News
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War & peace
5 min read

After the first war, before the next

Once more border clashes between Armenia and Azerbaijan are occurring. Lika Zakaryan reflects on what happened since the last war ended.

Lika Zakaryan is a writer and photographer based in the Republic of Artsakh (Karabakh).

A child protestor holds a placard at a demonstration
Artsakh citizens protest against the blockade and its effects.
VoA, Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons.

More than two years ago the war between Armenia and Azerbaijan for Nagorno-Karabakh/Artsakh ended, but many fundamental issues remain. Who will provide security and services for the region’s residents - Armenians? How is humanitarian aid managed and by whom?. And, nobody knows if the so-called “ceasefire” will hold.  

Azerbaijan won the war, with the Armenian side losing significant territory in and around Nagorno-Karabakh. Over one-third of the population became refugees, losing their homes and everything they managed to create during all their lives. Now Azerbaijan controls those territories, but they mainly remain not inhabited. Those territories that remained under the control of Armenians, are still populated only with Armenians, and Azerbaijanis have to approached them. In order to prevent any armed conflict in the region (in fact, to protect Armenians from Azerbaijanis) 4,000 Russian soldiers-peacekeepers and emergency services staff keep an uneasy peace.  

They were already in Artsakh within hours of the peace agreement’s signing. Artsakh is part of Nagorno-Karabakh, an Armenian enclave within Azerbaijan. Since then, peacekeepers have done a lot: escorting villagers to visit graves, mediating disputes, tending crops, and fixing water pipes. They set up checkpoints along the only road connecting Artsakh to Armenia, to ensure a safe corridor for Armenians living in Artsakh.   

Before the war, there were 150 000 Armenians living in Artsakh. After the war, the numbers decreased to 120 000. Some people didn’t come back from Armenia, where they found a shelter, after losing their homes. Some moved to Armenia or Russia because they didn’t want to live in uncertainty. And, unfortunately, wars take lives, and some people lost their lives during that period. But mostly the people of Artsakh remained resilient and wanted to live in their homes or create new ones, even not knowing for how long they will last.  

It is said in Artsakh and Armenia, that every human being now living in Artsakh is a hero. They say that because it’s not easy to sleep every night not knowing if you are going to wake up in the morning tothe sounds of bombs, or if you are going to wake up at all. Because since the end of the war Azerbaijan has done so much to traumatize people physically and mentally. 

According to the peace agreement Armenians and Azerbaijanis should remain in the positions they were in at that moment. In other words, after the signing and the cease-fire, they have no right to move forward and occupy new territory. However, after just one month, Azerbaijan entered and captured two Armenian villages, taking more than 60 Armenians as prisoners of war. After that, during those two years, similar military operations were repeated numerous times by Azerbaijan. Again, people were afraid of the sounds of war, they heard and saw military drones, and felts those feelings again. 

It was also a manifestation of psychological violence that the Facebook page of the Artsakh National Assembly was hacked, with a flag of Azerbaijan posted as the main picture. The accompanying text read:  

“We call on the Armenians living in Karabakh to leave the occupied territories of Azerbaijan within 168 hours, otherwise all Armenian citizens will be killed.” 

People had no idea if they should believe that threat or not. Maybe this was just another provocation, but could it really happen? Did they need to evacuate everyone. Or not believe it and stay in their houses? No matter how hard people try to stay strong, no one closed their eyes that night, thinking that it was possible that Azerbaijanis will enter the cities and villages and commit a genocide against the peaceful residents.  

Many violations happened during these last two years. And then since December 12, 2022, Azerbaijan has blockaded the only road connecting Artsakh to Armenia depriving residents of a basic right - a right of freedom of movement. It’s the only road people can travel in and out on, the only road through which the 120 000 people get food, medical and other supplies. It's the only road that connects Artsakh with the outside world. Blockading this road caused a humanitarian disaster. Lack of food, medicine, work, and cash. Nobody can pass along that road. 

