Alternative and Counter-Narratives in the Karabakh Conflict

Alternative and Counter-Narratives in the Karabakh Conflict

by | Jul 8, 2017 | Armenia, Azerbaijan, Nagorno Karabakh, Radicalisation

 16.7 km south of Lachin © Onnik James Krikorian 2006

 No sooner than I’m back from Yerevan, where I presented my work on alternative and counter narratives in the context of the Nagorno Karabakh conflict and Countering Violent Extremism (CVE) in general, than yet another exchange of fire has left innocent civilians dead on the Line of Contact (LoC) separating Karabakh forces, which include a significant number of conscripts from Armenia, and the Azerbaijani military.

As usual, emotions were high on both sides following the violence and also as usual, nationalist and extremist voices attempted to drown out any voices of reason who instead called for progress in negotiations to end a conflict that has gone on for way too long. Thousands of lives have been lost since a 1994 ceasefire agreement that has been anything but.

Nevertheless, those voices of reason did exist and were more open than before. This is particularly relevant given that most of those voices are from a generation that has had little or no contact with the other side throughout their entire lives and also because anything that departs from the official line in both Armenia and Azerbaijan is considered tantamount to treason.

The situation also reminded me of the importance of alternative and counter narratives, the subject of my presentations at the Local Roots of Global Peace conference organized by the Eurasia Partnership Foundation and Stonehill College given that most reactions to skirmishes on the frontline are often knee jerk or nationalist in nature. Even worse, many on both sides continue to dehumanize the other and end up inadvertently dehumanizing themselves in the process.

Freud once argued that the smaller the difference between two people the larger it was bound to loom in their imagination. He called this effect the narcissism of minor difference. Its corollary must be that enemies need each other to remind themselves of who they really are. A Croat, thus, is someone who is not a Serb. A Serb is someone who is not a Croat. Without hatred of the other, there would be no clearly defined national self to worship and adore.

– Michael Ignatieff, Blood and Belonging

Yet, in neighboring Georgia, few ethnic Armenians and Azeris are adversely influenced by the nationalist rhetoric that has defined identity in both countries. Instead, recognizing more in common with each other than any differences, they tend to form more intercommunal relations with each other than they do with Georgians and and also remind us of how things used to be before the conflict broke out.

Such alternative narratives, or what Thomas de Waal calls a third narrative of peace, are vital given that few in either Armenia or Azerbaijan can remember when coexistence was the norm. Moreover, there appears to be an urgent need to counter the nationalist narratives currently in play in both societies that seeks to block out this more positive historical memory.

Move outside the conflict zone and these hidden signs of compatibility come out into the open. In the territory of Georgia, Armenian and Azeri villagers live side by side. There is trade and even inter-marriage. Armenians and Azerbaijanis often prefer to do business with each other than with Georgians.

 

We hear far too little of what I call this “third narrative” of the Armenian-Azerbaijani conflict, a narrative of peace. It spins the idea that the two peoples are capable of getting along fine, have lived together in the past and, if politicians are able to overcome differences on the Karabakh conflict, can live together in the future. International mediators are too timid to speak this narrative or feel that it is not their business. The media in both countries suppresses it.

 

– Thomas de Waal, Caucasus Conflict Voices

As we’ve discovered in the area of Countering Violent Extremism (CVE), however, countering an extremist narrative is not necessarily productive. It has its place, of course, and must happen, but it always means that those predisposed to the idea of peace are constantly pursuing the nationalist narrative rather than leading the conversation instead.

Both alternative and counter narratives are therefore necessary and it is the former which arguably has more resonance among the masses.

My two presentations, one on ethnic Armenian and Azeri coexistence in Georgia, and the second on alternative and counter narratives in general, including in the area of CVE, are embedded below. Incidentally, the first starts with a photograph of Azerbaijani POWs and civilian hostages that I took while on assignment in Nagorno Karabakh for The Independent newspaper in 1994.

Back then, when people could actually remember that the conflict was often between neighbors, one memory stands out most clearly – that of ethnic Armenian and Azerbaijani kids playing together in the same area where the latter were being held hostage along with their mother. Quite simply, it was impossible to tell them apart and it’s this reality that people should strive to return to.

