Ashiq Qarib, Ethnic Azerbaijani Musician

Ashiq Qarib, Ethnic Azerbaijani Musician

Ashiq Qarib, Algeti, Georgia © Onnik James Krikorian 2013

Ashiq Qarib is a 75-year-old ethnic Azeri bard from Algeti, a village in a mainly Azeri-populated region of Georgia. According to the Sayat Nova Project, Ashiq Garib has become the main mentor and teacher for a new generation of Ashiqs and Saz players. Ethnic Azeri Ashiqs in Georgia, for example, can be considered more melancholic in their choice of subject matters than their counterparts in Azerbaijan proper. Wonderful family.

Ashiq Qarib, Algeti, Georgia © Onnik James Krikorian 2013

Sergo Kamalov, Ethnic Armenian Musician

Sergo Kamalov, Ethnic Armenian Musician

Sergo Kamalov, Tbilisi, Georgia © Onnik James Krikorian 2013

Sergo Kamalov is an 85-year-old ethnic Armenian musician living in Tbilisi, Georgia, who plays tar, kamancha, dhol and other instruments common to Armenian, Azerbaijani, and other musical traditions. During the Soviet era, he was also leader of the Sayat Nova Ensemble for a number of years.

Sergo Kamalov, Tbilisi, Georgia © Onnik James Krikorian 2013

The Bambir, Music Factory, Yerevan

The Bambir, Music Factory, Yerevan

The Bambir, Music Factory, Yerevan, Armenia © Onnik James Krikorian 2013

Talking of gigs, some photos of The Bambir playing for two nights at the Music Factory in Yerevan last February. Arguably Armenia’s best loved rock band, I’ve known them since 2001 and wrote something on them for Hetq Online a few years later.

YEREVAN, Armenia – It’s well past midnight when Narek Barseghyan and Arman Kocharyan, lead guitarist and bassist with the Armenian rock band Bambir, return home. For once, they’ve decided to call it an early night, providing me with the opportunity to interview them over a bottle of vodka diluted down with orange juice.

 

Narek says he feels like drinking screwdrivers tonight rather than the more customary vodka drunk straight.

 

At the very least, it means that it will take a lot longer before speech becomes slurred, and the whole point of the interview is lost. An early Bob Dylan recording is playing in the background as we start to speak about the band in an old apartment building now overshadowed by half a dozen high-rises being built on Yerevan’s controversial northern avenue.

 

The two musicians have come a long was since leaving their native Gyumri in 2000. They’ve always been dynamic performers on stage, of course, but in recent years the band has matured musically. Now performing on an almost weekly basis at Yerevan’s Stop Club, Bambir are attracting a sizeable and almost fanatical following in Armenia’s still largely underground rock scene.

 

Four years ago, short haired and clean cut, the band resembled every mother’s stereotype for their sons. Nowadays, hair is longer, and Bambir look and live like a rock band. Across the table, Narek lights a cigarette before pouring us both another cocktail. I’m here to find out more about the band’s history, and to discover what their future holds in store. I can only hope that it all makes sense in the morning.

If you ever get the chance to catch them live you really should. Here’s a taster from Armenia’s Yerkir Media TV before the rest of the photos.

The Bambir, Music Factory, Yerevan, Armenia © Onnik James Krikorian 2013

Online Communication in Conflict Zones: A Case Study from the South Caucasus

Online Communication in Conflict Zones: A Case Study from the South Caucasus

More than 18 years have passed since a 1994 ceasefire agreement between Armenia and Azerbaijan put the conflict over the disputed territory of Nagorno Karabakh on hold, but a lasting peace remains elusive. The war fought in the early 1990s left over 25,000 dead and forced a million to flee their homes, leaving Armenian-backed forces in control of just over 16 per cent of Azerbaijan. But despite often being referred to as a “frozen conflict,” skirmishes on the Line of Contact (LOC) separating the two sides have claimed over 3,000 lives since the armistice. So concerning is the situation that the International Crisis Group (ICG) last year warned of the risk of a new “accidental war” breaking out.