The blockade was not enough, and Azerbaijan decided to shut off gas and electricity supplies to Artsakh again during the coldest months of winter. People simply do not have the opportunity to warm up. In a sub-zero temperature, people were deprived of the opportunity to turn on a small heater for hours. The little children, unable to stand the cold, fell ill and ended up in the hospital. 

The healthcare system in Artsakh is still a little weak. There are hospitals, but people who are in critical condition, between life and death, are mostly transferred to Yerevan, the capital of Armenia, in order to receive proper treatment there. However, due to the blockade, some people could not be evacuated, and died. 

Also, a food rationing system was introduced in Artsakh, where people can get food only with a coupon. According to the system, every person gets one kilogram of rice, one kilogram of pasta, one kilogram of sugar and one kilogram of buckwheat in a month. With those coupons, people come to the stores and buy their share. 

Food is so scarce that locals have begun to notice that street animals are starving to death because they can't find food in the dumps. The reason is that people have nothing to throw away. 

Many families have been divided because one or another family member mistakenly stayed on the other side of the blockade. Many people went to Yerevan to see a doctor and due to the road’s blockade cannot return home. The same impact was felt for those going in the opposite direction. In total, 1,100 people remained in Armenia and did not manage to return to Artsakh. 

Artsakh children are deprived of the right to education. Schools and kindergartens are closed for months because there is no way to heat them. Also, they cannot feed children in kindergartens due to the lack of food, and children in schools cannot take food to school, because there is almost no food at home. And sitting for six or seven hours without food is very difficult for children. 

Azerbaijanis also regularly cut telephone and Internet wires, and people are deprived of the only opportunity to even connect with the world virtually. 

People are trying to overcome all these difficulties, but no one knows when these provocations and torments will end. When they will finally be able to live decently. And the world hasn't even heard of that small area in the far South Caucasus and the resilient people of Artsakh, who are so loyal to their roots and homeland.

Article
Assisted dying
Care
Comment
Death & life
6 min read

What do you make of Esther?

A campaigner’s call to change an assisted dying law got family calling MND sufferer Michael Wenham. Here he shares why such legalisation will increase people’s fear of dying.
An image of a woman wearing formal clothing is overlaid by a BBC logo, a programme logo, a sound wave illustration and a caption.
Today Programme post about Esther Rantzen's comments.
BBC.

"What do you make of Esther Rantzen?" asked my brother. 

I knew what he was talking about, as no doubt all listeners of Radio 4's Today Programme would have done. Clearly the advocates of assisted dying, or specifically suicide, have launched the next round of their campaign, even enlisting the late Diana Rigg, whose resemblance to my wife was once commented on by an old welsh policemen, as a witness. The Today Programme devoted a great deal of airtime to the subject over a number of days.  

My reply to my brother was that I thought it was a good thing if we were more open about the subject of death and dying. After all they are events everyone without exception will come in contact with at some point or another. So, the sooner we stop treating it as a taboo subject the better. However, the dangers of legalising assisted suicide, are proved by places like Canada and Belgium. 

I don’t see any way to protect us from such coercion, internal or external, except to demonstrate through legislation that every life, however tenuous, is equally important.

In January this year I made a submission to the Parliamentary Health and Social Care Committee consultation on assisted dying/assisted suicide. Here’s some of that submission. 

“I am writing as an individual who was diagnosed with a rare form of Motor Neurone Disease (MND) twenty-two years ago and who has experienced the condition’s relentless deterioration since then. There are a number of my contemporaries who have survived that long. That, and witnessing the ravages of the disease on friends in our local MNDA branch plus an Ethics qualification from Oxford, is the extent of my expertise.” 

“My first observation is how positively my contemporaries, with short or longer prognoses, with the disease seize hold of life. Clearly there are some who, like Rob Burrows, devote themselves to fund-raising and creating awareness; while others enjoy the opportunities of life that come their way. What might have seemed a death sentence has proved a challenge to live. 

