Armenia, Azerbaijan maintain tentative ceasefire

Yerevan, Armenia: Opera House at center.
RJ Peltz-Steele CC BY-NC-SA 4.0

At the time of this writing, an uneasy but long sought peace is holding in the Armenia-Azerbaijan conflict over the Nagorno-Karabakh region.

Reuters has a good overview of the current situation. The history of the conflict, dating to the Soviet era, defies succinct explication. Suffice to say, hard feelings run deep. It's the kind of conflict that claims the lives of soldiers who were born after it started, the kind of intractable tit for tat that has run so long, no one remembers, as if it would matter, who inflicted the first insult.

Baku, Azerbaijan: me in my happy place.
RJ Peltz-Steele CC BY-NC-SA 4.0

In an offensive last week, Azerbaijan gained control of disputed territory it had possessed on paper but not on the ground. A deal was struck to trade the surrender of separatists for the peaceable integration of ethnic Armenians into Azerbaijan. Still, the peace has been tested by skirmishes and allegations of human rights violations. Armenian and Azerbaijani authorities have traded accusations and threats. Presently, the ceasefire is holding. But ethnic Armenians untrusting of Azerbaijan's pledge or unwilling to be integrated are migrating by the thousands from the disputed region to Armenia.

Armenian flag, near Yerevan
RJ Peltz-Steele CC BY-NC-SA 4.0

I visited both Armenia and Azerbaijan in the spring. I met young veterans on both sides. Some had fared all right with lighter duties. Many had seen hot conflict and bore scars both physical and emotional.

What saddened me most was how much the vets were the same on both sides: good young people whose lives had been upended. They believed in their causes, but could scarcely cite a motivation besides a string of offenses of the other. A few even acknowledged that they saw themselves across the front lines and felt remorse for being thrust into conflict with people their own age, as foreign to the origins of the war as they were. Vets on both sides spoke of their families' fears for their safety and their own fears that if they have children, they will be drafted into the same cycle of war.

Azerbaijani flag, Baku
RJ Peltz-Steele CC BY-NC-SA 4.0

At risk of oversimplifying the conflict with an outsider's lamentation on the futility of it all, how could I not wonder at the opportunity cost in so much energy and so many lives, and at whether or why a political solution cannot be found to end the fear and sacrifice.

I enjoyed my time in both countries immensely. Both countries boast stunning sights, from Armenia's extraordinary Matenadaran, a library of ancient manuscripts in Yerevan (reminding me of my beloved Old Library at Trinity Dublin), and ancient Temple of Garni, to Azerbaijan's Ateshgah Fire Temple and towering Bibi-Heybat Mosque.

RJ Peltz-Steele
CC BY-NC-SA 4.0

In Providence, Rhode Island, this weekend—not meaning to choose sides, but seizing an opportunity—my wife and I went to Armenia Fest RI, where the ex-pat and ethnic Armenian community put on a fabulous celebration of food, music, and culture. The event, on Armenia Street aside the Sts. Vartanantz Armenian Apostolic Church, was well attended despite a pouring rain. Here are some images (RJ Peltz-Steele CC BY-NC-SA 4.0), savory and sweet.

Russians travel in Asia despite, or because of, war

An Aeroflot plane awaits departure in Almaty, Kazakhstan,
earlier this month. EU and U.S. sanctions banned the airline in 2022.
RJ Peltz-Steele CC BY-NC-SA 4.0

A joke, belatedly to honor Ukraine Independence Day, August 24.

This summer, traveling in the Caucasus and Central Asia, I crossed a lot of borders. Sometimes back and across again.

I also met a lot of Russians. Most often, we exchanged pleasantries, as if there were nothing going on in the wider world. I didn't want to ask, and they seemed content not to talk about it.

I did meet a number of Russian men who had fled conscription. One fellow, late 20s I estimate, in a craft-beer bar in Bishkek, the capital of Kyrgyzstan, was especially warm company. We never talked directly about Putin's position on Ukraine. But he made clear that he believed Russia's war adventure is socially and economically disastrous for ordinary Russians at home.

Anyway, my friends and I grew accustomed to the questions asked by immigration officials with limited English.

Usually, the border officer asked,

"Occupation?"

"No," a Russian traveler answered.

"Just visiting."