“An arms race, escalating front-line clashes, vitriolic war rhetoric and a virtual breakdown in peace talks are increasing the chance Armenia and Azerbaijan will go back to war over Nagorno Karabakh,” the ICG report concluded. “To start reversing this dangerous downward trend, the opposing sides should sign a document on basic principles for resolving the conflict peacefully and undertake confidence-building steps to reduce tensions and avert a resumption of fighting. […] Monitoring mechanisms should be strengthened and confidence-building steps implemented to decrease the chance of an accidental war.”

The situation is, perhaps, not uncommon for many conflicts, but what makes the Nagorno Karabakh dispute even more volatile is the almost constant rhetoric of militarism and hatred from both sides. Moreover, two decades after the 1991-4 war broke out, a new generation of Armenians and Azerbaijanis have been raised, unable to remember the time when both lived side by side in peace. The situation has been made even more problematic given that neither side can communicate with the other through traditional means. Armenians cannot visit Azerbaijan and vice versa, while telecommunications from Azerbaijan to Armenia are blocked.

The sum result of this lack of people-to-people contact was highlighted by the results of a 2009 Household Survey by the Caucasus Research Resource Centers (CRRC) which found that 70 per cent of Armenians were against forming friendships with Azerbaijanis. On the other side of the LOC, the situation was even bleaker, with 97 per cent of Azerbaijanis disapproving of friendship with Armenians. In contrast, just 16-17 per cent of Georgians said they were against friendship with Russians, Abkhazians and South Ossetians despite the more recent albeit short-lived August 2008 Russia-Georgia war.

The conflict has also become an inseparable part of internal political rhetoric in both countries with Armenia’s last president, Robert Kocharian, for example, publicly declaring in 2003 that Armenians and Azerbaijanis were “ethnically incompatible” and could never live together again. Meanwhile, his Azerbaijani counterpart, incumbent President Ilham Aliyev, regularly threatens a new war to take back Karabakh by force. Regional analysts fear that such threats are not merely empty words. Fueled by massive oil revenue, the Azerbaijani military is rapidly re-arming itself, with Armenia following suit to a lesser extent, and the August 2008 war between Russia and Georgia over South Ossetia has already served as a wake-up call.

In such a situation, any hope for reconciliation looks bleak, especially when the local media on both sides regularly perpetuates negative stereotypes of the “enemy”, often publishing little more than propaganda and in some cases even misinformation.

“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 2008 report on the local media by CRRC opined, and the situation has not changed in the three years since.

Many place the blame for the situation in both Armenia and Azerbaijan on the lack of political will in both countries to resolve the conflict and make the compromises necessary for a lasting peace, but in a blog post marking International Peace Day, the Senior Caucasus Program Officer for IKV Pax Christi made another very poignant point: “If the current situation is for about 99 percent to blame on the regimes in Armenia and Azerbaijan […] what about the remaining 1 or 2 percent? That is the people themselves, and especially ‘civil society,’ the organized part of society that could (or ought to) function as a counterweight to their own authorities. But they don’t.”

“During the height of the war over Nagorno Karabakh in the 90s, civil society activists played a key role in ending the war,” Guido de Graaf Bierbrauwer continued. “They organized cross-border Peace Caravans, arranged the exchange of Prisoners of War, helped the Red Cross identify Missing Persons. Of course times changed, and – thank god – the region is not in a situation of full war yet. Still the deep question I am struggling with right now […] is […] WHERE IS THE PEACE MOVEMENT IN THE SOUTH CAUCASUS? What’s up with the silence?”

But, although the numbers remain low, there has at least been promising activity in terms of cross-border communication and contact between some Armenians and Azerbaijanis. Interestingly, social networking sites such as Facebook have played an important role. This became particularly noticeable from July 2009, when two video blogging youth activists, Adnan Hajizade and Emin Mili, were detained and imprisoned in Azerbaijan for “hooliganism”, a charge which many international human rights groups and bodies considered politically motivated. As a result, some Armenians and Azerbaijani activists began to make contact via online intermediaries such as this author.

