programs.

• Engage multilaterally in regional defense forums, including OSCE dialogues and confidence-building platforms.

• Enhance counterterrorism cooperation with Central Asian Republics, Georgia, Azerbaijan, Mongolia

• Participate on framing the Security Policy and border control mechanisms together with Central Asian and South Caucasus countries

• Deradicalization programs – several countries in the region of Central Asia and South Caucasus have implemented de-radicalization programs to counter extremist ideologies – collaborating in adopting such programs will facilitate the process that thus far, been struggling to gain political traction.

• Advance Strategic Engagement with CACE states through:
  • Backing multilateral efforts that increase the corridor’s resilience to hybrid threats.
  • Encouraging diplomatic alignment with CACE-participating states as part of Canada’s broader Eurasia engagement strategy
  • Supporting infrastructure financing and regional governance frameworks through international institutions.
• Consider engagement with the 3SI through:
  • Investment in critical infrastructure and digital connectivity projects led by trusted allies like Poland.
  • Policy dialogue and technical assistance in the 3SI’s energy and cyber defense pillars.
  • Support for South Caucasus participation in transregional linkages with 3SI corridors, particularly through Georgia.

Conclusion

The ripple effects of Russia’s war in Ukraine extend far beyond Europe. In Eurasia, the reshuffling of defense alignments and emergence of new security actors are already reshaping the regional landscape. Canada, as a capable actor within NATO and the global security community, must engage strategically to protect its interests, support its allies, and contribute to long-term regional stability.

This white paper underscores the urgency of proactive engagement across counterterrorism and multilateral defense diplomacy. The evolving security vacuum must be addressed with foresight, allied coordination, and a renewed commitment to regional security partnerships.

Canada has both a responsibility and an opening. By advancing its contributions to NATO’s deterrence efforts, supporting resilience-focused development corridors like the Three Seas Initiative and the Central

Asia–Caucasus–Europe platform, and deepening counterterrorism cooperation with frontline states, Canada can reinforce stability and uphold democratic values in an increasingly contested region.

Table 1

The post Beyond the Battlefield: The Effects of Russia’s War in Ukraine on the Regional Security in the South Caucasus, Central Asia, Mongolia and Afghanistan appeared first on Eastern European and Transatlantic Network.

In one of the most closely contested elections in Polish history, Karol Nawrocki narrowly defeated liberal Warsaw mayor, Rafał Trzaskowski, to secure the Polish presidency on May 18^th, 2025, with 50.9 percent of the vote. The election saw a historic voter turnout of 71.0 percent, signalling a high level of civic engagement across the country. Nawrocki was politically backed by Poland’s Law and Justice party (PiS) – a right-wing populist party that is known to espouse conservative social values, emphasize the importance of national identity and sovereignty, and has overall been associated with ethnonationalist political rhetoric. Over the past two decades, PiS has promoted a vision of Polish identity rooted in traditional Catholic values and cultural norms while otherwise consolidating power through appeals to popular will and skepticism directed at liberal democratic institutions. This ethnonationalist push continues to unfold alongside the pro-European leadership of Prime Minister Donald Tusk, leader of the Polish Civic Platform party (PO), ultimately revealing stark ideological cracks and strategic revisionism taking place at the highest levels of Polish government.

This white paper offers a theoretical examination of Poland’s evolving political and mnemonic landscape leading up to the election of Nawrocki, situating it within broader domestic and regional power shifts and politics. By mnemonic landscape, I am referring to the dynamic field of memory politics through which state and political narratives of the past are constructed, contested, institutionalized, and negotiated within particular political, cultural, and geographical contexts. Mnemonic landscapes encompass the discursive, legal, and affective structures – such as commemorations, memory laws, and judicial rulings – through which states, and civil societies, engage with historical memory within and between states. In hybrid regimes like Poland, the mnemonic landscape is a critical site of governance where national identity, moral authority, and political legitimacy are shaped by competing visions of history and responsibility. I take an interdisciplinary approach in considering the mnemonic and security landscape of Poland, bringing in considerations of critical geography, critical security studies (CSS), International Relations (IR), revisionist history, and transitional justice. In doing so, however, I argue out of the standpoint of a practitioner of care ethics: a feminist approach to morality and issues of justice that foregrounds our relational embeddedness and ethical responsibilities to particular others – near and far – within networks of interdependence and relationality. As Joan Tronto and Berenice Fisher have described, care is a “species of activity that includes everything we do to maintain, continue, and repair ‘our’ world so that we can live in it as well as possible” – a world that includes our bodies, environments, and relationships ().

Situated within this care ethics standpoint, this white paper engages with an interdisciplinary array of research to ultimately suggest that current understandings of democratic backsliding, ethnonationalism, and mnemonic security can and should be re-evaluated through lenses of care. Specifically, it brings the feminist approach of care ethics – understood as a relational, responsibility-oriented approach to morality – into conversation with the study of hybrid regimes and the politics of memory. By emphasizing the ethics of care as a framework for action and practice, my approach aims to highlight how state-led mnemonic governance is not only a discursive construction or juridical phenomenon, but one that materially shapes the conditions of relationality, recognition and moral responsibility for the past, present, and future within and across national borders. In contexts like Poland and Ukraine, where historical memory is increasingly instrumentalized to consolidate political power and produce moralized national narratives, I believe care ethics offers an approach that is attentive to how narratives of the past shape present realities and common futures, while also offering more dialogical, reparative, and relational approaches to justice, recovery, and the building of democracy.

This white paper begins by tracing Poland’s post-Socialist trajectory, which, despite early democratic gains, has increasingly exhibited the characteristics of a hybrid regime – defined by the legal façade of democratic institutions and checks-and-balances while consolidating executive power and a moralized national identity. Central to this trajectory, I aim to show, is the rise of ethnonationalist governance, in which appeals to national memory and identity are politicized to legitimate reforms, rollback of human rights, marginalize dissent, and assert cultural homogeneity – particularly through what are often termed “memory laws” and the instrumentalization of institutions like the Constitutional Tribunal.

Section two narrows its focus upon the structure of the Polish judiciary to consider how it is not only a battleground of democratic backsliding but can be understood as a site where moralized authoritarianism is taking shape via affective governance and a narrowed jurisprudential and juridical horizon. As readers will see, ethnonationalist populists have leveraged affective appeals – rooted in moral symbolism, national identity, and historical memory – to cultivate civic trust in partisan institutions while redirecting trust outward toward supranational actors like the European Union (EU). Section three then shifts to also consider the ongoing war in Ukraine, examining how Russia’s invasion has affected mnemonic and geopolitical alliances, intensified nationalist sentiment and movements, and produced new pressures for regional solidarity, particularly within the EU and NATO. Finally, I conclude with a reflection on the evolving dynamics of Polish-Ukrainian memory politics in the shadow of Russia’s own. In reference to the Volyn tragedy, I suggest the epistemic tools and approaches of care ethics offer diplomatic audiences and broader global civil society the opportunity to transition away from rigid, juridical models of justice and moral responsibility towards those of a more dialogical and collaborative nature, including practices of mnemonic rapprochement.

Polish Party Politics: PiS, PO, and the Fractures within the Polish Electorate

Since the fall of socialist rule in 1989, Poland has undergone a multi-stage process of democratic transition. In studies of political science and IR, this is commonly referred to as a process of democratization – a political transformation in which a non-democratic state (oftentimes, authoritarian in character) regime transitions into a democratic one via the institutionalization of democratic norms and principles, including free and fair elections, separation of powers, the rule of law, and practices of political pluralism ().

Soviet troops did not officially leave Polish soil until 1993, and though it is often understood as the end to a broader era of Soviet-style occupation (Mishtal, 2015), the process of democratization nonetheless took root in Polish society through a peaceful dismantling of the social system in favour of a nascent, pluralist democracy. – a grassroots and intellectual movement facilitated largely by Polish labourers and intellectuals – played a foundational role in this transition, helping to contribute to the establishment of democratic norms and institutions in Polish civil society (). By the mid- to late-1990s, significant structural reforms had begun, including constitutional amendments, capitalist market liberalization, and institutionalization of free and fair elections, to “return” Poland to Europe. While political party fragmentation and political instability remained, these early years nonetheless laid an important foundation of democratic architecture.

Party politics continued to take shape into the early 2000s and the Polish Civic Platform (PO), along with the Law and Justice (PiS) party, emerged as influential parties in an otherwise pluralistic party system. As PO and PiS largely came to dominate the public discourse and party system, it became evident that social forces beyond democracy were beginning to shape the contours of governance in Poland. Poland’s accession to the European Union (EU) in 2004 consolidated its democratic transformation and was ultimately marked by broad public support, as . A review of literature and public attitudes at the time, however, reveals how much of this enthusiasm stemmed from promises of economic growth and prosperity for everyday Poles by Polish elite (; ; 2002;  ; ; ; ; ; ; Duch, 2017; ; ; ). Despite broad support, EU accession also brought to the surface bubbling tensions around issues of national identity, religion, the family, and the perception of Brussels’ influence over domestic law.

