Iran looks far harder to break than many in the West assumed. Pascal Lottaz talks with Dr. Pietro Shakarian and Eldar Mamedov about Iranian Azerbaijan, Armenia, Israel, Turkey, failed diplomacy,...
Article
## Iranian Azerbaijan reality
What emerges from the exchange is a clear rebuttal to simplistic narratives about Iranian Azerbaijan as a colonial-style Achilles’ heel for Tehran. The conversation stresses that the Turkish-speaking populations of northwest Iran are not an externally poised fifth column but a deeply integrated component of the Iranian polity. Historical memory and contemporary politics converge to produce an identity that is Iranian first and ethnically Azeri second. The speakers emphasize not only elite representation — noting prominent figures across government and the military with Azerbaijani roots — but also popular sentiment: everyday jokes, cultural attachment, and civic pride that undercut the plausibility of mass secession.
This assessment carries practical implications. If Iranian Azerbaijanis broadly identify with the state, then foreign actors hoping to foment separatism face a steep uphill battle. The recent wartime environment, with political upheaval and external pressure, would have provided fertile ground for mobilization if widespread separatist sentiment existed. That it did not materialize is treated in the conversation as empirical evidence that the “South Azerbaijan” thesis is primarily an external political narrative, cultivated during the Soviet era and maintained for political utility by elites in the neighboring republic. In short: demographic counts and satellite broadcasts do not substitute for on-the-ground legitimacy.
## Soviet myths and deep integration
The conversation situates the South Azerbaijan idea within a longer Soviet-era pattern of border politics and nation-building. It argues that the myth was originally exported as part of a Soviet strategy to destabilize Iran’s northern provinces in the mid‑20th century and that it has been recycled by post‑Soviet nationalist elites. Yet the speakers caution against treating myth as reality: the Soviet-imported narrative misreads centuries of social, political, and cultural integration.
Beyond history lessons, the deeper claim is about structural resilience. The integration of Iranian Azerbaijanis into state institutions, civil society, and national myth-making resembles other long-standing multinational polities where ethnicity does not neatly map onto political loyalty. The comparison used in the discussion—how historical integration shaped identities in other empires and states—underscores that borderland populations can be fully embedded in the state project. This helps explain why overtures from external capitals or émigré media, however rhetorically potent, have little purchase where local attachments are strong.
## Armenians and Christians in Iran
One of the conversation’s persistent corrective themes is Iran’s treatment of its Armenian and Christian minorities — a subject often obscured in Western caricatures of the Islamic Republic. The discussants stress that Christian heritage sites in Iranian Azerbaijan are not merely tolerated but preserved, visited, and woven into local cultural life. Monasteries and sacred places serve as shared sites of memory where Muslim and Christian Iranians meet, a vivid counterpoint to portrayals of ubiquitous sectarian antagonism.
The speakers also contrast this custodianship with recent episodes across the border, where Armenian monuments have suffered destruction. That contrast is leveraged to make a broader point: assessments of Iran should factor in a nuanced social reality in which religious difference is accommodated in ways that matter politically. Of course, the conversation does not deny imperfections: legal and institutional inequalities exist. But when measured against regional alternatives, Iran’s model of minority integration appears comparatively robust. This has two consequences: it reduces the appeal of external patronage aimed at minorities, and it complicates narratives that frame the Iranian state as uniquely hostile to non-Muslims.
## Iran as a civilizational state
A recurring argument in the dialogue is that modern strategic miscalculations rest on a poor grasp of Iran’s civilizational depth. The speakers present Iran not as a fragile, artificial construct whose borders were scribbled on a post‑colonial map, but as a polity with millennia of historical continuity. From pre‑Islamic empires through the Safavid and Qajar dynasties to the present republic, state forms have coalesced around a geographic core and cultural matrix that persist across epochs.
This historical rootedness matters because it shapes how elites and populations perceive threats, endurance, and sacrifice. A state seen as an heir to long civilizational traditions is less likely to fragment under pressure; it can draw upon a reservoir of legitimacy that is not merely transactional. The speakers use that lens to explain strategic misreadings by external policymakers who assume Iran is a brittle collection of grievances rather than a polity with deep institutional and cultural cohesion. In geopolitics, appreciation of civilizational continuity helps explain why coercive campaigns can consolidate resolve rather than produce capitulation.
## Gaza Israel and failed diplomacy
The conversation broadens to link regional dynamics — especially the Gaza–Israel conflagration — to diplomatic failure and strategic spillovers. The discussants argue that failed diplomacy, miscalculated coercion, and a lack of credible channels for de‑escalation have produced a cascading regional crisis. External actors who pursued narrow tactical gains found themselves unable to isolate conflicts or anticipate second‑ and third‑order consequences in neighboring theatres.
A key point is normative as much as practical: the absence of sustained dialogue channels and the erosion of intergovernmental contacts (including parliamentary diplomacy) have closed off avenues for political management. Where traditional diplomacy recedes, military logics and media-driven narratives fill the vacuum. The conversation implies that the resulting volatility incentivizes regional alignments driven by perceived existential threats rather than by mutual interest, reinforcing cycles of escalation and limiting space for negotiated settlements.
