On September 1, the people of Azerbaijan were subjected to yet another so-called parliamentary election, marking the first in the post-Karabakh era. As with every election in Azerbaijan, this too was nothing more than a staged performance, a mockery of democracy meticulously orchestrated by the regime. According to political analyst Zardust Alizade, this election represents Aliyev's final attempt to consolidate his grip on power by purging the remnants of the old guard, specifically those appointed by Ali Hasanov, from the parliament of 2020.
The 2020 elections, held before the war, ignited widespread public protests and discontent, sparking a new wave of involvement from alternative opposition forces. In hindsight, it's painfully clear how the situation, already dire, has since deteriorated into an even more grotesque version of its former self. Unlike the 2020 elections, which saw a surge of independent and young candidates, this time there were only a handful, with Vafa Nagi standing out as a rare example of resilience and determination. Her steadfastness amidst overwhelming odds has helped to expose the myths surrounding this election and beyond with greater clarity.
Much has changed since 2020, with the war and subsequent victory being the central catalyst for this transformation. This triumph has afforded Aliyev an unprecedented level of popular support, insulating him from any meaningful opposition. The "absolute consensus" that now prevails renders even the slightest dissent an existential threat to Aliyev's regime, which may explain the draconian centralization efforts in the newly formed parliament.
In the aftermath of the war and in 2020, many clung to the belief that resolving the Karabakh conflict would usher in an era of prosperity for Azerbaijan. This naive optimism, coupled with the war’s grievances, led to widespread support for the war, with the population uniting around the idea of statehood. However, a small anti-war faction, which resisted this consensus, was vilified for allegedly disrupting national unity and stability. Even those who considered themselves dissidents or independents, who were similarly stigmatized by the regime, shamefully joined this slander.
Now, four years later, it’s evident that the return of Karabakh has brought neither the promised prosperity nor the anticipated democracy to Azerbaijan. On the contrary, the regime has grown more paranoid, silencing dissent with increasing brutality. Grandmothers in Soyudlu are beaten, political dissidents are jailed, and poverty and insecurity persist. What is obvious to us now and back in 2020 was obscured for many by the intoxicating euphoria of victory in Karabakh. If there remains any doubt, we offer the following myth busters to clear the fog.
Myth 1: Our only problem is Karabakh
It now more than ever seems more apparent that, Karabakh is/was not our only problem. While the conflict undeniably inflicted deep material and emotional wounds on the population—traumatizing the nation and leaving those directly affected, particularly internally displaced persons (IDPs) and refugees, with little more than a longing to return—the issues extend far beyond this single narrative. The "grand return" promised after the 2020 conflict is gradually being implemented, and the ontological insecurities and crises of belonging that plagued these populations seem to be nearing resolution. However, this is just one facet of the broader societal grievances that have been overshadowed.
By elevating the grievances of those affected by the conflict to the status of a collective national trauma, the regime has manipulated the population into believing that the Karabakh problem was the root of all their suffering. Yet today, it becomes increasingly clear that this instrumentalized grievance is merely a smokescreen, masking deeper, systemic issues. The uncured cells of this conflict continue to metastasize, reemerging as extreme affective nationalism—a cancer that poisons the body politic.
The regime, acutely aware of this dynamic, deliberately maintains Armenians as the perpetual object of collective hatred. This tactic serves a dual purpose: as long as Armenians remain the target of this animosity, the Aliyev regime can deflect attention from the widespread misery it has inflicted on the Azerbaijani people. Simultaneously, the regime has begun constructing a new object of hatred—anti-war activists—attempting to scapegoat them for any dissent or criticism that challenges the status quo. In doing so, the regime seeks to sustain its power by perpetuating a cycle of hate and division, rather than addressing the underlying issues that truly afflict the nation.
Myth 2: Being Anti-War Means Being Anti-Azerbaijan
In recent weeks, as the government tightens its grip on power and intensifies its repression of the anti-war movement in Azerbaijan, the narrative that equates anti-war sentiment with being anti-Azerbaijan has been aggressively pushed. The regime has repeatedly demonized anti-war activists, painting them as traitors and internal enemies. Yet, despite the government's efforts, this deeply securitized narrative appears to be losing its strength.
On one hand, we know that since July 2020,the popular demand for war in the streets of Baku, that was later used as a justification of start of 2020 September war, made it seem like Azerbaijanis not only want war, but they revel in it. Yet on the other hand, we know from our interaction with ordinary citizens, women, people living on the border regions, that people were fed up with the continuity of militarization and war, rationally wanted peace in its simplest negative and abstract meaning as absence of war, unlike the totalising and unified narrative of Azerbaijan’s warmongering. It was also evident from many research conducted prior to the 2020 war that, the more people were closer to the war-zone, the more they wanted peace, contrasting with their middle and working-class suburban counterparts who were more enthusiastic about war. However, this doesn't change the fact that opium of nationalism is stronger than any rational thought of the marginalized and oppressed populations.
During the election campaign of Vafa Nagi, a regime troll attempted to discredit her by asking, "Are the soldiers who died in the 44 days Karabakh war martyrs or dead for you?" Vafa's response, "I am fighting for a society where mothers won't lose their sons, sisters won't lose their brothers at war" was met with applause and cheers from the audience. This episode underscores a bitter truth for the regime: no matter how much they demonize the anti-war movement and prepare for further military aggression, the people are not easily disillusioned. This was evident during the September 2022 attacks when Azerbaijan crossed into Armenian territory. For many, the "just war" ended in 2020, and its unnecessary continuation is no longer justified. The regime's attempts to equate anti-war sentiment with disloyalty to the nation are losing their potency as more people recognize the value of peace over perpetual conflict.
