Tensions are mounting in Armenia ahead of next year’s parliamentary elections, with the nation’s future hanging in the balance. Despite the excitement surrounding the Trump-brokered Washington Declaration in August, it is unclear whether it can overcome the lingering division that set in after defeat by Azerbaijan in the 44-day war. Recent surveys have shown a slight majority against the proposed TRIPP.

Yesterday marked the fourth anniversary of the untimely passing of Armenian theatrical director turned peace activist Georgi Vanyan. He was 58.

“Welcome to Armenia,” the pilot’s voice came over the tannoy as the Turkish Atlasjet flight touched down in Yerevan some time in 2011. “The temperature outsider is…” A normal announcement on any flight. This one, however, came in Turkish before being repeated in English. In Armenia. That was 14 years ago now. Despite the lack of diplomatic relations between the two countries, the flights have existed for years albeit with some interruptions and later operated by Pegasus and Flyone.

This Saturday marks the fifth anniversary of the Second Karabakh War. To be honest, and personally speaking, it had always seemed the continuation of the first waged between Armenia and Azerbaijan in the early 1990s. After all, in the three decades between both, the conflict had nearly always been described as ‘frozen’ rather than resolved – at least until it wasn’t.

The prospect of peace in the South Caucasus may finally be within reach. Following the high-profile meeting between Armenian Prime Minister Nikol Pashinyan and Azerbaijani President Ilham Aliyev at the White House as facilitated by U.S. President Donald Trump on 8 August, hopes are rising that Yerevan and Baku could soon sign a long-anticipated peace treaty. That breakthrough has already been welcomed internationally, sparking renewed movement on the Armenia–Türkiye track as well. Opening the Armenian-Türkiye border has long been a policy objective for successive governments in Yerevan.

Next year’s parliamentary elections in Armenia will not focus on the economy or other domestic issues, but rather on the country’s place in the surrounding region and relations with its neighbours. Prime Minister Nikol Pashinyan, down but not out following military defeat and political upheaval, has staked his future on reaching what would prove to be a historic peace agreement with Azerbaijan. But with public trust at an all-time low, disillusionment among the electorate could make this the most unpredictable vote since independence was declared in 1991. Armenia will hold parliamentary elections on 7 June 2026, its first regularly scheduled national vote since April 2017. In this analysis for commonspace.eu, Onnik James Krikorian argues that "ten months before the vote, the outcome still remains difficult to predict. Though it still seems most likely that the incumbent will win, a great deal will also be determined during the official campaign period itself, and new developments on the ground. If peace with Azerbaijan is finally within reach, and there are signs that this is the case, it will be difficult for voters to reject stability instead of insecurity and the further risk of war. Ultimately, the 2026 election will determine not just who governs Armenia, but whether the country can finally emerge from decades of conflict and semi-regional isolation, or if it is destined to remain trapped by it." He adds, "that might prove enough to sway even reluctant support for Pashinian at the ballot box. The opposition has still yet to offer any viable alternative – or even one at all."

“You must be glad to be here,” the bartender told my friend, a journalist for a major international media outlet just arrived that evening in Yerevan from Baku via Tbilisi. He raised an eyebrow in response as the bartender slowly poured our drinks. “Why?” he asked, clearly confused. “Because Azerbaijanis are Muslims, they don’t drink, and there are no bars in Baku,” she replied, somehow absolutely convinced that she was correct. The exchange was almost comical, but revealed something deeper. Three decades of conflict had turned former neighbours into strangers. In Tbilisi, where ethnic Armenians and Azerbaijanis live side by side, it would be met with ridicule. Only last October I sat at a table where the vodka flowed as a local Armenian sang in Azerbaijani and ethnic Azerbaijanis expressed their appreciation in Armenian.

It is now 31 years since I first travelled from London to the South Caucasus to report from what was then Nagorno Karabakh. Since then, I’ve covered almost every dimension of the conflict. From the Azerbaijani POWs and civilian hostages I encountered on my first trip to Karabakh in 1994, through the ethnic Armenian refugees from Azerbaijan struggling to rebuild their lives in Armenia that same year and then from 1999, and the lingering danger of landmines and unexploded ordnance that plagued the seven formerly occupied regions of Azerbaijan surrounding Karabakh throughout the 2000s. They still claim lives today.

As diplomatic efforts to resolve the long-running conflict between Armenia and Azerbaijan once again make headlines, the real challenge lies not in high-level meetings or momentary gestures, but in the unfortunate disconnect between the elites and the populations they represent. For almost thirty years, press release after press release declared that talks inched towards peace. Hopes were premature. The sides will next month mark the anniversary of the last war fought five years ago.