As skepticism of Brussels’ influence over Polish civil society deepened, nationalist and populist narratives gained traction, many of them rooted in the unresolved and unrecognized memory politics of the Soviet era following World War II. As political scientist Maria Malksoo highlights, Poland – like many other post-socialist Eastern European countries – has long navigated what has felt to be a contradictory position; since 1991, Poland and the Baltic states have taken up a curious post-Cold War foreign policy strategy consisting of a “combination of simultaneously seeking recognition from and exercising resistance to the hegemonic ‘core European’ narrative of what ‘Europe’ is all about” (). This in-between position was mirrored in domestic politics, as fragmentation of the centre-right – itself a product of unresolved symbolic struggles inherited from the Solidarity era – created a political vacuum into which more hardline actors like PiS could consolidate power (). Fusing social conservatism with populist anti-elitism, PiS successfully recast national history as a tool of political legitimation and portrayed themselves as guardians of Polish sovereignty and identity against alleged liberal decadence and supranational control. The party pendulum would swing between PO and PiS from 2005 to 2015, before PiS eventually clinched a majority government in 2015, bringing with it a wave of political and institutional reforms that shook the democratic foundation of Poland.

, every Polish President and Prime Minister who has assumed office has been a member of PiS or PO and since 2015, PiS has implemented a series of structural reforms that have significantly undermined Polish democratic institutions and norms. These include asserting political control over the judiciary by , creating newfound , and an overall – prompting EU criticism for violating rule-of-law standards. PiS also , , and , a relationship which some scholars . Poles voiced their dissatisfaction through the parliamentary elections in 2023, wherein the newly elected PO government under Donald Tusk to restore judicial independence, repair democratic institutions, and realign Poland with EU values. While Tusk’s pro-EU administration has made efforts to reverse PiS-era reforms, progress remains contested and slow, particularly as PiS continues to control the presidency and other key state institutions (; ; ). Nawrocki’s presidency, therefore, may mark a continuation of the broader institutional to-and-fro now largely characterizing Poland’s democratic landscape; as Polish media has reported, the 2025 presidential election “” the Polish electorate. Although Nawrocki ran as an independent, his campaign was institutionally backed by PiS, due in large part to Nawrocki’s own alignment with the party’s brand of hyperconservative nationalism, populism, and strategic invocation of memory politics. On Friday, June 20, 2025, Prime Minister Donald Tusk called for an electoral recount, citing the narrow results: “[.” Just days later, Tusk faced leadership challenges of his own, narrowly surviving by a margin of 239 to 210, and while the outcome of the vote reaffirms the Tusk government’s mandate, it also laid bare the deepening polarization now marking Poland’s institutions – possibly foreshadowing further political friction in the months and years ahead.

In recent years, scholars reflecting upon Poland’s democratic backsliding have used a variety of terms to describe this transition; for the purpose of this article, it is easiest to understand Poland as a “hybrid regime.” Hybrid regimes, are largely characterized by the “skilful construction of a façade of democratic and rule-of-law standards.” This façade enables the consolidation of executive power while maintaining an effective veneer of constitutional legitimacy that satisfies minimal international obligations and rhetorical legitimacy at home (Kubińska and Luining, 2024). In Poland, this has been facilitated largely through the politicization of the Constitutional Tribunal (CT), along with the legal regulation of historical memory via what are commonly referred to as “memory laws” – both of which have been instrumental in constructing a hybrid regime under the guise of defending Polish identity, sovereignty, and “mnemonic security.”

In the simplest of terms, memory laws refer to the legislative acts and practices that institutionalize particular narratives of historical events, figures, and/or movements. Over the last ten to fifteen years, memory laws have proliferated throughout much of Eastern Europe, in large part a response to what scholars have called “mnemonic wars” – symbolic and increasingly, kinetic battles, over whose version of the past will shape present-day statehood, identity, and international status (; ; ). In the case of Poland, and its neighbour Ukraine, these confrontations evoke a sense of being caught between a rock and a hard place – trapped between conflicting, if not rivalrous, historical imaginations and political expectations of the past, present, and future world order.

The West and Russia each offer respective tales regarding the historical tenure of their state projects; in the West, the initial introduction of memory laws swept through Germany, France, and the rest of Western Europe in the 1990s, largely in an attempt to recognize the horrors of the Holocaust and to prevent such horrors from ever taking place again. While differentiating itself from the collapsed Soviet regime was not an explicitly stated goal by the West, such a result was nonetheless achieved. In contrast, Russia has demonstrated what has been described as “mnemonical positionalism”– that is, a strategy in which so-called “official” (state-based) memory is invoked to stabilize national identity, uphold power status, and justify overall international behaviour – be it benign or violent – under the guise of protecting historical truth (). In the Russian case, this most often takes place through the invocation of the so-called “Great Patriotic War,” (Великая Отечественная Война), delimiting the period of 1941-1945 (rather than 1939-1945) in order to divert attention away from the that resulted in the invasion and occupation of Poland.

It is thus in response to these competing memory orders that structure Europe’s broader socio-political fabric that Central and Eastern European (CEE) states, including Poland and Ukraine, invoke their own version of memory politics and mnemonic security narratives. As ) argues, memory orders are hierarchically structured regimes of historical representation that shape how state identities are recognized by others, evaluated bilaterally and multilaterally, and either recognized, validated, or marginalized within global civil society. Within this context, Poland and Ukraine seek to not only confront and challenge dominant mnemonic narratives – particularly those by Russia, who in many ways still perceives itself as the “continuator state” of the Soviet Union (USSR) (Malksoo, 2021) – but to also reassert themselves within the broader European memory order that continues to largely be shaped by (albeit, at times, reductive) narratives of historical justice and liberal-democratic identities. In Poland, a project of mnemonic revisionism has taken place in more recent years – particularly under PiS governance – where state actors have sought “to change elements of the current international memory order, including internal stratification” (Malksoo, 2021). In contrast, Ukraine’s own memory politics have largely been leveraged in support of a project of mnemonical self-emancipation – wherein an actor seeks to enter the global memory order “as a sovereign actor in the first instance in order to improve its international standing” (Malksoo, 2021). Since Russia’s invasion, this project of mnemonic self-emancipation has only accelerated and diversified (Malksoo, 2021).

Memory politics – and more specifically, modes of mnemonic security and governance – have a unique relationship with the law. Through a process of what originally identified as “juridification,” which refers to both “legal regulation of new areas, with conflicts and problems increasingly being framed as legal claims, and penetration of judicial ways of thinking and acting into new fields” (), memory is institutionalized through top-down legal mechanisms that work to consolidate partial, situated historical interpretations into fixed, unalterable and uncontestable truths (). As Nancy Hartsock and other critical epistemologists have argued, all truths are partial, emerging from the contextual, embodied standpoint one occupies; the juridification of historical memory, in this way, often disguises these contingent narratives as universal. Such an understanding of juridification opens the way for Bucholc’s (2022) critical account of commemorative lawmaking, which interrogates how political actors opportunistically assemble and manipulate a group or nation’s collective memory to consolidate power and authority.

Bucholc’s (2022) concept of commemorative lawmaking demonstrates how the process of juridification not only refers to the institutionalization of explicit memory laws but to the embedded, symbolic, and rhetorical dimensions of legal practices. Informed by Claude Levi-Strauss’s concept of ‘bricolage,’ Bucholc (2022) suggests that political actors engaging in commemorative lawmaking should be understood as bricoleurs, that is, as actors who are charged with selectively assembling fragments of collective memory into new legal and narrative configurations that serve present political needs and interests. Legal codes are crafted in pursuit of a coherent and universal truth; they are not, Bucholc highlights, engaged and reached through a process of dialogic collaboration: “A bricoleur does not act in compliance with any preconceived set of rules: she puts pre-existing items – things, signs, symbols, thoughts, ideas, and thinking patterns – together in new ways, putting them to any use as the current need dictates. A bricoleur is, by definition, an opportunist” (Bucholc, 2022). In this way, memory laws work in tandem with commemorative lawmaking, as laws are transformed into “means of memory politics by relating them to a certain memory apart from the normative content of the law and references to memory in the lawmaking process.” Bricolage is only one strategy through which commemorative lawmaking takes place; Bucholc suggests that strategies of “retouching,” which endow a particular person, event, idea, or institution with a confluence of meaning in order to “retouch” the figure or event in an “act of fairness and restoration of historical justice,” and “restylization,” which lends credibility and an “impression of communality” to bricolage and retouch, also support the practices of commemorative lawmaking. Together, these strategies have been increasingly employed by bricoleurs of a populist and ethnonationalist sentiment in both the Polish and Russian contexts; indeed, research in recent years has begun to take note of the intersubjective nature of Ukraine’s, Poland’s, and Russia’s mnemonic governance in the CEE region (Koposov, 2022;).