Until then, children have been among the latest victims of a conflict that holds back not only the development of Armenia and Azerbaijan, but also the entire region. And just as there’s the need for counter narratives in CVE, there’s also the same need in this conflict. Interestingly, the psychology and narratives behind violent extremist rhetoric are not dissimilar to those driving nationalists here.

Tbilisi: A Regional Hub for Alternative Music in the South Caucasus?

Tbilisi: A Regional Hub for Alternative Music in the South Caucasus?

by | Jun 2, 2017 | Armenia, Azerbaijan, Georgia, Music

Young Georgian Lolitaz (Georgia), Tbilisi, Georgia © Onnik James Krikorian 2017

Having moved from the UK to Armenia in 1998 to work for the United Nations Development Programme (UNDP) it was only natural that I started to take an interest in an alternative music scene that, while not really existing, was emerging at the time. From 2001 onwards the situation started to change, and bands such as Gyumri’s The Bambir really grabbed my attention. By the mid-2000s other bands started to emerge and those that had been dormant  during the electricity shortages of the 1990s began to re-surface.

By the mid-2000s, Tbilisi-based bands such as The Young Georgian Lolitaz started to perform at the some of the festivals occasionally staged in Yerevan although audiences in general remained small. Nevertheless, for a while at least, local rock promoters said the Armenian capital boasted more potential venues than in Georgia. There were also some interesting bands materializing in Azerbaijan and so I would naturally cover those too, albeit from afar. Incidentally, the now defunct Unformal particularly showed promise.

In a sense, the alternative music scene in transitional countries offered a window into the lives of those youth forming what could be described as a small but growing progressive segment of society. Interestingly, Azerbaijan in particular offered a dynamic politically charged rap scene with many rappers speaking out about the situation in the country. Shirband, in particular, articulated political messages , a tradition now continued by Jamal Ali albeit in exile from Germany.

Ahmedowsky Trio (Azerbaijan), Tbilisi, Georgia © Onnik James Krikorian 2017

Fast forward to today. Not only am I now based in Tbilisi, but the Georgian alternative music scene has grown significantly and probably boasts more bands and venues than either Yerevan or Baku. There remain problems with local groups finding adequate venues to perform their music in, of course, but the situation is better. More noticeably, however, there have been more bands from Azerbaijan performing here. Last year, for example, saw DiHaj play at Tbilisi’s Backstage 76 and there’s also been DedeBaba and the Ahmedowsky Trio at the same venue alone.

It’s not a lot in the scheme of things, but it is a start and also a glimpse of what could be, The fact that such bands have started to consider Tbilisi worth performing in has highlighted not only its importance as a regional hub, but likely position it as the centre of alternative music in the South Caucasus. Festivals such as the Tbilisi Jam! Fest, and One Caucasus Festival have anyway offered musicians from all three South Caucasus a mutual stage for some years. In the case of the latter, bands from Armenia and Azerbaijan often jam together. 

Given the still unresolved conflict over Nagorno Karabakh, this musical form of communication and cooperation is particularly vital.

Apart from that, however, there hasn’t been many bands from Armenia performing in Georgia. Yes, The Bambir had performed here in the 2000s, but so many more haven’t. Encouragingly, however, in the past six weeks that might also be set to change. Yerevan’s LSD and Vanadzor’s An Gordonach! have performed at Backstage 76, one of the few bars with a decent light and sound system, and I can only hope more will follow. There’s still a long way to go, but there’s hoping for more of the same in the coming weeks, months, and years.

What I’d definitely like to see is not only more alternative bands from Armenia and Azerbaijan performing in Tbilisi, but them sharing the same stage with their Georgian equivalents. 

