(Headline photo: The destroyed bridge in Lachin. Seymur Kazimov)

Translator: Gulnara Rahimova

This article was very difficult for me. I am rewriting it for the third time.

The year that has passed since the beginning of the Second Karabakh War seems to be a sufficient time to comprehend the "new configuration" (as the Azerbaijani government likes to say) and your place in it. But this was a year in the face of a pandemic, isolation and the absence of all personal contacts with yesterday's colleagues, at a time when they were needed more than ever.

I will not do political analysis or make forecasts. I will try to sincerely and honestly share my thoughts and doubts in the pre-war, war and post-war periods. "Confession" of the so-called people's diplomat.

I have been boiling in this "cauldron" since 1992. Then, a young graduate of the energy faculty of the University of Oil and Chemistry in Baku, I could not even imagine that one day I would become a humanitarian, change my favorite specialty. But the Karabakh conflict "swallowed" me, like many of my peers. Since November 1988, from the first day of rallies in defense of Karabakh, and later for independence, I have been at Freedom Square, which then bore the name of Lenin.

What attracted me? Probably, first of all, curiosity and thirst for adventure. I, a native of Baku, had never been to Karabakh before, I had Armenian friends, but gradually, listening to speakers and reading the underground press, I myself did not notice how I got involved in this process, which turned out to be irreversible.

The riots in the Armenian quarters of Baku and the events of January 20 became a turning point for me. Then I realized that I was not on my way with the nationalists from the Popular Front. I began to visit the offices of the Social Democratic Party and the Helsinki Citizens' Assembly. It was through their line that I visited Armenia for the first time in July 1994, two months after the signing of the armistice.

It was a meeting of, as they would say now, “youth activists”. We crossed the border in the Kazakh region of Azerbaijan, accompanied by fighters from the local OMON. (They led us past a mined area). We met with Armenian peers, argued, and talked about other topics, for example, about football.

The meeting made a huge impression on me. In addition to romance, I was also fascinated by my work in the information service of the Human Rights Center of Azerbaijan. We seemed to be doing a very useful job, conveying objective information about our refugees to the world media.

After that meeting, I visited Armenia six more times and once Nagorno-Karabakh. Therefore, I probably have the moral right to assess the "peacekeeping" activity around the conflict, more precisely, its crisis.

Then Azerbaijan was the loser. My friends and I had a certain disadvantage complex. This was also evident during joint work with Armenian colleagues. Imagine, an Armenian colleague, with whom we almost fraternized the day before, says: “Shahin-jan, why do you need Karabakh, you are newcomers on this earth, and we have been since the time of Herodotus…. Give in, we will live in friendship. " At first I argued, but somewhere in the early 2000s I began to understand that all this “people's diplomacy” was a pointless waste of time and money. Sometimes it was very difficult for me, but, gritting my teeth, I continued.

Why did I continue? What were the options? I didn't want to cooperate with the authorities or with the oligarchs (as they say, “sell out”). I did not think about emigration. It was possible to return to engineers, but the salaries were scanty, the oil contracts had not yet been earned. In addition, during this time I met and made friends with many wonderful people, with whom it was a pleasure to work.

Yes. I received money for participating in peacekeeping projects, and I traveled abroad for free. I wrote articles, made films, conducted trainings. I think that I have done a useful job, made some contribution to the peacekeeping process. I have never heard a complaint (at least not spoken to my face). I am not writing for an excuse. Everything that I have done for these 30 years has been done according to my conscience. I am, of course, not the Pope of Rome to be the ideal of sinlessness. That is why I am writing this "confession" now.

I have always said and will repeat: I have never considered myself a peacemaker. A journalist, as long as he writes objective, unbiased reports, is more useful than a conventional NGO that says: "Let's live together, if only there is no war."

I had to live another serious test in April 2016, during the “four-day April war”. We, independent Azerbaijani journalists, did not have the opportunity to travel to the front line and cover events right from the spot, neither then nor during last year's war. Therefore, we caught snippets of information from secondary sources, compared, believed what we wanted to believe. It was very difficult to verify the validity.

Facebook has a great feature: "memories". These "memories" remind me of how I called to shoot down the military helicopter of the then President of Armenia Serzh Sargsyan, who was flying in military uniform to the exercises in the occupied Aghdam region of Azerbaijan. I do not regret it. As I called for bombing military facilities in Stepanakert. That is, I did not behave like a journalist, much less like a “peacemaker”.

I'm not alone. My dear Armenian colleague did the same (I will not give his name), in the midst of the war he put up a photo with a weapon in his hands and wrote: "Farewell, journalism." I understand him. (By the way, he returned to journalism again).

Now about understanding and about the crisis.

For 30 years after the transformation of the Karabakh conflict into a full-scale war, normal ties have been established between Azerbaijani and Armenian journalists, NGOs, human rights defenders. We participated in common projects, visited each other, met in Europe and America. The 44-day war cut off most of these ties. The most important thing has disappeared - trust.

I do not hold a grudge against my Armenian colleagues who were offended by some of my comments. And not for justification, but for the desire to be understood, I will give a couple of examples from the past.

“Where are you going, ara? War is none of your business. Sit back and sell your seeds! "

"In the first war we taught the Turks to run, in the second we will teach to swim!" (meaning - across the Caspian Sea).

These words belong to two Armenian generals. Stormy endorsements on social media !!! I read, listened, and endured similar bullying for almost 30 years. I ask our Armenian colleagues to put themselves in my place. Surely among them was some daredevil who spoke out against this fascist nonsense. It’s my fault that I didn’t see it (2-3 marginals living in exile do not count).

Personally, I expected my Armenian colleagues to deny that the "military results of the conflict" could be an argument. Repeatedly asked: "What if the Armenian troops leave at least one region, as a gesture of goodwill?" For my part, I said that, as a citizen of Azerbaijan, I am ready to vote in a referendum for any status of Nagorno-Karabakh, in which the rights of the Armenian majority and the Azerbaijani minority in the region will be equally ensured. Alas, there was no understanding.

And now I put myself in the shoes of my colleagues. I understand their grievances after the fall war of 2020. Resentment that we, some "veterans" of peacekeeping projects, did not give due assessment to the "militaristic statements of our leadership", on the contrary, we rejoiced at every victory, the liberation of another region. Sometimes we even gloated. (I am very sorry for the gloating, even ashamed of some of the comments).

I repeat, I do not hold a grudge against any of my colleagues, I hope, not former ones. Perhaps someone will consider this "condescension", "the magnanimity of the victor," although I do not see a real victory in this war. But that is another topic.

Now the main problem for civil society on both sides is to find their place in future processes. It is unlikely that at this stage such initiatives will be welcomed in Azerbaijan, except for any GONGO-projects under the call of “integration of the Karabakh Armenians”.

It seems to me that most of the generation of "veterans", including myself, are already "waste material", we have used up almost all of our resources. The hope remains for young, unbiased people who do not have a mountain of personal grievances and memories behind them.

What's next? Political uncertainty severely limits the effectiveness of the Armenian-Azerbaijani projects. At least in the old format. But perhaps a reboot will help. New people, new ideas, "fresh stream".