In Poland, the invocation of memory politics and practices of commemorative governance have been utilized by PiS since the early 2000s. In the case of PiS, such practices have not only served to protect against so-called external influence or manipulation of the EU but have also been effectively mobilized as a tool for internal consolidation of power via the intersubjective cultivation of civic trust. As Kubinska and Luining (2024) highlight, trust in hybrid regimes is incredibly malleable and contingent in the hands of populist state officials, who in many ways re-mould democratic institutions and norms to sustain a partisan, moral narrative that suits its project. This is especially evident, I argue, through the PiS’s transformation of its Constitutional Tribunal (CT) and broader attack on judicial independence.

Rather than treating trust as a shared, institutional responsibility, PiS is similar to other populist parties in its adoption of a political strategy of affective governance – by affective, I am referring to the strategies that target emotion, identity, and moral symbolism among a populace or community and simultaneously mobilized to cultivate a particular, often narrowed form of civic trust that ultimately upholds the moral and political order such a party desires to create. In cultivating this civic trust, PiS constructs a vision of the CT not as a neutral arbiter, but as a guardian of national Polish values. This framing taps into the affective reservoir of Poland’s collective political memory, wherein the CT was historically regarded as a crucial safeguard against Soviet influence and a pillar of Poland’s democratic transition from socialist rule after 1989 (Mishtal, 2015).

At the same time, civic trust is cultivated, distrust is strategically redirected outward, particularly toward supranational institutions like the EU and European Court of Justice. In “early-forming-hybrid regimes,” this intersubjective construction of trust and distrust is meant to capitalize on citizens’ discontent with democracy and channel pre-existing skepticism of rule-of-law institutions (Kabinska and Luining 2024) into a relation that enables the capture of democratic institutions, all while maintaining a façade of democratic legitimacy.

 Interestingly, Kubinska and Luining are also among a growing collective of scholars who have recognized Poland’s 2020 abortion ruling – which effectively rendered abortion illegal in cases of fetal abnormality or life-threatening illness – as the critical point at which constitutional capture of the CT had succeeded. By signalling successful constitutional capture, the Tribunal can now be understood to operate within what Bucholc has described as a “narrowed jurisprudential horizon” – that is, a shrinking of the spaces in which law is interpreted, debated, and trusted as the legitimate sphere of democratic dialogue. According to Bucholc, a nation’s jurisprudential horizon structures the expectations and symbolic limits of what the law is to do and not to do; while a narrowing of the horizon does not necessarily equate a rollback of rights, in the case of Poland, it suggests that constitutionalism has been reoriented away from democracy’s pluralist foundations and towards what I describe as “moralized authoritarianism,” wherein a single moral worldview is privileged and institutionalized through top-down legal and political mechanisms that shape civil society and consequently, subject identities, foreclosing the space for democratic dialogue and pluralist legal reasoning. Under a regime or structure of moralized authoritarianism, memory laws can be understood to operate as disciplinary technologies that attempt to regulate public discourse and historical consciousness (Foucault, 1977). In a Foucauldian sense, they function not only to prohibit or punish, but to produce – authorizing a singular moral “truth” or narrative while otherwise rendering alternative or competing narratives “unintelligible” () within the bounds of legal reason. In doing so, they shape not only what can be said about the past, but also who can be recognized as a legitimate subject of history and politics, aligning individual and collective identities within the state’s moral order.

It is against this legal, political, and mnemonic backdrop that Karol Nawrocki’s 2025 presidential victory ushers in a new phase of uncertainty for Poland’s democratic future and its broader role within the EU and the rules-based international order. While formally running as an independent, Nawrocki’s support and subsequent alignment with PiS – along with his previous leadership role at the Institute of National Remembrance (IPN) – signals, I suggest, a likely continuation, if not intensification, of memory-based governance. Nawrocki’s presidency also arrives at a critical geopolitical juncture: Russia’s full-scale invasion of Ukraine has not only destabilized the broader European security landscape by returning war to Europe, but also exposed the cracks forming in the transatlantic alliance – particularly amid wavering American commitments to Ukraine and . In this context, the narratives Poland chooses to advance through law and public discourse – especially in relation to Ukraine and broader European security – carry heightened significance and worry. Central among these mnemonic tensions is the enduring legacy of the Volyn tragedy, a case of historical memory that continues to strain Polish-Ukrainian relations. Nawrocki’s presidency thus raises further questions about whether Poland will advance efforts towards historical reconciliation or return to a more ethnonationalist mnemonic posture – one that treats history as a moral battleground rather than a space for pluralistic dialogue aimed at reaching intersubjective truths.

The Moral Relationship between Poland, Ukraine, and Russia

Despite the concerted efforts of democratic peace theorists (eg. Bruce Russett; John O’Neal; Michael Doyle), empirical evidence linking war and democracy remains both contested and limited (). Despite this contested relationship, it can nonetheless be argued that war acts as an exogenous shock to a nation, often marking a “turning point” within the broader international security arena (). Keeping in mind that democratic backsliding is not so much a radical departure from democratic norms, but rather the “irregular series of incremental actions resulting in a diminished form of democracy,” it is pertinent to consider how both the fatigue and fog of war may deepen or exacerbate issues of moral reasoning, civic trust, and mnemonic security.
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At the time of writing, Poland currently stands as the second-largest recipient of Ukrainian refugees since Russia’s full-scale invasion began in 2022, second only to Germany. And while an approximate 994,180 Ukrainians currently reside in Poland as the war wages on, it is estimated that over 26 million border crossings have been formally registered from Ukraine to Poland (and 24 million from Poland to Ukraine) since 2022 (). Many refugees to Ukraine for medical treatment, property maintenance, to maintain family ties, or to collect essential paperwork necessary for their stay in Poland. Additionally, sustaining essential cross-border travel has become increasingly difficult for many Ukrainian refugees in Poland: , the number of individuals encountering difficulties after returning from short visits home to Ukraine has risen sharply – nearly tripling over the past year. From losing legal protection and access to social support, to facing increasing uncertainty when attempting to re-enter, the UNHCR highlights Poland as an especially difficult context where these burdens are felt most acutely – underscoring how prolonged displacement is straining not only those forced from their homes, but on the systems and networks meant to sustain them.
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Since 2005, Ukrainians have been officially recognized as a national minority in Poland. Following Russia’s annexation of Crimea in 2014, migration from Ukraine to Poland increased significantly, though most arrivals during this period were labourers and their families seeking improved living and working conditions. By 2021, census data recorded just over 80,000 Ukrainians residing in Poland. When Russia first launched its full-scale invasion of Ukraine in 2022, the Polish public quickly mobilized as they became a primary entry point for those fleeing Russian aggression (). Official public statements were offered quickly by Polish officials; Prime Minister Donald Tusk, in his latter ascension to power, was similarly clear in his support of Ukraine: “I am not ashamed to use these big words: it is here, in Ukraine, .”
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On the ground, the practical burden of refugee assistance and support was largely shouldered by everyday Poles. As documented in After the Solidarity Wave, the Polish state had “no policies, strategies, capacities or resources to meet the rapidly unfolding situation,” leaving volunteers and grassroots networks to fill the void (). confirming the presence of nearly two hundred thousand Russian troops amassing along Ukraine’s borders, the shock expressed by global leaders and institutions underscores a broader failure of foresight and strategic judgment by both Russia and the West: the latter had in the name of mnemonic security, while the former had largely overdetermined its military . In the wake of this aggression, Polish civil society emerged as a de facto hub for displaced Ukrainians, offering critical support including medical services, housing, transportation, childcare, and other vital forms of humanitarian aid.
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This surge of civic solidarity, however, is not without its limits. As the war grinds into its fourth year, so too has a growing sense of collective exhaustion for Poles and Ukrainians alike – a phenomenon that can be understood as the . Combined with increasing economic pressures and policy inaction, this fatigue is at risk of being exploited by ethno-populist nationalists in both states, wherein some political figures ��“whitewash the history of their countries persistently, forming a new type of memory laws that primarily shifts the blame for historical injustice to other states, [while also trying] to promote their own national narratives into the mnemonic space of the EU” (). In this climate, Nawrocki’s presidential win may not only be a product of this growing war fatigue, but also the simultaneous enactment of what can be described as ethnopopulist mnemonic governance. And while his “Poland first, Poles first” rhetoric may appear to echo the familiar tropes of some Western populists, it nonetheless draws from a distinct and historically-charged well of Polish and Ukrainian collective memory – one steeped in entangled pasts, wartime trauma, and contested narratives of gratitude and grievance, of falsity and truth.