Goth Night, Tbilisi, Georgia © Onnik James Krikorian 2017

An Gordonach! (Armenia), Tbilisi, Georgia © Onnik James Krikorian 2017

OSCE LEADERS AGAINST INTOLERANCE AND VIOLENT EXTREMISM (LIVE)

OSCE LEADERS AGAINST INTOLERANCE AND VIOLENT EXTREMISM (LIVE)

by | Jun 2, 2017 | Radicalisation, Social Media

LIVE Module 2, The Hague, Netherlands © Onnik James Krikorian 2017

Things have been a bit quiet on this blog for quite a few months and not least because since last December I’ve been on contract as an external consultant for the Organization for Security and Cooperation in Europe (OSCE) Transnational Threats Department / Action against Terrorism Unit (ATU). The project has been to draw up a training program that will eventually be rolled out across the OSCE-wide region to equip youth leaders in member states with the tools and skills necessary to prevent and counter violent extremism. The project touches upon all forms of violent extremism including that by the far right – not just ISIL/Da’esh.

My sessions on media and communications, for example, include alternative and counter narratives, media literacy, and social media outreach, and it’s been a great pleasure to work with an excellent team made up of some very committed individuals from the OSCE, ConnectFutures, Human Security Collective, and Frontline Defenders. Participants for the two modules we’ve already held in Vienna and The Hague have been from the Austria, the Balkans, and Central Asia. We’re on track to finish the whole project, Leaders against Intolerance and Violent Extremism (LIVE)), in July and I’ll update with more details when that happens. Until then, be sure to follow the OSCE’s United CVE initiative at #UnitedCVE.

On Central Asia and Preventing Violent Extremism and Radicalisation that Lead to Terrorism (PVERLT), there’s also my posts from other work for the OSCE in Kyrgyzstan and Tajikistan. Would dearly love to return and the same is true for the Balkans. Unfortunately, didn’t have time to blog about the OSCE meeting in Sarajevo last year. Also see my post on media freedom and responsibilities in the context of counter-terrorism policies.

OSCE LIVE
OSCE LIVE
OSCE LIVE
OSCE LIVE
OSCE LIVE
OSCE LIVE

LIVE Module 2, The Hague, Netherlands © Onnik James Krikorian 2017

 

Unlikely Neighbours: Ethnic Armenian-Azeri Coexistence in Georgia

Unlikely Neighbours: Ethnic Armenian-Azeri Coexistence in Georgia

by | Jun 2, 2017 | Armenia, Azerbaijan, Georgia, Minorities, Nagorno Karabakh

Ethnic Armenian and Azeri children gather for a six-year-old’s birthday in Tsopi. On the table rest different types of food such as dolma, meat wrapped in grape leaves or stuffed into other vegetables. While many Armenians and Azerbaijanis engage in bitter debates about what food or music belongs to each nation, the children simply enjoy them. “Dolma yeyənindi, Sarı Gəlin oxuyanındı,” wrote Azerbaijan writer Ağarəhim (Dolma belongs to those that eat it. Sari Gelin (a song) to those that sing it.)

With peace still looking elusive, and all signs pointing to the possibility of renewed fighting between Armenia and Azerbaijan over the disputed territory of Nagorno Karabakh, Stratfor recently publishedmy photo story on ethnic Armenian-Azeri coexistence in Georgia. Offering a much needed alternative narrative on relations between the two ethnic groups, it’s a topic I’ve covered continuously since 2009 for BBC Azeri, RFE/RL, and others.

The photo story with accompany text can be found at here.

Unlikely Neighbours: Ethnic Armenian-Azerbaijani Coexistence in Georgia

Unlikely Neighbours: Ethnic Armenian-Azerbaijani Coexistence in Georgia

by | May 10, 2017 | Armenia, Azerbaijan, Georgia, Minorities, Nagorno Karabakh

Ethnic Armenians in Tsopi, Georgia, one of a few villages co-inhabited with ethnic Azerbaijanis  @ Onnik James Krikorian

First published by Stratfor. as part of my work on ethnic Armenian-Azerbaijani coexistence in Georgia also published by the BBC and Radio Free Europe / Radio Liberty among others.

It’s been a year since clashes between Armenian and Azerbaijani forces left around 200 dead in what has now become known as the “Four-Day War.” Despite the carnage, and still locked in a bitter dispute over the territory of Nagorno-Karabakh, peace between the warring sides is as elusive as ever. Armenia and Azerbaijan fought a bitter war in the early 1990s that left over 25,000 dead and forced a million more to flee their homes. Backed by the military from Armenia proper, the ethnic Armenian majority in the then-autonomous oblast situated within the borders of Soviet Azerbaijan emerged victorious.