## Azerbaijan Turkey and war risks
Turning to the South Caucasus, the exchange flags a worrisome nexus of national aspirations, alliance politics, and misjudged leverage centered on Azerbaijan and Turkey. The speakers depict a scenario in which nationalist narratives in the neighboring republic, sometimes manipulated by political elites, raise the risk of cross‑border intervention or brinksmanship. Turkey’s regional posture and support for kin states amplify these dynamics, creating a volatile mix where local disputes can attract external sponsorship.
The conversation emphasizes contingency: while catastrophic scenarios are possible, they are by no means inevitable. Much depends on domestic constraints in each capital, international signaling, and the balance between short‑term political incentives and long‑term security calculations. The point is to avoid deterministic thinking — not to understate risk. War remains an option when rhetoric and sentiment outpace sober appraisal, but it is also avoidable if channels for restraint and credible deterrence are strengthened.
## Armenia politics and corridor fallout
The speakers explore how Armenia’s domestic politics and the long‑running issue of transit corridors have been upended by regional turmoil. The conversation highlights that Armenian public sentiment and elite choices have been reshaped by events on multiple borders, producing new solidarities and fears. One consequence is a recalibration of Armenia’s external orientation: sympathy for Iran during the recent hostilities, for example, reveals fluid public emotions and the limits of rigid alignments based purely on religion or historical rivalries.
The corridor question — access through contested territories and the management
Transcript
Iran War FALLOUT: It Gets Worse for USA |
Mamedov and Shakarian
Iran looks far harder to break than many in the West assumed. Pascal Lottaz talks with Dr. Pietro
Shakarian and Eldar Mamedov about Iranian Azerbaijan, Armenia, Israel, Turkey, failed diplomacy,
and the wider South Caucasus fallout from the war. Links: Eldar Mamedov at Quincy Institute:
https://quincyinst.org/author/eldar-mamedov/ Eldar Mamedov on X: https://twitter.com
/EldarMamedov4 Dr. Pietro A. Shakarian at AUA: https://people.aua.am/team_member/dr-pietro-a-
shakarian/ Pietro A. Shakarian at The Nation: https://www.thenation.com/authors/pietro-shakarian/
Neutrality Studies substack: https://pascallottaz.substack.com (Opt in for Academic Section from
your profile settings: https://pascallottaz.substack.com/s/academic) Merch: https://neutralitystudies-
shop.fourthwall.com Donation: https://neutralitystudies.com/donate Timestamps: 00:00:00 Guests
and Iran background 00:04:43 Iranian Azerbaijan reality 00:13:26 Soviet myths and deep integration
00:16:11 Armenians and Christians in Iran 00:22:16 Iran as a civilizational state 00:27:05 Gaza
Israel and failed diplomacy 00:36:46 Azerbaijan Turkey and war risks 00:55:21 Armenia politics and
corridor fallout 01:00:34 Regional solutions and closing
#Pascal
Welcome back to Neutrality Studies. Tonight we’re joined again by Dr. Pietro Jacarian, a good friend
of the show, and for the first time, Eldar Mamedov, a non-resident fellow at the Quincy Institute and
a member of the Pugwash Council on Science and World Affairs. Pietro, Eldar, welcome.
#Shakarian
Pascal, thank you for having me on. And actually, thank you for having Eldar on, because he's one of
the top experts who can speak to this issue of Iran and Azerbaijan and all that. I'm very glad you
were able to bring him on the show. So, gentlemen, thank you so much for the company, and I'm
looking forward to a great conversation. Thank you.
#Mamedov
My pleasure. It's a pleasure to be here. Thank you so much.
#Pascal
And I'm very glad, you know, because this was actually Pietro's idea. It's a wonderful idea, Pietro.
And Eldar, let's start with you. Can you tell us a bit about your connection with Azerbaijan and Iran?
I understand you were in Iran not too long ago. Could you give us a little of your background and
-- 1 of 17 --
then your analysis of where the Azerbaijani part of Iran stands today, as we speak on this 30th of
March, one month into the war?
#Mamedov
Okay. Well, concerning my background, I've been doing the rounds here in the European Parliament
for more than 15 years, which included organizing missions from the European Parliament to
Tehran—several missions in the happier times when the EU and Iran still had a proper political and
diplomatic dialogue. Interparliamentary diplomacy was one of the branches of this dialogue.
Obviously, that's not happening now, but we can come back to that. I also participated in drafting
dozens of European Parliament resolutions on Iran.
So, not all of them were of equal value, to put it mildly, but that's part of my story. And indeed, I've
been in Iran on almost two dozen occasions. I think, all in all, a total of 17 times, including twice last
year. The first time was at the end of May, actually, which made me one of the very few Western
analysts who visited the Islamic Republic before Israel launched its war against Iran, known as the
12 Days War in 2025. And on that occasion, I participated in them.
#Mamedov
The conference was organized by the Tehran Dialogue Forum, which is part of the main think tank,
the Institute for Political and International Studies, under the Iranian Foreign Ministry. Then I was in
Iran again last year, in November, which once more made me one of the very few Western
researchers to visit after the war. And of course, it gave me some pretty valuable insights into how
the political elite was thinking—how they saw the situation then—which helps to understand their
strategy and the steps they're taking now. But I think equally, if not more valuable, was the
opportunity to travel beyond Tehran, specifically to the northern areas, which very few visitors to
Iran actually get to see.