The Volyn Tragedy (ie. The Volyn Massacre; the Volhynia Massacre; the Volyn genocide) functions today as one such space of mnemonic contestation and construction – a flashpoint where the politics of memory, security, and national identity collide. Nawrocki is one of several Polish politicians who regard Volyn as a case of ethnic cleansing and clear moral injury against the Polish people; indeed, as : “No such crime can be silenced or omitted. It should not remain without moral judgment and condemnation, which I why we observe the National Day of Remembrance of Victims of Genocide by Ukrainian nationalists against Poles during World War II.”
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In contrast, Ukrainian recollections of the violence of Volyn are marked by fragmentation, ambivalence, and deep entanglements with legacies of imperial and colonial violence. Between 1939 and 1941, following the infamous Molotov-Ribbentrop Pact, Eastern Galicia and Volhynia – territories that had been a part of the Second Polish Republic – were forcibly annexed by the Soviet Union. Initial reflections offered by Volodymyr Kubijovyč[1] suggested that the Red Army was “greeted sometimes with genuine joy” upon entering Poland by Western Ukrainian villagers (Kubijovyč 1963), but revisionist history highlights a broader sentiment of skepticism met their arrival, largely fueled by their own historical experience with imperial and great power violence:
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Ukraine’s modern inhabitants are fiercely attached to their land… However, since the plain has always been the playground of power politics, the Ukrainians have rarely been allowed to control their destiny. In the twentieth century, they were repeatedly suppressed. Their short-lived Republic, which in 1918-20 served as one of the main battlegrounds for Russia’s Reds and Whites, was crushed by the victorious Red Army. They were victims of some of the Continent’s most terrible man-made disasters, and of wholesale genocide. Their casualties during the wars of 1918-2, the collectivization campaign of the 1930s, the terror-famine of 1932-3, and the devastations of the Second World War must have approached 20 million. Some among them, frustrated by their impotence in face of Russians, Poles, and Germans, and unable to reach the source of their oppression, stuck out in desperate violence against their neighbours (Davies 1996).
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The annexation of eastern Galicia and Volhynia was accompanied by a subsequent dissolution of local institutions, widespread arrest and execution of Polish elite and intelligentsia, and the forced deportation of over a million people from the region by the Red Army, including Poles, Jews, and Ukrainians, largely to Siberia and Central Asia. In this way, the Nazi and Soviet occupations of Poland introduced increasingly violent regimes of social engineering, wherein the existing socio-political order and state structure was dismantled, interethnic distrust was sowed, and suppression of Polish and Ukrainian resistance carried out.
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The cumulative disintegration of political and social order in Eastern Galicia and Volhynia – brought on by successive occupations, mass deportations, and competing imperial ambitions – laid the groundwork for the further interethnic violence that followed. From roughly 1943 to 1945, the Organization of Ukrainian Nationalists (OUN) and its armed wing, the Ukrainian Insurgent Army (UPA), carried out a coordinated campaign of ethnic cleansing against the Polish population of Volhynia and Eastern Galicia. Attacks were described as especially brutal, with entire villages razed and civilians – including women, children, and the elderly – killed en masse. It is estimated that between 40,000 to 60,000 Poles were killed in Volhynia alone (Scott, 2009; 6); an additional 20,000 are estimated to have been killed in Eastern Galicia (Motyka, 2006).
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Though the OUN-UPA initially formed to resist both the Nazi and Soviet domination of the WW2 era, their campaign against the Polish population was nonetheless guided by an ethnonationalist vision of an independent Ukraine in the future – one free from perceived foreign interference and occupation. This vision was tied to a deeply held cultural attachment and historical belief that Eastern Galicia and Volhynia were Ukrainian land, of which had been subsequently subjected to policies of ‘Polonization’ under the Second Polish Republic. Thus, many Ukrainian nationalists at the time perceived the interwar (1918-1939) Polish state as a colonial power suppressing Ukrainian ways of life and knowing, further fueling intergroup dynamics of dispossession, grievance, and discord. In this context, territorial reclamation through violent means was not only perceived as strategic, but as a moral and historical righting of wrongs. As the Polish underground responded with retaliatory violence, including through later so-called “reprisal raids,” the region descended into a contained conflict spiral that has left permanent scars on the Polish-Ukrainian consciousness. Such a spiral did not reach its formal end until 1947, following the end of World War II, the Yalta and Potsdam agreements, and Operation Vistula (1947).
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Internal UPA documents and subsequent historical accounts have pointed to an explicit strategy to “remove the Polish element from Ukrainian lands,” a pursuit that, while perceived by some as rectification of colonial subjugation, raises critical questions about how moral reasoning and justification is constructed, understood, and operationalized as it relates to conflict. Traditionally, such justifications have often relied upon what Margaret Urban Walker has termed a “theoretical-juridical model” of moral reasoning – a mode or framework that treats morality as a universally applicable, abstract system of codified principles that can be applied to issues or conflicts of morality as they emerge (Walker 2007). In such a framework, moral knowledge is imagined as separate from the lived realities of social life, accessible without empirical inquiry or mutualistic dialogue, and enforceable through juridical institutions that claim impartiality and moral clarity. As Walker notes, this model “typically universalizes and homogenizes ‘the’ moral point of view or position of ‘the’ moral agent, and traffics in claims of ‘our’ concept of responsibility, sense of justice, institutions, or obligations” (Walker 2007).
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In the cases of Poland and Ukraine, ethnonationalist and populist narratives of mnemonic security in each respective hybrid regime have relied on a theoretical-juridical model of morality that ultimately “shrinks morality down to a kind of purified core of purely moral knowledge” (). This is felt most acutely in continued negotiations surrounding Volyn, where moral claims of historical injustice – be it assignments of responsibility, blame, or victimhood – are approached not in terms of mutual engagement and dialogue, but as fixed positions in a zero-sum moral quest. Yet, in light of renewed geopolitical urgency – marked by Russia’s full-scale invasion and Ukraine’s ascension to the EU – there is a growing imperative for both states to engage in strategic forms of mnemonic rapprochement. Such a shift will require more than the usual practices of diplomacy; it calls for a reorientation away from the familiar theoretical-juridical pursuit of moral closure toward approaches and practices more attuned to the intersubjective and dialogical nature of memory and responsibility.

Conclusion and a Path Forward

The memory of Volyn resists easy moral categorization; as Walker’s critique reminds, however, narratives as it relates to issues of morality and moral conflict are rarely, if ever, neutral. On the contrary, “our” sense of justice and responsibility is always embedded in the institutions, contexts, and power structures from which we arise, speak, and resonate within. Poland and Ukraine’s future navigation of the Volyn tragedy under a new Nawrocki presidency is likely to encounter serious challenges, as it stands to not only be a question of historical (in)justice and truth, but of resisting the overall flattening effects of mnemonic governance,[2] which recasts remembrance as a contest of moral dominance and certainty rather than a shared pursuit of pluralistic dialogue and ethical negotiation.
 
Flattening of mnemonic space works in favour of those wishing to benefit off the fog of war, which in this case, refers not only to the uncertainties and fatigue endured on the frontlines and battlefield, but the dizzying and obscuring effects of prolonged conflict and occupation on mnemonic processes and diplomatic negotiation themselves. Under these conditions, history becomes increasingly difficult to interpret in good faith: complexity risks giving way to urgency, nuance risks being eclipsed by desires for nationalist clarity, and pluralistic moral reckonings are exchanged in favour of singular, homogeneous state narratives. Political actors – may they be Nawrocki, or other foreign revisionist elite from Russia – can exploit such a political climate by engaging in ethnonationalist narratives of mnemonic security based out of the reductive theoretical-juridical model, which works in their favour by suppressing dissenting histories, voices, and foreclosing opportunities for reconciliation. Such an approach also aids in further entrenching division, recasting of victimhood, or absolving responsibility. In doing so, a discursive passing of the buck takes place, one which ultimately benefits aggressors, revisionists, or rising powers.
 
The theoretical-juridical model serves to reinforce mnemonic practices and processes of ethnonationalist governance by attempting to guarantee “uniformity in judgment and action both across cases and across agents, and [give] priority to the sameness and repeatability by regimenting moral consideration into fixed paths” (Walker 2007). In hybrid regimes such as Poland, the window through which these mnemonic practices and processes of governance are adjudicated has narrowed; on the other hand, at the time of this writing, President Zelenskyy’s move to sign a bill that effectively erodes the independence of Ukraine’s National Anti-Corruption Bureau (NABU) and the Specialized Anti-Corruption Prosecutor’s Office (SAPO) stands to construct a similarly reductive horizon as it relates to the jurisprudential and juridical practices within the country’s anti-corruption infrastructure. Such a narrowing, Bucholc reminds us, is a reflection of a state’s retreat from international legal interdependence – a rejection or circumvention of the shared foundations of the rule of law in favour of sovereign self-containment and self-referential legalism. In these cases, jurisprudence becomes a flattened and narrowed space, and when entangled with mnemonic processes and practices of governance (ethnonationalist or otherwise), works to consolidate state narratives that ultimately foreclose the space and opportunities for mutual intelligibility and pluralistic dialogue. And it is precisely here where Walker’s critique of the theoretical-juridical model comes to be especially relevant: by institutionalizing rigid paths of moral judgment and attempting to enforce epistemic (ideological) sameness across agents, it not only obscures the moral complexity of nuanced tragedies like Volyn, but when applied in such social-political and institutional settings, risk becoming bureaucratic and authoritarian (Walker 2007). 
 
