Armenia’s initiative to end hostilities with Azerbaijan is more than a peace offer—it’s a defining test for the region’s future.

In an extensive article published by the Greek daily To Vima, Armenia’s peace agenda has been analyzed in depth, particularly in light of Prime Minister Nikol Pashinyan’s proposal to end hostilities with Azerbaijan through a historic agreement. According to author Tigran Ghalumyan, while the international response was polite but cautious, the proposal is far more significant than a simple bilateral treaty.

"Armenia’s peace initiative is a litmus test for the future of diplomacy, democracy, and stability in the South Caucasus—a region often overlooked but strategically vital to Europe," writes Ghalumyan.

He notes that by making this offer, Armenia is taking a considerable risk. He emphasizes that diplomacy can achieve what war could not, potentially replacing historical grievances—including those rooted in the Nagorno-Karabakh conflict—with a future of coexistence. “This is not naïve idealism; it is a strategic necessity,” he underlines.

Ghalumyan believes Armenia is placing a bold bet with this offer. He reiterates that diplomacy might succeed where warfare failed and that deep wounds, such as those from the Karabakh conflict, could eventually give way to peaceful coexistence.

He reminds readers that Armenia and Azerbaijan have been in conflict for over three decades, centered around the ethnically Armenian region of Nagorno-Karabakh.

“The war in the early 1990s led to Armenian control over the region and surrounding areas. However, the 2020 war—shorter, more brutal, and technologically advanced—saw Azerbaijan, with Turkish support, reclaim most of that territory. The Russia-brokered ceasefire was fragile from the outset.

Since then, seismic shifts have altered the regional landscape. Russia, once the main security guarantor, has turned inward due to the war in Ukraine. Meanwhile, Turkey and Iran have expanded their influence in the Caucasus. Europe, concerned with energy and migration, has only recently reengaged diplomatically.

Against this backdrop, the Armenian prime minister’s peace offer stands out in tone and substance. At its core is Armenia’s readiness for mutual recognition of sovereignty and territorial integrity as a foundation for peaceful coexistence. This implies painful compromises on both sides and reflects Armenia’s commitment to a future grounded in international law, dialogue, and regional stability,” the article reads.

The author also addresses the domestic risks of the peace agenda. He notes that Prime Minister Pashinyan faces harsh criticism from political opponents and parts of the public who view the plan as betrayal. The national trauma—especially from the 2020 war and the 2023 ethnic cleansing of Armenians from Nagorno-Karabakh—remains deeply rooted.

“Regionally, there are fears that a militarily emboldened Azerbaijan, backed by Ankara, might view Armenian concessions not as goodwill but weakness, and push for more. The push for a so-called 'Zangezur corridor' through Armenia’s southern Syunik province raises sovereignty concerns,” he writes, adding that despite the risks, the potential benefits could be transformative.

A lasting peace agreement would allow Armenia to reopen trade routes, attract foreign investment, and accelerate democratic development. It would also position the South Caucasus as a reliable East-West corridor—a key priority under the EU’s Global Gateway strategy, which seeks alternatives to Chinese and Russian routes.

Addressing Europe’s role, the author stresses it cannot remain a passive observer.

“The South Caucasus may seem distant, but it is a frontline in the struggle between democratic resilience and authoritarian expansion. Armenia stands out among its neighbors by embracing democratic reforms, transparency, and civil society, even while facing existential threats.

A peace deal would not only stabilize borders but also signal that diplomacy, even in complex ethnic disputes, is still viable. The EU’s mediation role has been commendable but limited. Now Brussels must deepen its involvement—not only via dialogue platforms but with real support, including border monitoring missions, investment packages, and civil society partnerships.

Moreover, Europe must firmly defend Armenian sovereignty. Calls for corridors bypassing Armenian control must face strong diplomatic resistance. Peace must be built on mutual recognition and equal dignity—not imposed,” he asserts.

Ghalumyan concludes that this moment is unique—not just geopolitically, but generationally. Across Armenia, the younger generation rejects endless wars and ideological isolation.

“They want peace not merely as an absence of conflict, but as a foundation for opportunity—jobs, mobility, innovation, and global connection. This shift isn’t unique to Armenia. From Tbilisi to Kyiv, Yerevan to Chișinău, young people reject the fatalism of the past. They demand bold, responsible leadership toward integration, not disintegration. The peace offer, however imperfect, is one such step,” he writes.

In conclusion, the author asserts that Pashinyan’s peace proposal is not merely a political maneuver. Rather, it is a test of will—for Armenia, Azerbaijan, and the international community.

"Will we choose a future built on cooperation and dialogue—or revert to cycles of war and vengeance? History is watching, and so are the region’s youth, whose lives depend on the choices made today,” he ends.