The birth of online activism in the South Caucasus

Following their arrest, Hajizade and Milli’s supporters naturally used social networking sites such as Facebook to campaign for their release. Spreading networks wide in order to disseminate information and updates, there were obviously risks involved, especially as activists could be monitored if privacy was compromised, but the important thing for them was the potential impact that Facebook could have in the campaign to release the two men. And, as international awareness of their plight increased before their unexpected conditional release in November 2010, they were proved right.

Despite the inherent risks, there is no doubt that connecting people is something that Facebook excels at. True, this isn’t always the case, with nationalists from both sides also online, but as Facebook is primarily “social,” spreading hate speech can result in users having their accounts suspended. Although Facebook groups are different and often tend towards politically or racially motivated abuse, personal Facebook pages at least provided a rare space for some Armenian and Azerbaijani activists to communicate and share information on life and the situation in both their countries.

In such a context, even “liking” a photograph or openly wishing someone from the other side a happy birthday proved revolutionary, breaking stereotypes and re-humanizing the “en- emy”. Simply put, after a period of virtual trust building and overcoming stereotypes, a space for dialogue was finally created for some at least. Even on a small scale, such interactions directly challenge the very basis on which isolation from each other is justified by political forces. Given the restrictions on normal telecommunications, Skype can also be considered invaluable here, and sooner or later, networking not only spreads, but also becomes “acceptable” and “routine.”

Nevertheless, some critics argue that since one of the key attributes of Facebook is that it is a social networking site, rather than extending connections, it simply replicates those to be found in the real world. Such concerns are valid, of course, but they overlook the fact that Facebook is a tool with strengths and weaknesses determined by how it is used. Its potential as a medium for cross-border communication should also be evaluated in the context of fairly ethnically homogenous countries with no other possibilities for communication.

Of course, that hasn’t stopped some nationalists from reacting against the establishment of cross-border connections on social network sites.

“The reason why the KGB wants you to join Facebook is because it allows them to, first of all, learn more about you from afar,” Evgeny Morozov, author of The Net Delusion: The Dark Side of Internet Freedom, says, arguing that the Internet is just as important a tool for governments to engage in mass surveillance and political repression and for nationalists to spread extremist propaganda: “They don’t have to […] interrogate you, and obviously you disclose quite a bit. It allows them to identify certain social graphs and social connections between activists.

In Azerbaijan, where activists have been harassed or imprisoned because of their Facebook activity, there have already been some attempts to discredit dissidents because of their communication with Armenians. On 1 March, for example, the online news site Qaynar.Info published the names of prominent opposition and alternative voices in Azerbaijan who had Armenians listed as “friends” on their Facebook pages. Responses to the piece from youth activists in Azerbaijan were furious, viewing the article as a further attempt to discredit social networks and to shame “enemies of the state.”

Remarkably, none of those named deleted their Armenian connections, with the main obstacles to popularizing the use of social media in cross-border connections more practical. Eventually, after a short burst in activity, the number of new connections eventually begins to taper off because those Armenians and Azerbaijanis involved tend to be few in number and also quite similar. They are perhaps already liberal and cosmopolitan, and were anyway inclined towards communication if the possibility existed.

At a 2010 seminar, “Blogs and Bullets: Evaluating the Impact of New Media on Conflict”, at the U.S. Institute of Peace, there was perhaps more criticism of how Facebook sometimes polarizes connections on national, social and political grounds. Ethan Zuckerman, an American technology researcher, terms the phenomena “imaginary cosmopolitanism”, but even so, in the context of Armenia-Azerbaijan relations it has become an incredibly valuable resource – for now, at least. While the Internet can be used to perpetuate conflict, it can also be used to promote dialogue, discussion and debate.

