Nagorno-Karabakh: The refugees ‘abandoned’ by the world in Europe’s ‘forgotten’ conflict

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.

Hasmik Arzanyan (left) fled Nagorno-Karabakh while her husband Armen (right) stayed behind

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.

Hasmik packed just a few clothes and took food for her two children – Arman, 11, and eight-year-old Vartan – for the drive to Armenia, while her husband stayed, promising to send the rest of their belongings later.

She had begged Armen to leave with her and their children, but he wanted to be the last Armenian to leave the region and felt the need to help others preparing to flee. She wouldn’t see him again.

During a desperate search for fuel, some Armenians were queuing at a storage facility near Stepanakert on 25 September when a huge explosion killed more than 200 people.

“When we arrived I couldn’t speak, we didn’t have water to drink and whatever we had we rationed for our children,” Hasmik said at the end of a 32-hour drive that would normally last a fraction of that time.

“We found out there had been an explosion, they were saying there was an explosion and my husband had been seen there.”

‘There was no time to be weak’

Hasmik said she had just received messages from Armen – with no signal during the journey to Armenia – asking if they were safe and where they got to.

“I called him and called him, but there was no answer,” she said. “I didn’t believe that he was there, I said that’s not possible.”

It would have been their tenth wedding anniversary this October.

“I felt so empty without him, but there was no time to be weak,” she wrote in a journal, which she shared with Sky News, adding her children had become her strength.

During the 44-day war, Hasmik set out to bring “some happiness” to the region’s other youngsters and created a unique sand-drawing wooden tablet, which could read out well-known children’s stories for users to then visualise on the screen.

It became popular enough for regular classes and despite her original creations remaining lost in Karabakh, she has managed to revive sessions in Armenia, which she runs around her full-time job in human resources.

While all her belongings remain lost in her old home, she said this one invention was something she could bring to Armenia.

Source: https://news.sky.com/story/nagorno-karabakh-the-refugees-abandoned-by-the-world-in-europes-forgotten-conflict-13216137

Exit mobile version