BAKU, Azerbaijan, November 16. Armenian Prime Minister Nikol Pashinyan once again shocked the world with his views on diplomacy and international law. He claimed on X that he had found territorial claims against Armenia in Azerbaijan's constitution. The reason? Azerbaijan declared itself the successor of the Azerbaijan Democratic Republic that existed between 1918 and 1920.
What's interesting is that it was Armenia, back in 1918 and again in the 1990s, that made territorial claims over Nakhchivan and Karabakh, and even launched attacks on Azerbaijan and Georgia, with claims on the Borchali district. Now, any reference to succession in Azerbaijan's constitution is being interpreted by Yerevan as "territorial claims" against Armenia.
Frankly, this is exactly the situation where Armenia’s current leadership urgently needs advice from international law experts. They need a clear explanation of what the concept of succession means in the modern world. For example, in 1991, following the collapse of the Soviet Union, the Russian Federation declared itself the successor to the USSR. This meant it agreed to uphold treaties signed by Moscow, such as those on nuclear disarmament and missile technology control, but did not inherit the USSR’s borders or territories. The Soviet Union’s territory was 20 million square kilometers, while Russia’s is 17 million. This is just one of many examples worldwide.
Now, let’s talk about Armenia's territorial claims against Azerbaijan—actual claims, embedded in Armenia’s constitution.
Let’s take a look at Armenia’s constitution: "The Armenian people, guided by the fundamental principles of Armenian statehood and national goals outlined in the Declaration of Independence of Armenia, having fulfilled the dream of their freedom-loving ancestors to restore sovereign statehood, committed to strengthening and developing it for the sake of freedom, general welfare, and civil harmony for future generations, affirming their dedication to universal human values, adopt the Constitution of the Republic of Armenia."
Also, consider the Declaration of Independence of Armenia: "The Supreme Council of the Armenian SSR, expressing the unified will of the people of Armenia, acknowledging its responsibility for the fate of the Armenian people and the realization of the aspirations of all Armenians, and restoring historical justice, guided by the principles of the Universal Declaration of Human Rights and universally recognized norms of international law, fulfilling the right of nations to self-determination, based on the joint Resolution of the Supreme Council of the Armenian SSR and the National Council of Nagorno-Karabakh of December 1, 1989, 'On the Reunification of the Armenian SSR and Nagorno-Karabakh,' developing the democratic traditions of the independent Republic of Armenia established on May 28, 1918, with the goal of creating a democratic, law-governed society..."
Today, some in Armenia argue that the Declaration of Independence is a "historical document" that can’t be revised or amended and should only be viewed as a historical text.
The problem is that since Armenia’s independence after the collapse of the USSR, from 1991 to 2023, this constitutional provision, declaring part of Azerbaijan’s territory as Armenia’s, was not some "historical tribute"—it was an active, functioning document. It was on this basis that Robert Kocharyan was allowed to become Prime Minister in 1998 and later President. In 2003, this same provision enabled him to secure re-election for a second term. Armenian conscripts served in the occupied Azerbaijani territories, and even Ashot Pashinyan, Nikol Pashinyan’s son, served in the military there. Transfers from Armenia’s budget helped fund the "Nagorno-Karabakh budget." Maps showing the "inclusion" of occupied Azerbaijani territories were even circulated in official publications of the EAEU.
In 2003, Armenia’s Constitutional Court examined whether Robert Kocharyan could legally hold the office of President. According to Armenian law, one needed to have lived in Armenia for 10 years to become president. At that time, Kocharyan had lived in Nagorno-Karabakh, which was occupied by Armenia, and had even held the title of "President" of the self-declared occupation regime there. The Constitutional Court ruled that everything was fine, as the decision of the Supreme Council of the Armenian SSR had "reunified" Karabakh with Armenia, meaning Kocharyan’s residence in Karabakh was considered residency in Armenia.
Fast forward to 2024, the same Constitutional Court of Armenia, while reviewing the regulations for bilateral commissions on border delimitation, ruled that Karabakh is part of Azerbaijan and that the decision on "Miatzum" (reunification) is now "history."
Today, we are expected to simply trust that Armenia will forget about this constitutional provision. It is suggested that the Constitutional Court will resolve the issue, and everything will be fine. But this raises the question: will the Constitutional Court change its mind again? And can we really trust decisions from such a Constitutional Court? Internally, that’s for Armenians to decide. But on the international stage, the situation is different. We can remember how Nikol Pashinyan shifted from the slogan "Karabakh is Armenia, full stop!" to signing documents that recognized Karabakh as part of Azerbaijan. It’s natural for politicians to change their positions; the law doesn’t forbid it. But the Constitutional Court cannot act like a weather vane. Its decisions must be precise and cannot change based on political trends, even if those trends are framed as a "constructive position" or "political will."
There’s no point in mocking how much Nikol Pashinyan has influenced the Constitutional Court—that’s Armenia’s internal issue. However, it is clear that any current or future Armenian government could choose to ignore what’s written in the constitution and reinterpret the reference to the Declaration of Independence and the Supreme Council’s resolution on "Miatzum" not as a historical text, but as an active norm, potentially reigniting conflict, as happened twice in the 20th century.
One could debate why Armenia has become so fixated on territorial claims against its neighbors. Perhaps it’s because it was created in the Caucasus as a tool for foreign policies aimed at territorial expansion, specifically toward the Ottoman Empire. As a result, everything in Armenia—from history to ideology to culture—has been shaped by territorial ambitions.
But given this history, Azerbaijan has every right, using the mildest term, not to simply trust Nikol Pashinyan’s assurances that Armenia will now interpret its constitution differently. Azerbaijan’s position is entirely justified, and any other country in its position would act the same way.
Fuad Akhundov
Political scientist