But, while some users on both sides now have access to information and opinions they never had before, there is the need to spread the net wider. Illustrative of this is the fact that while existing Armenian-Azerbaijani connections number in their hundreds, at time of writing there are actually 345,300 Facebook users, or 11.64 per cent of the population, in Armenia and 899,560, or 10.83 per cent, in Azerbaijan, according to Facebook metrics site Socialbakers. Moreover, only a small percentage of users online speak English and most live in the capitals rather than the regions.

It now remains to be seen whether these developments continue and grow, or if those opposed to peace instead attempt to drown out the voices of anyone who suggests anything contrary to the official line.

Online communication

Unfortunately, most NGOs have largely failed to use these new tools to their fullest potential or even at all, leaving it up to individuals and grassroots initiatives to do so instead, but their worth is already clear. Not only do they offer a remarkable opportunity to reach out, but they are also the only way for participants of cross-border projects to remain in contact once they return to their respective countries. They also offer the possibility to reach out to potential participants for cross-border projects well beyond the “usual suspects” and “closed circles” that often define civil society initiatives.

Again, however, it is important to note that the use of such tools in the present environment is not without risk or problems, especially when the situation on the ground can change suddenly and unexpectedly, as was the case at the end of August 2012 with the extradition of Ramil Safarov from Hungary to Azerbaijan, which reportedly led to a rise in nationalist sentiment in Armenia.

Can conflict be resolved on Facebook?

As already mentioned, and despite the potential, online tools such as Facebook have failed to reach most citizens. Another survey conducted by CRRC for USAID, Internews, and the Eurasia Partnership Foundation, found that while 90 per cent of respondents in Armenia relied on television as the main source of news and information, only 7 per cent used the Internet in the same way. Moreover, 79 per cent said they never accessed social networking sites for news and 84 per cent said the same for online media sites. Nevertheless, of those that did use the Internet, 65 per cent used social networking sites.

Even so, 83 per cent of those respondents also said they never used social networking sites to share or discuss political opinions or news items.

Indeed, of those active online, few seek out alternative information or opinions on sensitive matters such as the Karabakh conflict and when they do the tendency is to follow the official line. As an example, one Facebook Question – a feature to create and distribute online polls to Facebook users now being phased out – asking “Who does Nagorno Karabakh belong to?” had only two possible answers to choose from – Armenia or Azerbaijan. Obviously, the question had only one intention – to see which side could attract the most votes even if it changed nothing on the ground. There were no other options, not even “Don’t Know.”

That said, one enterprising Azerbaijani activist currently living in the United States did try another approach by asking what was the most effective solution for resolution of the Nagorno Karabakh conflict. There were more varied options to choose from and even some interesting responses from Facebook users, ranging from the need to force the governing regimes to democratize to creating a regional federation. However, while 52,118 took part in the first more nationalist poll, only 1,153 took part in the second.

It therefore comes as no surprise that any hopes that the Nagorno Karabakh conflict can be resolved online are clearly misplaced; but on the other hand it does demonstrate that social networking and new tools can at least result in some kind of discussion among much smaller groups otherwise deprived of a voice or medium to do so. Certainly, such tools can contribute to the peace and reconciliation process, and for some in Armenia and Azerbaijan they are doing just that, but they need to be combined with other more traditional initiatives and approaches on all levels.

Caucasus Conflict Voices

For now, the use of social media is in its infancy, but this writer’s own experience with using the medium to establish cross-border connections between Armenians and Azerbaijanis has proven extremely positive in the context of the Karabakh conflict. Even so, it first started with physical contacts made in person in Tbilisi in July 2008 and evolved from there to include hundreds of individuals online. Moreover, not only have the main NGOs working on cross-border dialogue projects requested those contacts for their own initiatives, but the main projects involving new and social media have emerged from it.

Online collaborations, such as one involving Azerbaijani journalists to document examples of Armenian-Azerbaijani coexistence in neighbouring Georgia as well as training events for Armenian and Azerbaijani activists and journalists, have followed in third countries, while Georgian NGOs are interested in using Caucasus Conflict Voices, the working name for my initiative, as a model for similar cross-border communication with Abkhazians and South Ossetians. Combining blog posts with open communication and cross-border networking via social media, Caucasus Conflict Voices has focused in particular on providing a platform for alternative voices to be heard.