In light of Russia’s continued invasion of Ukraine and Ukraine’s wishes to join the EU, I have argued that a strategy of mnemonic rapprochement may need to take place between Poland and Ukraine. By mnemonic rapprochement, I am referring to the formation of a deliberate, dialogic process through which states work to reconcile conflicting narratives of shared and intersecting pasts – not by imposing a moral consensus from the top-down, but through the creation of a space where mutual recognition and intelligibility, differentiated memory, and pluralistic dialogue may take place. Such a process not only resists the flattening impulses of ethnonationalist memory politics but aligns well with what Walker has termed an “expressive-collaborative” framework for morality and moral thinking.
 
According to Walker, an expressive-collaborative framework of moral navigation reframes ethical judgment in the pursuit of justice as something grounded not in abstract moral principles and rules, but in lived, ongoing relationships that are negotiated, in constant flow, and transcend borders (Walker 2007). In this way, such a model captures the socio-political, interpersonal, and intersubjective features of morality that are left obscured by theoretical-juridical approaches. As Walker writes,
 
It permits us to know for what and to whom we will have to account when we have done or failed to do something, and what makes sense as a moral reason or excuse. It equips us to reckon failures and derelictions, to understand what can be repaired and what compensated, to assess the costs of choices in morality’s own currencies of integrity and appropriate trust… In doing so it makes us responsible to ourselves and others for the moral sense our lives make (Walker 2007).
 
Practically speaking, this approach is one that entails attending to relationships of accountability, responsibility, and trust as they are embedded in particular histories and institutions. Rather than codifying universal judgments, this model embraces dialogic processes where responsibilities are distributed, acknowledged, and negotiated across time, space, and agents. It asks critical questions: Who has been wronged? Who must respond? What does repair look like in this given context? In the mnemonic sphere, this may involve commemorations, recognition of differentiated memory, and cooperative truth-telling and truth-seeking processes that resist singular state narratives and instead foster mutual intelligibility. Ultimately, the goal is to work towards a shared future in which the historical past is not only recognized but actively engaged with as a site of mutual reckoning, ethical dialogue, and collective responsibility.
 
This brief has provided a modest overview of Poland’s democratic trajectory following the relatively peaceful collapse of the Soviet Union and broader socialist system. It highlights how in the Polish case, a democratic to-and-fro has taken place, largely between the PO and PiS parties. Under the PiS-led government, ethnonationalist governance has resulted in a narrowing of the juridical and jurisprudential horizon – a phenomenon which has not only contributed to the fallback of human rights and reproductive justice, but pushed the national needle towards moralized authoritarianism, in which a single worldview is privileged and institutionalized through top-down legal and political mechanisms, foreclosing the space for legalistic and democratic dialogue with others.
 
The foreclosing of the jurisprudential and juridical horizon is best understood as the result of a larger process of ethnonationalist and populist mnemonic governance; by leveraging a particularly reductive, top-down view of collective memory, PiS has sought to institutionalize a homogeneous and moralized narrative of history that legitimizes current political authority and control, restricts legal pluralism, and otherwise attempt to exclude those who do not wish to conform to the national script. Ukraine, on the other hand, encounters different but relational challenges of mnemonic governance within its own territory; while it strives to maintain political alliance with Poland and join the EU, it must also balance national politics of memory in such a way that reinforces its ontological security in the face of Russian aggression without alienating key allies like Poland – an increasingly complex task that may require strategic mnemonic rapprochement.
 
I have suggested that the Volyn tragedy stands as one such historic case wherein collaborative and strategic mnemonic rapprochement between Poland and Ukraine may need to take place. However, I have also argued that the dominant framework often used to approach such moments of moral and historical reckoning – what Walker refers to as the theoretical-juridical approach – is ill-suited to the complex context of Polish-Ukrainian dialogue over Volyn. This model, grounded in abstract universalism and codified moral principles and rules, imposes a top-down vision of justice that seeks uniformity and closure. As such, it continues to struggle to accommodate the moral complexity, historical asymmetry, and affective weight that mark the years and events of Volyn for Poles and Ukrainians alike. Rather than aiming to foster understanding, it risks entrenching binary narratives of guilt and innocence, flattening memory into state-based narratives that obscure the plural and relational nature of historical and political experiences – especially during conflict.
 
In contrast, Walker’s expressive-collaborative model of moral reasoning and practices offers a contextually sensitive and dialogically grounded framework. It repositions morality as something lived and negotiated through relationships – wherein responsibility is not fixed in solely legal statuses, but also traced through the histories of trust, betrayal, silence, and repair that mark historic conflicts. Applied to the politics of memory, such a model does not demand a singular historical account but instead remains an open space where differentiated memory and plural perspectives coexist. It encourages practices of attentive listening, recognition, trust-building, and negotiated accountability that can overall support the work of mnemonic rapprochement – especially in a time when regional security and democratic integrity are under attack.

Footnotes

[1] Importantly, Kubijovyč was a documented Nazi sympathizer and collaborator; he headed the Ukrainian Central Committee, a quasi-political organization under the Nazi occupation of Poland. 
[2] I use ‘flattening’ in this context in a manner similar to Anna Carastathis – to speak to the discursive and political reduction of complex, intersecting histories and power relations into a singular narrative that erases contradiction, suppresses interstitial voices, and forecloses the possibility of plural, relational understandings of harm and resistance. For further reading, please see her work Anna Carastathis, “Basements and Intersections,” Hypatia 28, no. 4 (2013): 698-715.

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Russia’s war in Ukraine has fueled political radicalization in Latvia with far-reaching implications for national security. This policy brief examines how radical attitudes and behaviours have evolved in Latvia’s society – particularly online – under the influence of Russian propaganda, disinformation, and cyber operations since Russia’s full-scale invasion of Ukraine began in February 2022.

 Latvia, in response to Russia’s aggression and anxiety regarding its shared border, has embarked on a set of to secure national security and decouple from the Soviet past. These consisted of extensive , humanitarian, and to Ukraine, securing the national information space and shaping historical memory. The Latvian government has taken steps to prohibit and related online sites. and symbols have been removed from public places. While these efforts were done in the name of preserving Latvian sovereignty, they also , many of whom perceived this as an attempt to rewrite history.

Thus, Latvia faces a risk of radicalization among specific segments of its population as a direct and indirect consequence of Russia’s hybrid warfare. Hybrid threats have been systematically used to deepen societal cleavages and foment extremist sentiments. The Russian-speaking community (making up slightly more than one-third of Latvia’s population) is a target of Kremlin propaganda, wherein Latvia is framed as “Russophobic”, thus allowing Russia to spread its narratives among these populations.

This trend threatens Latvia’s internal security and has an added strategic security dimension as a polarized and unstable Latvia, a key NATO member, would benefit Russia and its efforts to undermine the solidarity of the NATO Alliance.

The post Radicalization as a Threat to National Security: Insights from Latvia since Russia’s Full-Scale Invasion of Ukraine in 2022 appeared first on Eastern European and Transatlantic Network.

saw Armenia and Azerbaijan announce a major step towards normalization, raising the prospect of a near-term peace agreement. However, these post-2023 negotiations present Armenia with stark choices: potentially sacrificing national identity, sovereignty, or international justice access. With the pre-2020 status quo no longer viable, Armenia must confront compromises largely dictated by Azerbaijan, raising the crucial question of what will be lost and whether national unity can be maintained.

This white paper analyzes how Armenia’s weak negotiating position, regional isolation, and limited leverage hinder its pursuit of a just and lasting peace. It explores the impact of power imbalances in conflict resolution, the influence of external actors or the lack thereof in post-conflict stabilization, the crucial role of social reconciliation given the absence of international justice, and unresolved human rights issues within the peace process. The paper argues that international justice will likely be sacrificed in this process, potentially deepening generational trauma in Armenia, and risk perpetuating regional violence. Ultimately, the paper concludes that preserving Armenia’s absolute sovereignty is a critical redline for ensuring the nation’s survival.

The Peace Process: How to Ensure a Fair Settlement Facing Asymmetry

Since 1994, multilateral diplomacy—primarily through the —has failed to resolve the core issues of the region’s peace process. Weakened by escalating geopolitical rivalries and the influence of Russian imperialist policies in the former Soviet Union, the Minsk Group and the OSCE’s monitoring mission were unable to prevent outbreaks of violence between Armenia and Azerbaijan. This failure created an opportunity for ��ü���쾱��� to expand its role in the conflict, providing political and military support to Azerbaijan and significantly shifting the balance of power.

Following the 2020 Second Karabakh War, multilateral efforts were largely supplanted by direct external mediation led by Russia, which yielded limited results. Although Moscow brokered a ceasefire and deployed a peacekeeping mission, it proved either unable or unwilling to prevent violations of Armenia’s sovereignty in 2022. The war fundamentally shifted the balance of power in Azerbaijan’s favour, a dynamic further reinforced after the one-day war in 2023.

