The ten-month blockade of Nagorno-Karabakh had already drained the region of essential supplies, with food and medicines becoming scarce. The situation escalated dramatically on September 19 and 20 when Azerbaijan launched a military offensive. This was not an unexpected event but rather the violent culmination of a prolonged campaign of pressure. Baku’s stated objective was clear: the complete disarmament of Artsakh’s forces and the unconditional surrender of the breakaway republic.
After a decade of failed negotiations, two previous wars, and a Russian-brokered ceasefire in 2020 that was meant to ensure stability, Azerbaijan decided to act decisively. The timing was significant. Russia, the region’s nominal security guarantor, was preoccupied with its war in Ukraine. The Russian peacekeeping contingent, which had been stationed in Nagorno-Karabakh since 2020, helped mediate a ceasefire on September 20. However, the terms of that agreement effectively constituted a surrender. The Artsakh Defence Army consented to disarm, and the de facto independent republic, which had existed for three decades, agreed to dissolve its armed forces. A single day of combat was sufficient to complete what the blockade had begun.
Before any shots were fired, the humanitarian situation was already severe. The blockade, imposed by Azerbaijan since late 2022, had isolated the region’s population of approximately 120,000 people from the outside world. Basic necessities became unaffordable luxuries. The offensive transformed this slow-burning crisis into an acute emergency. Civilians who had endured months of deprivation now faced the threat of artillery fire. Safety became an urgent and unanswerable concern for those on the ground.
Azerbaijan’s action violated the 2020 ceasefire agreement. That deal, signed under Russian mediation, ended the 44-day Second Nagorno-Karabakh War and left Russian peacekeepers to monitor the line of contact. For nearly three years, the arrangement held, but only barely. Skirmishes occurred, the blockade tightened, and diplomatic efforts stalled. Baku perceived an opportunity and seized it.
The underlying dynamics are straightforward. Azerbaijan, bolstered by oil and gas revenues, has developed a modern military and enjoys clear support from Turkey. Armenia, smaller and militarily weaker, lost the 2020 war decisively. Its alliance with Russia has weakened, with Prime Minister Nikol Pashinyan publicly questioning the value of the Collective Security Treaty Organization. When the patron is doubted and the adversary is armed, the outcome becomes predictable.
The ceasefire agreement is in writing, and disarmament is expected to proceed. However, the region remains disputed territory—de jure part of Azerbaijan but predominantly populated by ethnic Armenians. The political status of Artsakh, the core issue that sparked the original war in the 1990s, is not resolved by surrender. It is merely suppressed by force. For the people of Artsakh, the future appears to offer a choice between flight or submission. The blockade demonstrated that staying means enduring a siege, while the offensive showed that resistance invites overwhelming force. The Russian peacekeepers remain, but their role has shifted from guarantor to witness; they mediated the ceasefire but did not prevent the attack. International reaction has been restrained. The conflict follows a recurring pattern: war, ceasefire, stalemate, blockade, and war again. The 2023 offensive broke the pattern only in speed. Azerbaijan achieved in 24 hours what it spent 44 days doing in 2020. The lesson is clear: deterrence failed, diplomacy failed, and the blockade did the work before the artillery finished it.