“We hear far too little of what I call this ‘third narrative’ of the Armenian-Azerbaijani conflict, a narrative of peace,” wrote Black Garden author and the Carnegie Endowment for Peace’s Thomas de Waal about my project. “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. [Caucasus Conflict Voices] has given a voice to these alternative points of view and given a vivid picture of the different and much more positive Armenian-Azerbaijani reality that still exists in ordinary people […].”

Indeed, the experience shows that once trust is established through such online activity, it is possible for to the citizens of both countries to form relationships, and for journalists and activists to check facts, share information, and work together online.

Nevertheless, aside from emerging privacy and personal security concerns with the use of social media worldwide, as well as the pressing need to reach a much larger audience in the Caucasus, it is important to remember that these new tools are just that. “[…] the internet is not magic; it is a tool,” The Economist wrote about Caucasus Conflict Voices, referring to its start happening through a personal meeting in a third country between this writer and Azerbaijani bloggers. “Anyone who wants to use it to bring nations closer together has to show initiative, and be ready to travel physically as well as virtually. As with the telegraph before it—also hailed as a tool of peace—the internet does nothing on its own.”


Onnik James Krikorian is a journalist and photojournalist, and was formerly the Caucasus Regional Editor for Global Voices Online. He has covered the Armenia-Azerbaijan conflict since 1994 and in 2008 pioneered the use of new and social media in cross-border communication and co-operation between Armenians and Azerbaijanis.

This report was published by the Organization for Security and Cooperation in Europe Secretariat following a seminar on the challenges and opportunities of communication and media, including social and new media, in conflict situations held at Trinity College Dublin on 24 October 2012.

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

Offside: Football in Exile — The Armenia-Azerbaijan Conflict Viewed Through Soccer

Offside: Football in Exile — The Armenia-Azerbaijan Conflict Viewed Through Soccer

Merdakan, Azerbaijan © Dirk-Jan Visser 2009

With 2012 having dashed many hopes for peace in the South Caucasus, the conflict between Armenia and Azerbaijan over the disputed territory of Nagorno Karabakh remains one of the most intractable in the region. Over 20,000 people lost their lives in the war waged in the early 1990s and a million were forced to flee their homes. Around 3,000 have been killed in cross-border skirmishes and sniper incidents since a 1994 ceasefire effectively put the larger war on hold, but organizations such as the International Crisis Group (ICG) warn that the danger of an ‘accidental war’ breaking out increases with each passing year.

But while negotiations to resolve the conflict through the OSCE Minsk Group continue to falter, and not least as both Armenia and Azerbaijan prepare for presidential elections in 2013, a new book by Dutch writer Arthur Huizinga and photographer Dirk-Jan Visser hopes to examine the conflict through the prism of football. Offside: Football in Exile tells the story of two football teams, FK Qarabağ Ağdam and FK Karabakh Stepanakert, and was published earlier this year by YdocPublishing/Paradox.

FK Qarabağ Ağdam is an Azerbaijani football club currently based in the capital Baku, yet longing to return to its home ground in Ağdam. During the war with Armenian separatists over Nagorno Karabakh, the Imaret stadium in downtown Ağdam remained packed for home matches. In 1993, Karabakh-Armenian forces occupied and destroyed Ağdam and it has been a ghost town ever since. The club has become the symbol of hope and pride for over half a million Azerbaijani refugees scattered around Azerbaijan. Sponsored by a Turkish-Azerbaijani holding, it has played in the Europa League several times. In 2009, the team enjoyed an unprecedented international run until it was eventually knocked out by FC Twente (The Netherlands).