In September 2023, Azerbaijan launched a new military offensive to retake the breakaway region of Nagorno-Karabakh, mainly populated by ethnic Armenians. Although in violation of the 2020 ceasefire, the operation was designed to take over the region while Russia remained bogged down in Ukraine and mainly uninterested in fulfilling its mandate as peace guarantors of the 2020 accords. After a swift Azerbaijani military victory over Armenian separatist forces in Nagorno-Karabakh, ethnic Armenians fled, fearing for their lives. The scale and swiftness of this ethnic cleansing was reminiscent of what happened in former Yugoslavia in the 1990s.

Following Armenia’s military defeat and the failed ceasefire brokered by Russia, ��ü���쾱���’s growing influence, coupled with Azerbaijan’s military victory, marked the decline of multilateral diplomacy in the South Caucasus. As a result, , sidelining previous mediation efforts and moving away from Russia’s self-interested approach to conflict resolution. 

The negotiation process has been skewed by Azerbaijan’s dominant position in the conflict, a lack of external constraints, and the absence of a mutually hurting stalemate. This concept, defined by Zartmann (1985), describes a situation where neither side believes it can win the war, and further conflict would be unbearably harmful to all involved. Baku’s control of most negotiation leverage has led to relative intransigence in accepting compromise and negotiating in good faith. While Armenia has shown willingness to compromise on some maximalist demands regarding the status of Karabakh and transitional justice, Azerbaijan’s willingness to make concessions remains less apparent.

The burden of peace largely falls on Armenia. The country faces a difficult balancing act: its limits its leverage at the negotiating table, while internal political dynamics constrain its ability to accept a settlement perceived as a national defeat. Moreover, the progress of direct negotiations between Armenia and ��ü���쾱��� is contingent on the results of bilateral discussions between Armenia and Azerbaijan. ��ü���쾱���’s prioritization of its support for Azerbaijan outweighs its need for a bilateral agreement with Armenia.

Rather than repeating the mistakes made after the 2018 revolution—when the government adopted a rigid stance and withdrew from the negotiation process (Grigoryan 2024)—Armenia appears to have adopted a proactive approach. This means defining its core priorities and determining what it is willing to compromise in this short but critical window of opportunity to establish peace with Azerbaijan. However, an important level of uncertainty continues to surround Azerbaijan’s willingness to commit to the peace accord.

In this context, a peace agreement that imposes minimal concessions on Azerbaijan—without external enforcement mechanisms or meaningful diplomatic costs—could severely undermine Armenia’s security, leaving it vulnerable to further coercion. Azerbaijan’s demands for directly challenge Armenia’s sovereignty and could serve as a Trojan horse, increasing Armenia’s vulnerability to Azerbaijan’s maximalist claims. Precedents for granting extraterritorial rights in post-conflict negotiations are extremely rare. The 1995 Dayton Accords included a territorial exchange to create the Goražde corridor, avoiding the need to grant extraterritorial rights. However, this exchange was part of a broader settlement based on territorial control established during the civil war. While Armenia has expressed willingness to honour its commitments under the 2020 ceasefire and has proposed a bilateral agreement on transportation through the Zangezur corridor, Azerbaijan has refused to grant reciprocal access to Nakhchivan. As a result, both sides have agreed to put negotiations over the corridor and its access on hold.

For some , the delay to sign a peace treaty even after Armenia’s formal recognition of Azerbaijan territorial integrity underlines a careful approach seeking to avoid negative consequences of a premature peace treaty as observed with the Dayton and Minsk Accord. However, time does not play in Armenia’s favour; it only worsens Armenia’s bargaining position. While negotiating, Azerbaijan continues to implement a policy seeking to transform the Karabakh region and deconstruct previous as well as targeting its . It seeks to eliminate the option of a return to the status quo ante bellum and de facto prevent the return of refugees in the absence of a de jure option.

Peace Accord and Enforcement: The Imperative of a Reliable Guarantor

Negotiations where one side holds all the leverage often lead to a victor’s peace.  Without an external mediator or balancing force, the dominant party can push for maximalist and recurring demands—a pattern Azerbaijan has followed since September 2023. Azerbaijan’s insistence that Armenia amend its constitution exemplifies this growing pressure.

Even in the context of a prospective peace accord, with no significant international or domestic pressure, Azerbaijan can escalate its demands on Armenia with minimal political repercussions. In asymmetric negotiations, the more dominant party is often incentivized to renege on agreements and push for further concessions (Fearon 1996). In a victor’s peace, where there is no external pressure to curb maximalist demands, one of the few restraining factors is the recognition that excessive demands could backfire in the long run or that a mutually beneficial economic arrangement offers a more sustainable alternative.

More than mediation, this peace process requires external guarantors. Guarantors typically engage in conflict resolution when they have strategic incentives or significant stakes in the outcome. At present, no strong external guarantor is pressuring Azerbaijan to uphold any potential settlement with Armenia. The issue at hand in the South Caucasus is not necessarily security guarantees, as in Ukraine, but rather assurances that any bilateral agreement will be upheld by both parties, preventing negotiated compromises from becoming leverage for further demands.

Relying solely on good faith and trust often leads to disappointment, as seen in many post-Soviet peace processes. As seen in the cases of the Minsk Process and the Accords, the absence of an external guarantor often benefits the stronger belligerent, allowing it to reshape the agreement, refuse to implement it, and escalate its demands while the weaker party bears the consequences.

Escalating demands from Ankara and Baku highlight that without a reliable enforcement mechanism, Armenia risks being in a weaker position if it proceeds with signing an agreement. exemplifies this risk. After the 2020 ceasefire, Azerbaijan imposed restrictions on the only road connecting Armenia to Nagorno-Karabakh, citing security concerns over alleged arms transfers. This move directly violated the Russian-brokered peace agreement and further infringed on the rights of the Armenian minority. The blockade effectively starved the Armenian population, depriving them of essential resources and threatening their survival in Karabakh for several months. It underscores the dangers of asymmetrical power dynamics between Armenia and Azerbaijan in the absence of a credible international guarantor. Russia has failed to enforce the ceasefire or uphold the 2020 agreement, leaving power politics as the primary driver of bilateral negotiations.

Even in a victorious scenario, such as in the First Chechen War, the absence of international support can hinder the consolidation of peace. Despite achieving a decisive military victory against the Russian Federation in 1996 and holding free and fair presidential elections in 1997, Chechnya struggled to implement political reforms and state-building measures due to its international isolation. While Russia reneged on its commitments under the , the international community failed to impose sanctions on Moscow. This lack of external support contributed to the rise of warlordism and laid the groundwork for the Second Chechen War. The (EUMA) is a cautious first step, distancing external actors from purely geopolitical motives, unlike Russia’s role in the 2000s and especially after 2020. However, the recent between the parties suggests a willingness to . Long-lasting peace in protracted ethnic conflicts, such as in Northern Ireland, hinge on legal commitments to renounce violence. Given the geopolitical tensions in the South Caucasus, strong legal commitments may be the only viable path to achieving sustainable peace between Armenia and Azerbaijan. Armenia’s relative regional and international isolation heightens its vulnerability to Azerbaijan’s growing and maximalist demands, and the risk of Baku reneging on a peace treaty despite Armenia’s significant concessions.

Armenia at the Crossroads: Navigating Regional and Global Isolation

Russia’s inaction to protect Armenia in 2020 and its subsequent inability to fulfill its mandate as a peace guarantor has led to Armenia’s decision to sever its security ties with Russia and withdraw from the CSTO, ultimately creating an opportunity for Armenia to rethink its security strategy as a whole. Armenia’s recent pivot to the West places it in a precarious position as it seeks to challenge the victor’s peace imposed by Azerbaijan and its Turkish ally. Although its current isolation is not a permanent state but rather a transitional phase, it has complicated Armenia’s efforts to secure an international guarantor for a peace settlement.

In peace processes, isolation can be used to pressure states into renouncing revanchist demands, engaging in transitional justice, or joining negotiations as observers—such as Serbia in the early 2000s. However, Armenia’s situation is different. Its isolation benefits Azerbaijan, reinforcing its intransigent stance on peace, human rights, and Armenian sovereignty. Moreover, Armenia’s isolation encourages Azerbaijan’s territorial ambitions and reluctance to engage in a transitional justice process.

To mitigate its isolation, Armenia has leveraged its democratization process and pivot toward the EU as a signal of its intention to pursue strategic changes and its urgent need for international support in implementing the peace process. As Prime Minister framed it, peace and normalized relations with ��ü���쾱��� and Azerbaijan are sine qua non conditions for a successful democratization process in Armenia. However, in the broader context of democratic backsliding in the United States, Pashinyan’s strategy of positioning Armenia as the new beacon of democracy in the South Caucasus could backfire in the coming years. He may ultimately face a difficult choice between aligning more closely with the EU or the U.S. in his bid for political backing. While democratic values present themselves as the moral choice, the more pressing survival imperative remains a firm and expedited commitment to a lasting peace settlement.

