The long-disputed territory of Nagorno-Karabakh, which lies on the edge of Europe, has a history of violence and displacement. The latest attack on the region, one year ago, forced 100,000 Armenians to leave their home – possibly for good.
As bombs fell near the city she called home on the edge of Europe, Hasmik Arzanyan ran back to her fourth-floor home one last time.
She was used to conflict in the disputed territory of Nagorno-Karabakh, with her father serving in the first war 30 years ago and her husband fighting in the second during the COVID-19 pandemic.
But Azerbaijan’s latest attack on the enclave – which had been ethnically Armenian but is recognised internationally as Azeri land – felt different to Hasmik.
The mother of two had sensed these were her final days in the region’s de facto capital of Stepanakert, and she would soon join 100,000 other Armenians on an arduous escape.
Before that mass exodus, which would signal the end of Nagorno-Karabakh’s 1,700-year Armenian presence, Hasmik left the shelter and braved nearby bombing for a final homemade coffee.
“I just couldn’t stay in the shelter, looking at the despair in people’s faces was enough to drive you crazy,” she said.
“I got home, and I just felt this was it, this was the end. I couldn’t explain why, but I felt it, these were our last days in Stepanakert.
“So when I got back home, I turned the stove on and made myself one last coffee. I just wanted to feel some peace in my home for those two minutes.”
The attack by the much larger Azerbaijani army began on 19 September and lasted 24 hours, forcing the region’s leadership to surrender and agree to dissolve its self-styled republic by January 2024.
It came after a 44-day war launched by Azerbaijan in 2020, which saw Baku regain seven surrounding territories occupied by Armenians since the first war in 1994 as well as a third of the region itself.
Azerbaijan’s September offensive went ahead despite international calls to guarantee the safety of the local population in Nagorno-Karabakh, which Armenians call Artsakh.
And with no real sign of Russian peacekeepers – stationed in the region as part of the second war’s ceasefire agreement – intervening, panic began to spread among the Armenians.
“It’s impossible to explain with words what it was like. The look on people’s faces, the crying, I don’t think I’ll ever be able to forget it,” Hasmik said.
“Everyone was in chaos, children were still in school, parents had lost their minds and didn’t know what to do. Some were crying, some were screaming, one had turned pale and wouldn’t move. There was absolute chaos all around.”
Husband’s final farewell
The Armenians had already endured acute shortages of food, fuel and medicine in a nine-month Azerbaijani blockade cutting off the region’s road connection with Armenia, the Lachin corridor.
That road had been reopened by Azerbaijan shortly before the bombs started falling, and would within days allow Armenians to leave the territory.