 

The Armenian football team FK Karabakh Stepanakert from Nagorno Karabakh, meanwhile, is banned from professional football. Due to the lack of international recognition for the breakaway Republic of Nagorno Karabakh, football association FIFA does not recognise teams from the region. As a result, FK Karabakh Stepanakert has been isolated entirely. It has lost all but its local relevance and consequently most of its financial means, a catastrophe for the team that was amongst the strongest in the Azerbaijani zone of Soviet Union football.

Baku, Azerbaijan © Dirk-Jan Visser 2009

Interviewed via email, Huizinga says the idea for the book came after he visited Armenia, Azerbaijan, Georgia, and Nagorno Karabakh with Visser in 2006. In particular, it was Agdam, an Azerbaijani market town outside of Karabakh proper captured by Armenian forces in 1993 and razed to the ground soon after, that caught their attention. Described by Thomas de Waal, author of Black Garden: Armenia and Azerbaijan Through Peace and War, as a ‘mini Hiroshima,’ Agdam still remains off-limits to foreigners visiting Nagorno Karabakh as Huizinga and Visser also discovered.

“During our stay in the de facto state of Nagorno-Karabakh we learned about a rather large city, which supposed to be a ghost city entrapped in the Armenian militarized zone close to the frontline,” Huizinga told me. “This town was named Agdam and used be one of the larger cities in the Azerbaijani Soviet republic. Although we made several requests to our host in Nagorno-Karabakh a visit to the ghost town was impossible. Back home in the Netherlands, I became fascinated with Agdam – of which back then there was hardly any information available, let alone pictures.”

Enschede, The Netherlands © Dirk-Jan Visser 2009

Huizinga says his interest spiked when he discovered that one of Azerbaijan’s best known football teams was also called FK Qarabag Agdam. In early 2009, again accompanied by Visser, he visited the Azerbaijani capital, Baku, and met some of the team’s players. However, media interest was limited until FK Qarabag Agdam qualified for the Europa Leage and was drawn against FC Twente from the Netherlands. “This sheer coincidence helped to bring the subject into the spotlight of the Dutch mainstream media and brought in the interest of publishing companies about writing a book on the club,” he says.

It was then that the idea of Offside: Football in Exile was born, although, jokes Huizinga, the reaction of Visser when asked to work on the project was at first less than enthusiastic.

“You know I HATE football, don’t you?” the photographer responded. Nevertheless, several trips to Armenia, Azerbaijan, and Nagorno Karabakh followed and basis for the book took shape. “When researching the history of FK Qarabag Agdam,” continues Huizinga, “we increasingly learned about old friendships and cooperations between Armenians and Azerbaijanis in all sorts of life in and around Nagorno-Karabakh as well as among the football players of FK Qarabag Agdam and the ethnic Armenian team of FK Karabakh Stepanakert. We figured a mirror imaging of both clubs would be a viable way to present the project.”

Museum for Armenians killed during the Karabakh conflict, Stepanakert, Nagorno Karabakh © Dirk-Jan Visser 2011

Reaction to the book, which spotlights the fate of three Armenian and three Azerbaijani protagonists, has been favorable, although there has been some criticism, and not least with regards to the chronology of events in the Nagorno Karabakh conflict.

“Most critical voices concerned the timeline which was added to the book, mainly intended to provide a framework to an unfamiliar public in the West,” says Huizinga in response. “Needless to say, although we have based our research on numerous sources from the region and in the West, we do not claim to write a definitive history on the conflict. Still, we were pointed from different sides to presumably biased interpretations. We think it’s important to create an awareness of the different interpretations of events on both sides, without judging them.”

The writer also says that Paradox, one of the co-publishers of the book, also plans to put the timeline online alongside a blog where others can share information and personal experiences.

Football practice, Stepanakert, Nagorno Karabakh © Dirk-Jan Visser 2010

In a further attempt to use the book to encourage discussion, dialogue and debate, it is also hoped that photographic exhibitions already held in Europe can be followed up by similar events in the South Caucasus. “Our dream would be to be able to bring the exhibition to Armenia and Azerbaijan, to the lush streets of Yerevan and the impressive promenades of Baku, to the refugee settlements of Guzanli and to Nagorno-Karabakh,” he says.