By the time a May 1994 cease-fire put the fighting on hold, Armenian forces gained control not only of Nagorno-Karabakh, but also of most of the seven regions of Azerbaijan surrounding it. With over 3,000 additional lives lost since, Nagorno-Karabakh is anything but a “frozen conflict.”

Of as much concern is that new generations of Armenians and Azerbaijanis have been brought up isolated from each other. Armenians cannot visit Azerbaijan, and Azerbaijanis cannot visit Armenia. The effect of this arrangement on the psychology of both nations has been devastating. In a 2011 household survey held in Armenia and Azerbaijan by The Caucasus Research Resource Centres (CRRC), for example, 70 percent of Armenian respondents said they did not approve of friendship with Azerbaijanis. In Azerbaijan, a staggering 97 percent said they did not approve of friendship with Armenians.

But while many claim that this is only natural as long as the conflict remains unresolved, the example of neighboring Georgia proves otherwise. In the same survey, only 16 and 17 percent of Georgians said they disapproved of friendship with Abkhazians and Ossetians, respectively, while 18 percent were against friendship with Russians.

The narratives of the Nagorno-Karabakh conflict, and how local media outlets in both countries perpetuate them, arguably play an important role in forming the image of the enemy in the minds of most citizens. “Without more accurate and unbiased information… free of negative rhetoric and stereotypes, Armenians and Azerbaijanis will continue to see themselves as enemies without any common ground,” a CRRC report on Armenian and Azerbaijani media coverage published in 2008 concluded.

Indeed, perhaps the most dominant narrative of the Nagorno-Karabakh conflict has been that of “ethnic incompatibility” between the two groups. This was most notably articulated by former Armenian President Robert Kocharian on a visit to Moscow in 2003. His comment was strongly condemned by the Council of Europe. Speaking in 2012, Azerbaijani President Ilham Aliyev likewise declared that “Armenians of the world” were his country’s main enemy. In such a hostile environment, it’s no wonder that many Armenians and Azerbaijanis are resigned to never living together in peace again.

But an alternative narrative can easily be found in nearby Georgia in the form of co-inhabited villages such as Tsopi. Situated in the Marneuli district of Kvemo Kartli, a region bordering Armenia that boasts the largest number of ethnic Azeris in the country, villages are impoverished but offer a much-needed glimmer of hope.

“Move outside the conflict zone and hidden signs of compatibility come out into the open,” Thomas de Waal, author of Black Garden: Armenia and Azerbaijan Through Peace and War, said of my work in such villages. “We hear far too little of what I call this third narrative of the Armenian-Azerbaijani conflict, a narrative of peace.”

An elderly ethnic Armenian woman herds pigs in Tsopi. Because ethnic Armenians and Azeris usually speak each other’s language in co-inhabited villages and towns, it is impossible to tell them apart. As Christians, however, Armenians raise pigs among their livestock while Azeris do not.

An ethnic Armenian pupil sits in a dilapidated classroom in Tsopi, Georgia. Despite promises from the Georgian government, the school is in disrepair. Holes in the floor and ceiling widen with each passing year. Though both ethnic Armenian and Azeri students attend the same school, they receive their education in different classrooms and in their mother tongues.

Tsopi, for instance, is populated by over 200 ethnic Armenian and Azeri families, and residents say the latter form the majority at around 80 percent. The two groups not only live side by side in peace, but also speak each other’s language. In fact, Georgian is seldom spoken in the village; children only learn it at school.

Though classes are segregated along ethnic lines, ethnic Armenian and Azeri students play together or help one another with homework. Because the kindergarten in Tsopi closed, most do not understand Georgian until they attend school and instead speak Armenian and Azerbaijani.

“We live among Armenians very well,” an ethnic Azeri mother once told me at the birthday party of her six-year-old son. The children of her ethnic Armenian neighbors were present as well. “Of course we celebrate birthdays together,” she continued, confused that anyone would even raise the issue of intercommunal relations.