"Secondly, I have recently discovered myself how expert professional care can enhance what is often portrayed as undignified dependence. Good caring can in fact add to quality of life. The sad thing however is that it is not something which the state will normally provide. Along with terminal palliative care, domestic social care must surely be a spending priority for any government that cares about the well-being of all its citizens. I’m fortunate to live an area of excellent MND provision and good, though not abundant, palliative care. But I understand that this is not equally spread through the country. If it were, I suspect it would reduce the fear of dying which must be a major motivator for assistance to ending one’s life. 

"Ironically, in MND, according to the Association’s information sheet, How will I die?, those fears are greatly exaggerated: 

In reality, most people with MND have a peaceful death. The final stages of MND will usually involve gradual weakening of the breathing muscles and increasing sleepiness. This is usually the cause of death, either because of an infection or because the muscles stop working. 

Specialist palliative care supports quality of life through symptom control. practical help, medication to ease symptoms and emotional support for you and your family. 

When breathing becomes weaker, you may feel breathless and this can be distressing. However, your health care professionals can provide support to reduce anxiety. 

You can also receive medication to ease symptoms throughout the course of the disease, not just in the later stages. If you have any concerns about the way medication will affect you, ask the professionals who are supporting you for guidance. 

Further weakening of the muscles involved in breathing will cause tiredness and increasing sleepiness. Over a period of time, which can be hours, days or weeks, your breathing is likely to become shallower. This usually leads to reduced consciousness, so that death comes peacefully as breathing slowly reduces and eventually stops.

"So, this is a third and subtle danger of legalising assisted dying/suicide. It would increase people’s fear of the inevitable fact of death and dying. I think this can be one factor in explaining why, in jurisdictions which have introduced it, we see it being extended beyond the first strict limits. It is held out as an answer to this fearful fact, death, whereas in fact death and dying should be talked about in realistic terms, as normal, as concisely outlined by Dr Kathryn Mannix. As she says, normally dying isn’t as bad as we think

If the government should be doing anything, the first thing it might well do, is to promote informed education about dying of the sort exemplified by specialists such as Dr Mannix, as well as adequately funding her former specialism of palliative care. It should start with schools’ curricula. After all every child will have encountered death at some stage. 

Finally, the dangers of coercion, in my experience, are not so much external as internal. It’s often rightly observed that prolonged pain is worse for the engaged spectator than for the sufferer. If you care for someone, seeing them struggling is barely tolerable. You may wish to see their struggle over, but underlying that wish is your own desire to be spared more of your own horror show. The person who is ‘suffering’ however has that strong survival instinct, common to all humans, and is more concentrated on living than dying. Having said that, when you are depressed, as might be natural, that instinct gets temporarily eclipsed. Then you need protection from your own dark sky. It is at such times that your other inner demons emerge: your sense of being a burden - to your family, to your friends (if you have any), to the NHS and to the state purse; your fear of losing your savings and of leaving nothing to your loved ones; your fear of pain and of dying (exaggerated by popular mythology), and your sense of suffering, heightened by your depression.  

"For most of us with long incurable diseases, it’s these internal perceptions that are most coercive, although they can be easily compounded or even exploited from outside. I don’t see any way to protect us from such coercion, internal or external, except to demonstrate through legislation that every life, however tenuous, is equally important to our society and worth caring for. ‘Any man’s death diminishes me...’ and so we will value it to the end." 

I'm grateful that when I received my 'motor neurone disorder' diagnosis, which was initially frightening, I couldn't be tempted to opt for an early death. Instead of one Christmas with my family (as I warned them), I've enjoyed 22 more Christmases. That was the law against suicide fulfilling its safeguarding function, protecting the vulnerable, as I was then. Contrary to my preconceptions, my form of MND (PLS) is very gradual and I've been able to live a full if increasingly limited life, thanks to my wife, Jane, who cares for me 100 per cent. 24 hours a day, seven days a week.  

My view is still that legalising assisted dying/suicide has more cons than pros. The better choice is to invest in hospice and palliative care, so that everyone may have access to pain and symptom care in the last years of their life.