Myth 3: Azerbaijanis Lack a Culture of Election Participation
The regime's strategy isn’t just about fear; it also involves offering temporary rewards to those who remain loyal. This system of positive reinforcement has eroded the population’s sense of morality, driving society into a state of collective neurosis where delusion often outweighs reality. The lack of political participation isn’t due to some imagined "culture of ignorance" among the masses. This is an elitist gaze on social relations as the regime would want us to believe. This myth is debunked when we look at instances where, given the slightest opportunity, political engagement flourishes.
Take the example of Vafa Nagi, who mobilized her community in the Neftchala region, encouraging them to participate in the election process. Her efforts proved that, when necessity and possibility align, the people of Azerbaijan—like people everywhere—are rational beings capable of recognizing their own agency and power. The real issue is that such opportunities are exceedingly rare, and it takes immense courage, like that demonstrated by Vafa, to seize them.
However, it is crucial to recognize that changing authoritarian regimes through electoral processes alone is often impossible. History shows us that elections under such regimes rarely lead to genuine change. Moreover, the electoral system and the institution of majoritarian representation are inherently flawed models of governance. Majoritarian democracy often results in the tyranny of the majority, marginalizing minority voices.
There are real-world examples that offer alternative visions—such as the direct democracy practices in Mongolia, the deliberative democratic institutions in Switzerland and Ireland, and the radical democratic governance models of the Zapatistas. True political participation means rejecting the creation of an elite ruling class through passive voting and embracing active involvement in shaping society.
Myth 4: Trolls Can Survive Forever
Trolls are temporary, and their transgressions will not be forgiven. History has shown us that the same regime that nurtures its trolls and enablers will eventually turn against them. For many, aligning with an autocratic regime is a means of survival, a fate all too familiar to those who lived through the Soviet era. But becoming a troll—pouring extra energy into empowering the regime’s oppression and ensuring the spread of its malevolence—is a step beyond mere complicity. It is an active embrace of evil, more insidious than the regime itself.
These individuals may receive material and symbolic rewards for their loyalty, but these are merely superficial compensations. Beneath the surface, they project their deep-seated insecurities onto those they perceive as vulnerable, reveling in the power to oppress. These trolls intentionally choose the path of evil, provoking, dishonoring, and slandering others with impunity. In the eyes of the public, they are not just enablers of the regime—they are its most despicable agents, the worst kind of enemy.
Yet, the legitimacy of these trolls is always fleeting. Their temporary prominence crumbles when they are discarded by the very regime they served so fervently. It is their inevitable fate to be used, discarded, and ultimately forgotten. Most do not survive this fall from grace; they vanish along the way, never making it to the end. But some, like chameleons, adapt and survive, reinventing themselves as fake opposition figures or philanthropists, wearing many masks. Despite their attempts to endure, their doom is certain. They may linger for a time, but they are ultimately condemned to fade away, their legacy tarnished by the very evil they once embraced.
Myth 5: We Have Women in Power
Nasimi Aghayev, Azerbaijan's Ambassador to Germany, recently boasted about the so-called "women empowered government" of Azerbaijan, highlighting that in the latest parliamentary elections, 26 out of 125 seats were won by women—the highest number since 1995. To this, we respond with a firm, "Hold my beer."
Yes, women’s representation in political power can signify emancipation, but only when these women act as autonomous subjects, empowered to make decisions for themselves and genuinely represent their communities. The struggle of Vafa Nagi exemplifies this potential. She demonstrates that women can indeed fight for themselves and their communities, standing as true representatives of the people. However, this potential is undermined when women like her opponent, Tenzile Rustemkhanli, instead of challenging the regime’s injustices, become its enablers, participating in a grotesque charade.
Out of these 26 "elected" women, how many truly represent the people of Azerbaijan? How many genuinely care about women’s issues or the gendered nature of labor? Far from challenging patriarchy, many of these women actively support it, going so far as to demonize and oppress other women. In liberal democracies, the myth of women in power often reproduces the same oppressive structures, despite of women having de-facto powers in the very system. But in illiberal autocracies like Azerbaijan, these women serve merely as a "feminized" façade. They are instruments of the regime, propping up patriarchy and autocracy rather than dismantling them. Their presence is not a sign of progress but a tool of the very forces they should be opposing.
Women’s participation in power structures is nothing more than "equal power domination." While it may appear that women are breaking glass ceilings, in reality, they are only reinforcing the very structures of oppression that keep the majority in place. By shattering these ceilings, they create the illusion of progress, but the task of cleaning up the shattered pieces falls to those still excluded from true power.
Yes, recognition and representation are important, but without a genuine redistribution of power and resources, the presence of women in these roles fails to deliver either equality or justice. Instead of challenging the patriarchal and autocratic foundations of the regime, these women often become complicit in perpetuating them. Gender difference alone does not dismantle systems of oppression; it merely diversifies the faces of domination. True equality and justice will only be achieved when participation in power is coupled with a radical restructuring of the system itself—ensuring that power and resources are shared equitably among all.
Commentaires