Having become fully aware of sensitivities towards representations of the region’s history, we hope to engage and indeed spur an ongoing dialogue involving all communities.”

And there is some reason for hope, Huizinga explains, citing one example from the book.

One striking story is the story of Levonid. Levonid is ethnic Armenian but born and raised in Agdam. Although people explained the Armenian community in Agdam never fully integrated into Azerbaijani society, they were part of the fabric of the city for generations. Levonid’s father for instance was a popular hairdresser in town. Levonid himself never experienced any problems and even enjoyed a pretty comfortable life as a popular footballplayer. Most of his close friends were prominent Azerbaijani players of FK Qarabag Agdam, in particular ‘club icons’ Adil Nadirov and Allahverdi Bagirov.

 

In 1977 Levonid moved to FK Karabakh Stepanakert, the football team of the Armenian community in Nagorno-Karabakh. Karabakh Stepanakert at the time played one level higher than FK Qarabag Agdam and “payed it’s state-amateurs” a bit more. As simple as that. At that time, there was no political argument involved in his move, as Levonid explained to us.

 

In his first season with his new team, Karabakh Stepanakert won the Azerbaijani SSR championship in Baku. Levonid referred to that year as the first time he encountered hatred and discrimination towards Armenians in Azerbaijan. Especially when Karabakh Stepanakert came close to clinching the title. Still, at that time, the hatred was channelled as a strong sporting rivalry, not so much in violence. Every former footballplayer we interviewed has lots of stories about playing teams against teams from the other side. Yes, there were a lot of tensions. And yes, it was hardly possible to win an away game inside the other republic. But still, most players told about the rivalry as a beautiful thing, Those were the games you needed to win. If you did, legendary status loomed.

 

As conflict brewed in the mid/late ‘80s, Levonid got caught between two fires. Still, he tried to maintain normal relationships with his friends right until the conflict started. Levonid was still involved with Karabakh Stepanakert as a coach when the war started. Karabakh Stepanakert stopped playing football straight away and withdrew from the Azerbaijani Soviet League in 1990. Most players eventually took up arms to fight. This is an important difference with FK Qarabag Agdam. Although the Azerbaijani players requested to be transferred to one of the local militias, the local commanders refused saying: ‘Football is the only thing left to offer to the battered people of Agdam. Football players don’t fight’.

 

[…]

 

In his own personal way, Levonid is still passionate about his old club, his old friends and his town of birth. He has kept pictures of the grave of his old friend Allahverdi Bagirov on his mobile phone and made sure at times that the grave –close to the ghost city of Agdam is untouched. He even rescued some footballprograms and stuff from the Imaret-stadium shortly after the Armenians occupied the city, keeping them to the day that he would be able to return them to his old friends at the the club.

Dörd Yol-refugee settlement, Azerbaijan © Dirk-Jan Visser 2009

“We were struck by the readiness of Armenians and Azerbaijanis alike to discuss their shared past and feel there’s indeed a common ground for reconciliation on a level of personal relations,” he adds. “Politically though, it’s a different story. Unfortunately, political standpoints and sometimes hate narratives have pervaded official public discourse throughout the region. A black-and-white, all-or-nothing discourse. When asked about their position towards Nagorno Karabakh, Armenians and Azerbaijanis usually refer to the antagonistic public discourse. ”

“That’s why we feel using football as a middle ground has proved so important: it creates a neutral, positive level of communication in which enemies become opponents, war becomes rivalry and life and death is replaced by goals and famous victories,” Huizinga concludes. “At a time when the future seems bright once again for football fans in the South Caucasus and both Armenia as well as Azerbaijan are catching up in Europe, perhaps football can be a starting point for a positive dialogue once again.”

Offside: Football in Exile by Dirk-Jan Visser & Arthur Huizinga is published by Ydoc Publishing and Paradox. Nooit een thuiswedstrijd by Arthur Huizinga is also available in Dutch and examines football and the Nagorno Karabakh conflict.