Armenia has also moved to strengthen its strategic partnerships, signing agreements with France in 2024 and with the United States and the Netherlands in 2025. France, in particular, has expanded its role in the South Caucasus, positioning itself as a key actor in providing Armenia with increased support and . At the same time, Armenia should avoid overestimating the impact of its recent weapons procurement from France and India as a means of altering the current status quo. Weapon systems remain mostly defensive and do not represent a game-changer in terms of military parity with Azerbaijan. Previous miscalculations before the 2020 war have demonstrated the risks of adopting a hardline approach to peace settlements.

Overall, Armenia remains in a precarious position, where a military solution to its predicament is not foreseeable, and limited foreign support hinders its ability to re-establish a balance of power in the negotiation process.

Pathways to Peace: Leveraging Economic and Political Incentives for Win-Win Solutions

With limited external constraints, Baku’s uncompromising approach makes a balanced agreement increasingly difficult. The absence of a win-win peace scenario could become a source of future grievances, fueling deep-seated conflicts, as seen in the cases of Russia’s in Chechnya and in Georgia. Sustainable peace, however, requires both sides to be willing to compromise rather than escalating their demands.

Conflict resolution experiences highlight the critical role of economic and political incentives in fostering peace (Mansfield and Snyder 1995). Achieving historical justice and addressing deep-seated tensions are essential for peace, but sustainable peace also requires that all parties see it as a preferable alternative to continued violence—particularly in cases where local populations have been polarized and mobilized over long periods of time.

Win-win scenarios provide long-term solutions by fostering cooperation between warring factions. For such solutions to be viable, both sides must perceive the peace settlement as politically and economically beneficial for them rather than as a loss of something fundamental to their identity and interests. Shifting negotiations away from emotionally charged issues of identity, justice, and blame could create a more constructive path forward.

Economic cooperation, when framed as a fair and reciprocal partnership rather than a victory imposing dominance over the other, can serve as a foundation for trust-building and de-escalation. Additionally, emphasizing economic imperatives and tangible successes over nationalist narratives can help demobilize hardliners and foster a more pragmatic .

The post-1945 German-French reconciliation, the 1998 Belfast Agreement, and peace settlements in the former Yugoslavia underscore the powerful role of economic incentives in fostering reconciliation. In the latter case, a combination of Serbia’s regional isolation and the European Union’s (EU) integration incentives facilitated the implementation of transitional justice. These factors encouraged warring parties to seek compromises, leading Serbia to rebuild its relationships with Kosovo and Croatia. For instance, the EU’s requirement for full cooperation with the International Criminal Tribunal for the Former Yugoslavia (ICTY) as a condition for accession played a crucial role in advancing the peace process. Each side recognized the necessity of setting aside historical grievances in pursuit of economic opportunities.

A mutually beneficial solution in the South Caucasus remains elusive. Few countries or international institutions currently possess the will to compel Azerbaijan to negotiate in good faith with Armenia. The European energy sector continues to rely on Azeri gas, often turning a blind eye to Baku’s role in circumventing energy sanctions on Russia. Unlike other regional actors, Azerbaijan is not seeking EU integration and instead prioritizes its relationships with ��ü���쾱��� and, more recently, Central Asia. The proposed by Armenia entitled the “Crossroad of Peace,” along with broader discussions on economic and logistical cooperation between Azerbaijan, ��ü���쾱���, Armenia, and Iran, present the most significant opportunity for an economic-driven peace process in the region. In the current bargaining context, Armenia perceives itself as facing significant sacrifices. However, framing the Zangezur corridor within a broader vision of regional economic integration—rather than as a unilateral loss—could help mitigate the perception of total defeat among the Armenian population.

Reframing the negotiation process around regional economic cooperation rather than the loss of Karabakh could help stabilize relations, despite decades of armed conflict. While the current outcome of recent wars is not what Armenia had hoped for, the country must navigate this suboptimal reality and focus on achievable, mutually beneficial goals. Concessions should not always be seen as historical defeats but rather as strategic steps toward a more stable and prosperous future.

The Peace Process and the Erosion of International Law

In March 2025, the two countries agreed to withdraw, dismiss, or settle their legal disputes in international courts, particularly at the International Court of Justice (ICJ). However, the agreement remains silent on alternative mechanisms for addressing international crimes committed over the past forty years of conflict. Nor does it provide a framework for societal reconciliation—a sine qua non for long-term peace.

Addressing international crimes committed by both sides over an extended period presents a significant challenge for peacebuilding and transitional justice. International justice and accountability for war crimes are often among the first concessions states make to secure a peace deal, as seen in Nicaragua, Cambodia, and Colombia. Conflict resolution literature suggests that while such compromises may facilitate agreements, they carry long-term consequences. For instance, blanket amnesties for crimes against humanity have shown limited effectiveness in sustaining lasting peace (Dancy 2018). The absence of transitional justice fosters generational trauma, erodes confidence in international law, and increases the likelihood of future conflicts. Addressing international crimes is therefore crucial to preventing cyclical violence, as demonstrated in Rwanda, Cambodia, and, to a lesser extent, the former Yugoslavia.

The ICJ is also currently reviewing potential war crimes committed during the 2020 War, including the destruction of Armenian cultural heritage as a possible crime against humanity, alongside a countersuit from Azerbaijan. However, Armenia’s international legal has resigned amid the impending agreement with Azerbaijan. In the present case, the ICJ has explicitly stated that it will restrict its inquiry to incidents occurring after , affecting Azerbaijan’s willingness to engage with international justice

Armenia also joined the International Criminal Court (ICC) in 2024, but the tribunal has yet to open an investigation into crimes committed in the recent conflicts. Largely due to a tacit agreement with Azerbaijan, has refrained from referring the 2023 one-day war, the blockade of the Lachin corridor, and the ongoing destruction of its cultural heritage in Nagorno-Karabakh to the ICC.

Since May 2022, Armenia has retroactively accepted the ICC’s jurisdiction, meaning crimes committed in Nagorno-Karabakh after that date could fall under its purview, provided certain legal conditions are met. Drawing a parallel to the procedure initiated regarding crimes against Rohingyas in in 2016 and 2017, the ICC could explore the situation in Nagorno-Karabakh despite the alleged crimes taking place within Azerbaijan’s internationally recognized borders. Even though Azerbaijan is not a party to the Rome Statute, ICC prosecutors could build a case by arguing that certain crimes, such as the deportations resulting in ethnic cleansing, had consequences that occurred within Armenia’s territory.

A growing opposition in Armenia and its diaspora has criticized the Armenian government for considering the withdrawal of its legal proceedings at the ICC and ICJ. Furthermore, in April 2024, an petitioned the ICC prosecutor to investigate potential crimes against humanity and acts of genocide committed in Karabakh. The claim of genocide has also been raised in policy circles, notably by a .

Unless the peace settlement ensures long-term stability and fosters a mutually beneficial partnership, sidelining justice may prove to be a short-term fix that exacerbates generational trauma and reignites tensions between the belligerents. Moreover, while the Armenian government and its negotiators may see the strategic value in compromising on international justice, such a decision risks further alienating the Armenian population—potentially undermining the very peace process it seeks to uphold.

Crimes Against Humanity in Nagorno-Karabakh: The Imperative for Action

The political and social costs of abandoning these cases appear significantly higher than Armenia’s formal recognition of Nagorno-Karabakh as sovereign Azerbaijani territory—a move that aligns with international law and does not impact the right of refugees to return. As the ICJ and other tribunals prepare to deliver historic rulings on the crime of aggression and genocide in three major cases—South Africa v. Israel, Ukraine v. Russian Federation, and The Gambia v. Myanmar (with seven states intervening)—Armenia’s decision to abandon legal proceedings may prove to be a costly choice in the long run. 

Even if Armenia chooses not to pursue the case itself, ICC state parties such as Canada or France have the authority to refer the situation to the ICC prosecutor for investigation, as was done in Ukraine regarding war crimes committed by Russian Armed Forces. Furthermore, the ICC prosecutor can launch a proprio motu investigation if sufficient evidence exists that a crime under the court’s jurisdiction has been committed. Moreover, the Statute of the International Court of Justice permits state parties, under specific conditions, to institute legal proceedings concerning crimes perpetrated in armed conflicts, as demonstrated by in relation to Israel’s conduct in Gaza.

For the moment, the international community has been cautious not to jeopardize the peace process by advocating for judicial accountability regarding crimes committed during the recent conflicts between Armenia and Azerbaijan. This restraint contrasts sharply with the approach taken in the case of Russia’s war against Ukraine. The Armenian government and the international community must be mindful not to sacrifice justice and human rights in pursuit of a temporary peace with Azerbaijan.

The Unclear Path to Social Reconciliation: Navigating the Challenges

The current peace negotiations and the March 2025 preliminary announcement on normalization remain vague on reconciliation and accountability mechanisms. This silence raises concerns about an Azeri-imposed peace process that lacks a formal approach to addressing international crimes or, at the very least, establishing a path forward to confront their impact on both civil societies. Social reconciliation does not necessarily require the establishment of an international tribunal. While the two countries have agreed to abandon legal proceedings, this should not mean abandoning the principle of accountability—especially in the context of a victor’s peace. Creating the conditions for sustainable peace and successful conflict resolution requires addressing generational trauma, myths, and historical distortions that perpetuate cycles of hatred. A genuine peace process should prioritize tackling the root causes of violence rather than merely addressing its symptoms, which result from ongoing negative interactions between the belligerents.

