Henrikh Mkhitaryan has given European leaders a huge opportunity

Mkhitaryan’s case and the Europa Final must not be the exception to the rule of indifference to this region and its people. A new intensity of peace talks should be Europe’s aim

Europe’s sporting community is reflecting on events in Azerbaijan following Henrikh Mkhitaryan’s decision not to attend the Europa League final in Baku. The news that Armenian midfielder has decided to miss the important match over security fears relating to the ongoing conflict between Azerbaijan and Armenia has sent Arsenal fans, the British media, politicians and the event hosts into a spin.

But does Western Europe really understand the cause of his decision, save for the fact that it has something to do with tension in the South Caucasus?

It is disappointing that Arsenal Manager Unai Emery's justifiable and candid admission that he doesn’t “really understand the politics” could be just as true for foreign ministries across Europe.

In the House of Commons, Tom Watson and Jeremy Wright agreed that discrimination against those with Armenian names seeking to attend the final represented a stain on the reputation of the beautiful game. But underneath the rather hollow (even if sincere) expressions of concern, there is a serious political question highlighted by the Mkhitaryan case: what is to be done about one of the most entrenched ethnic conflicts at the intersection between Europe and Asia?

Armenia and Azerbaijan are both countries with rich historical and cultural heritage. Transcaucasia represents the cradle of primitive humankind and the graveyard of some of the world’s greatest empires. The warmth and hospitality of both Armenians and Azeris is legendary, but when it comes to seeking common ground between an Armenian and an Azeri, the hospitality usually ends. Many will testify to the relative harmony of relations between Armenians and Azeris on the streets of Tbilisi, Georgia’s capital, but this is a poor excuse for the continuing and entrenched rivalry that otherwise blights the South Caucasus.

As the USSR fell into disarray in the late 1980s, long-held grievances bubbled-up to the surface in the capitals of Yerevan and Baku.

For Azeris, the Bolsheviks’ decision to segregate the mainland from Turkey by giving land to Armenia (creating an exclave, called “Nakhchivan”) was seen as an unforgivable attempt to separate them from their Turkish brothers. Armenians in turn had long-feared being hemmed-in by enemies on all sides, with the genocide of 1915 at the hands of the Ottomans still a terribly bitter memory.

Their focus shifted to protecting an Armenian population in a region within the recognised borders of the Azerbaijani Soviet Socialist Republic. Known to Armenians as “Artsakh”, the land of Nagorno-Karabakh (‘NK’) held a referendum in favour of independence in 1988 in which the Azeri population refused to participate. Tensions swiftly escalated, with NK an surrounding regions being sequestered by Armenian military forces in 1992 as Baku languished in political turmoil.

The resulting NK war was preceded by undeniable acts of violence against Armenian communities in Sumgait. During the war, Azeri villagers in Khojaly were also attacked and brutally murdered. These events have led to long-lasting hostility between two communities divided by no-man’s land.

The memory of violence is hard to overcome. In Sadarapat, Armenia, two years ago I met a woman tending to the grave of her husband, who had died before the NK "cease-fire" in 1994. Manik had been left to provide for her four children without Galust by her side. The passage of two decades had healed no wounds.

Throughout Azerbaijan I hear similar stories from Azeris who once lived in Yerevan or Karabakh and whose nostalgia for their homeland is matched only by their hostility towards those who took it from them.

Since the cease-fire of 1994, there has been no peace: just long periods without intensive fighting. Men have continued to die unnecessarily at the military border and in April 2016 a conflagration witnessed Baku re-take territory but with further loss of life.

The publicity that Mkhitaryan’s case has shone on this little-understood conflict should provide new impetus in Europe to mediate between Baku and Yerevan. The time is ripe for progress, if not a conclusive resolution. In April 2018 a revolution in Armenia brought Nikol Pashinyan to office. The new prime minister is a man without the NK connections or history of his predecessors. Baku has at points also shown willingness to seek compromise.

In short, Mkhitaryan’s case and the Europa Final must not be the exception to the rule of indifference to this region and its people, which plagues Western European politics. A new intensity of peace talks should be Europe’s aim.

Perhaps one day, I can sit in Republic Square in Yerevan or along the Baku boulevard, sipping on Armenian Brandy or Azeri tea leaves with Armenian and Azeri friends, talking about something other than this unforgiving conflict: only then can we say that we have done our best for peace in Transcaucasia.