Ethnic Armenian and Azeri children gather for a six-year-old’s birthday in Tsopi. On the table rest different types of food such as dolma, meat wrapped in grape leaves or stuffed into other vegetables. While many Armenians and Azerbaijanis engage in bitter debates about what food or music belongs to each, the children simply enjoy them. “Dolma yeyənindi, Sarı Gəlin oxuyanındı,” wrote Azerbaijan writer Ağarəhim (Dolma belongs to those that eat it. Sari Gelin (a song) to those that sing it.)

Her view was echoed by Metaksya Ovsepyan, an ethnic Armenian teacher at Tsopi’s school. Fluent in Azerbaijani, Ovsepyan is also responsible for teaching ethnic Azeri first-graders the Georgian language. The Armenian and Azerbaijani governments supply the school with textbooks, but any nationalist narratives in them are ignored.

Metaksya Ovsepyan, an ethnic Armenian teacher, instructs ethnic Azeri first-graders in the Georgian language. In a rare example of cooperation, albeit coincidentally, textbooks are supplied by the Armenian and Azerbaijani governments. Though nationalist rhetoric can sometimes to be found in such books, the ethnic Armenian and Azeri residents of Tsopi instead choose to ignore it.

“I don’t care if someone is Azerbaijani, Turkish, Russian or Georgian,” she says. “I couldn’t live without Azerbaijanis and they couldn’t live without us, Armenians. There are no problems between us and I have many friends in Azerbaijan. I would like to visit them, but I can’t because of my (Armenian) surname.”

An elderly ethnic Azeri man and his best friend, an ethnic Armenian woman, have known each other for decades. Despite being Armenian, the woman’s daughter, Metaksya, works as a teacher at Tsopi’s school and is fluent in Azerbaijani.

But not everything is perfect in Tsopi.

Socio-economic conditions there, as in many other villages, are dire and the school is in disrepair. Despite tens of millions of international donor dollars spent on attempts to bridge the divide between Armenians and Azerbaijanis, this living, breathing example of coexistence hasn’t seen a single cent.

Villages like Tsopi are a rare example of ethnic Armenian-Azeri co-inhabitation, but poverty there is high. What should be a positive narrative of coexistence is instead one not uncommon to many villages in Georgia, Armenia and Azerbaijan. Though huge amounts of international aid are spent to promote the peaceful resolution of the Nagorno-Karabakh conflict, this example of living together in peace has been forgotten.

“In this village we need work,” says one ethnic Azeri, Afandi Sharifov. “People should be able to take care of their families so that they do not leave. There is a lack of water (for irrigation) and you’ve seen the how terrible the roads are. There is no gas and wood is expensive. Things would be better if some organization could help us.”

The situation is the same in neighboring Khojorni, where the demographics are reversed. Ethnic Armenians form 80 percent of the population while ethnic Azeris make up the rest. A handful of partly Greek residents also live in Tsopi and Khojorni, but their numbers are few.

Preparations are underway for an ethnic Azeri wedding in Tsopi. While most of the guests are ethnic Azeris from the village and Azerbaijan, ethnic Armenians are also among the guests. The future, however, is not certain for newly married couples from Tsopi and Khojorni. In all likelihood, they will either move to other villages, towns and cities in Georgia or the husbands will seek work in Armenia, Azerbaijan, Turkey or Russia.

“Why should we be enemies at the whim of some politician?” Nazkhanim, an elderly ethnic Azeri woman, told me on a previous visit to Khojorni. “You cannot separate a nail from your finger without bleeding and causing yourself severe pain. We cannot do without the other. This is how we were and how we will always be.”

Revisiting Nazkhanim a week or so ago, Nargiz, another elderly ethnic Azeri, added her own thoughts on the question of Armenian-Azeri coexistence. “We lived as brother and sister and we continue to do so now. Thanks to God, we are good. We are living as one person.”

The Stratfor photostory can be viewed here.

CONFLICT VOICES e-BOOKS

 

Conflict Voices – December 2010

Short essays on the Nagorno Karabakh Conflict
Download in English | Russian

 

Conflict Voices – May 2011

Short essays on the Nagorno Karabakh Conflict
Download in English | Russian