In the context of the South Caucasus peace process, it is essential for each party to adopt an introspective and analytical approach to the international crimes committed since 1988. An unfortunate tendency in peace settlements is often to focus on the most recent crimes and limit the historical period covered by transitional justice or social reconciliation mechanisms (Schabas 2006). However, in the case of Armenia and Azerbaijan, such a narrow approach risks perpetuating a cycle of hatred and grievances. For that reason, alternative approaches to international courts can provide the necessary flexibility, as international courts often face temporal limitations regarding the scope of their investigations, which ultimately feed into the cycle of grievances between parties.

While accountability mechanisms such as international tribunals and truth commissions are not always universally accepted by all parties in a conflict, they play a crucial role in bringing closure to victims and laying the groundwork for a shared historical narrative. The ICTY has been instrumental in addressing crimes committed in Bosnia-Herzegovina, particularly the Srebrenica genocide, by providing both a legal and historical framework for prosecuting atrocities under international law. The recognition of Srebrenica as genocide is now firmly established in international legal jurisprudence. Although political actors in Serbia and Bosnia-Herzegovina continue to contest this legal interpretation, the ICTY’s rulings have significantly shaped the historical narrative that international institutions continue to build upon.

Due to Azerbaijan’s prioritization of a victor’s peace and Armenia’s weak negotiating position, the peace process is ill-equipped to address social reconciliation, especially given the dismissal of cases in international courts. This relative absence of a transitional justice process led by international institutions, accountability mechanisms or mutual consent to address human rights violations remains one of the most significant obstacles to lasting peace. Combined with Azerbaijan’s unreliability as a partner, this lack of foresight regarding reconciliation in the peace accord increases the risk of future armed conflict.

How Unresolved Human Rights Issues Imperil the Peace Process

As the peace process appears to have entered its final stage, many human rights violations remain unaddressed, undermining once again the prospects for a lasting peace accord. For example, the status of and the grim conditions they face in captivity underscore how much remains to be done to achieve reconciliation and foster a cooperative environment based on the standards of international law.

In addition to the status of prisoners of war, many legal questions on the right to return of Armenian refugees, and Armenia’s cultural heritage remain unaddressed. Following its military victory, Azerbaijan’s lack of commitment to respecting fundamental principles of international human rights law in Nagorno-Karabakh casts a doubt on the sustainability of any peace accords.

Whereas the period between 1994 and 2023 was marked by a between self-determination and territorial integrity, enabling each party to invoke international lawt, he right of return represents an inalienable right, and the protection of cultural heritage constitutes a legal obligation for Azerbaijan. The affirming the right of safe return for Armenian refugees from the region “in a safe, unimpeded, and expeditious manner.”

Despite the ICJ’s ruling and the need for both sides to demonstrate a willingness to engage in good faith negotiations, Azerbaijan has effectively erased Armenian existence in Karabakh. The lack of a proactive approach to address the issue of lost properties and compensation further highlights Baku’s unwillingness to seriously consider its obligations under international law. On the contrary, Azerbaijan has introduced strategies to hinder or discourage the return of individuals including the destruction of Armenian cultural heritage.

Although it is not surprising that the right to a safe and sustainable return is not strictly enforced, what is striking is Azerbaijan’s ability to openly violate this right without facing any consequences. Warring parties are typically willing to recognize the right of return in peace settlements, while simultaneously creating conditions that prevent refugees from returning. For instance, the Dayton Accords, which aimed to address the aftermath of ethnic cleansing in and Croatia, established the framework for the right of return. However, the return of Serbs from Krajina and Bosnian Muslims from Eastern Bosnia-Herzegovina never materialized. Similarly, the issue of return for Palestinians following the Nakba highlights the difficulties in addressing the right to return during peace negotiations.

Reconciliation without a genuine process of return is likely to fail, leading to profound resentment as observed in Bosnia-Herzegovina and Kosovo in the 1990s and 2000s. As many Armenians point out, is seen as a sacred part of their homeland and cultural identity. In such an emotionally-charged context, a failure to facilitate return almost guarantees profound generational trauma. Future generations may adopt this trauma as a defining part of their collective identity. Historical narratives and conflict understandings become centered around this trauma, making healing and peacebuilding particularly difficult, as seen in the aftermath of the 1944 Chechen deportation.

Cultural Heritage in Artsakh: An Ongoing Crime

Since its full occupation of Nagorno-Karabakh in 2023, has destroyed entire villages, historical monuments, cemeteries, khachkars, churches, and other religious sites, as well as governmental and administrative buildings. So far, has provided one of the most comprehensive lists of such violations of international law through its interactive map and research report. These violations have continued throughout the negotiation process between the two countries, highlighting the difficulty of trusting Azerbaijan to uphold its commitments in any forthcoming peace settlement. They also underscore Azerbaijan’s disregard for its international obligations toward Armenians in Nagorno-Karabakh.

Although extensive cultural destruction is recognized as a crime against humanity under the Rome Statute, the Court would unfortunately not have jurisdiction on crimes committed in Azerbaijan. However, such crimes could be prosecuted under international jurisdiction as it was done for some crimes against humanity and war crimes committed in Syria.

More broadly, alongside the displacement of the Armenian population in September 2023, their inability to return to Nagorno-Karabakh, and the 10-month blockade of the Lachin Corridor, the destruction of Armenian cultural heritage in the region further reinforces claims of ethnic cleansing—a crime against humanity—committed by Azerbaijani forces. The destruction of Armenian cultural heritage in Azerbaijan could be used to support a legal argument of criminal intent behind the deportation.

While Armenia has the sovereign right to withdraw or refrain from pursuing international legal action against Azerbaijan, other countries are not bound by its decisions. On the contrary, international law may obligate them to explore alternative avenues for prosecuting such crimes. In this context, an international tribunal—or even a hybrid one—could be instrumental in documenting and establishing the historical record of this latest phase of the conflict. Overall, this situation as a whole undermines the implementation of a peace settlement, perpetuating the violation of international human rights law by one of the parties. Azerbaijan’s actions in Nagorno-Karabakh after 2023 cast serious doubt on its reliability as a negotiating partner and its willingness to uphold its obligations after the signing of a peace treaty. This issue underscores the critical importance of legal guarantees, or a third-party state acting as a guarantor, as well as the role of international law in the settlement of the conflict.

Conclusion

This white paper highlights the significant challenges Armenia faces in asymmetrical peace negotiations with Azerbaijan, where Azerbaijan’s dominant position allows it to dictate terms. The paper contends that Armenia is forced to make a painful choice between its sovereignty, identity, security, and the pursuit of international justice. Even if Armenia decides to make considerable sacrifices to achieve a peace agreement, Azerbaijan’s adherence to treaty obligations remains questionable given Armenia’s current regional and international isolation and overall geopolitical vulnerability.

The potential sacrifices of Nagorno-Karabakh and the abandonment of legal proceedings regarding crimes committed after 2020 are major concessions Armenia should only make if Azerbaijan demonstrates a firm commitment to the peace accord. Without international guarantors or significant international pressure, it seems improbable that Azerbaijan will moderate its recurring and expanding demands.

In any case, the current peace process is unlikely to succeed unless it establishes mutually beneficial conditions, including a genuine societal reconciliation process and a win-win economic framework for peace. As long as Azerbaijan interprets the negotiation for the Zangezur corridor through a geopolitical lens, the current process is more likely to be a temporary truce before future conflict rather than a sustainable plan for peace.

Without concrete mechanisms for social reconciliation integrated into the peace process to effectively address deep-seated mistrust and generational trauma, and compounded by the largely political nature of international , the peace process risks further alienating the civilian population on both sides, reinforcing generational traumas, and ultimately fueling a new cycle of violence.

Given the continued obstruction of the Armenian right to return to Karabakh and the ongoing destruction of their historical heritage, it is understandable that the Armenian population will harbor resentment toward their government for what they perceive as sacrifices on deeply emotional issues, and further animosity toward Azerbaijan

Bibliography

Geoff Dancy. “Deals with the Devil? Conflict Amnesties, Civil War, and Sustainable Peace.” International Organization, vol. 72, no. 2, 2018, pp. 387–421.

Arman Grigoryan. Revolutionary Governments, Recklessness, and War: The Case of the Second Karabakh War, Security Studies, vol.33, no.3, 2024 pp. 372-406.

James Fearon, “Commitment Problems and the Spread of Ethnic Conflict,” in David A. Lake and Donald Rothchild, eds., The International Spread of Ethnic Conflict, Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 1996.

Edward D. Mansfield, and Jack Snyder. “Democratization and the Danger of War.” International Security, vol. 20, no. 1, 1995, pp. 5–38.

William A. Schabas. The UN International Criminal Tribunals: The Former Yugoslavia, Rwanda and Sierra Leone. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2006.

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