If anything, when people visit places beyond Tehran, it’s usually Isfahan, Shiraz, or Persepolis—the
historically well-known landmarks. Very few go to Tabriz or to Ardabil in the north. But those are
very rich areas in terms of the ethnic and religious tapestry present there. So it was a pretty
enlightening visit. It wasn’t my first time in the Iranian Azerbaijan area, but the first one was more
than ten years ago, so it was very useful to get updated impressions.
#Pascal
And let's just continue there. I mean, what’s the impression from over there? Because we’ve had all
these talks about, you know, Azerbaijan getting or readying its troops on its side of the border. But
as far as I understand, there are actually more ethnic Azerbaijanis living in Iran than in Azerbaijan.
So what’s the situation around Tabriz and those places? Is there any kind of separatism going on?
-- 2 of 17 --
#Mamedov
No, this is not a serious proposition. Iranian Azerbaijanis have been part and parcel of Iranian history
for centuries. Let's not forget that some of the most prominent monarchical dynasties in Iran’s
history were of Turkic—or, as they would say, Azerbaijani—origin, such as the Safavids, for example,
or the Qajars, the dynasty that ruled before the Pahlavis came to power. Does that make them
Azerbaijani? Of course not. They are Iranians who happen to be ethnically Azeri, who have their own
language, which they call Turkish. Of course, it’s not the Turkish of Istanbul; it’s the Turkish of
Tabriz, or of that area. They actually very seldom use “Azeri” or “Azerbaijani” as a marker of identity.
So what they are, essentially, are Iranian Turks—with the emphasis on Iranian. The overwhelming
majority feel strongly identified with the Iranian state. Let's also not forget that the current supreme
leader, Ayatollah Ali Khamenei, is of Azeri origin. The president, Masoud Pezeshkian, is of Azeri
origin. The chief of staff of the armed forces, who was also killed by the Israelis during the 2024
war, Mohammad Ali Bagheri, was of Azeri origin as well. He was born in Tabriz. And interestingly, in
the case of Bagheri, he was also someone who visited Persepolis and made quite a big show of it—
to express nationalist sentiment as an Iranian Turk. And that is very typical. Iranian Azeris,
Azerbaijanis, Turks—whatever you want to call them—the overwhelming majority of them are
staunch Iranian patriots.
#Pascal
That doesn’t mean that pan-Turkist sentiment doesn’t exist at all. It does exist. There are…
#Mamedov
TV channels beamed from outside Iran—there’s one based in the United States called Gunaz TV,
which is South Azerbaijani TV. Some people do watch that on satellite dishes or otherwise. But I
cannot say that, being in Tabriz or in Ardabil, you feel any strong affinity with the Republic of
Azerbaijan, with its president Aliyev, or any inclination to secede from Iran. In fact, many Iranian
Azerbaijanis joke, “Why would we want to join Baku if we can’t rule Tehran?” And that, in many
ways, is true. Because so many of them—well, I just mentioned three examples, but I could go on
and on. For example, at another level, the best football player and top goal scorer in the history of
Iran is Ali Daei, and he’s from Ardabil. So he’s also of Azerbaijani origin.
There are so many examples like this that it simply doesn’t make any sense. In fact, no one in Iran
even frames the question in terms of ethnicity. This is an entirely imported concept, one that was
promoted during the Soviet Union. The Iranian-Azerbaijani conflict was portrayed as a part of Iran
that was supposedly ripe for liberation from the Persian yoke. That was the narrative spread during
Soviet times, in schoolbooks in Soviet Azerbaijan. And then, when the independent Republic of
-- 3 of 17 --
Azerbaijan was established after the breakup of the Soviet Union, the new elites accepted this
narrative as one of the foundational myths of the Azerbaijani state—particularly the nationalist
movement that first came to power after the breakup, under President Abulfaz Elchibey.
They were—and their political successors in today’s Republic of Azerbaijan still are—very strongly
committed to this idea of southern Azerbaijan. To some extent, Ilham Aliyev’s government has
co‑opted this narrative into its own discourse. But in Aliyev’s case, it’s more opportunistic than truly
passionate or ideological. The point is that this whole narrative of South Azerbaijan is like, you know,
an internal echo‑chamber discussion in Baku. It has literally no impact or influence among Iranian
Azerbaijanis. In fact, the first time I visited those parts of Iran—more than ten years ago—when I
brought up the subject of South Azerbaijan, people were really surprised to hear that such a concept
even exists.
So, to summarize, I would say this is not a serious proposition. And by the way, the recent war has
shown once again—and I hope conclusively—that South Azerbaijan is just a pipe dream. Because if
we were to believe the narrative, that up to 70 million, or some would say 40 million, Iranian
Azerbaijanis exist—by the way, if you listen to some of those Azerbaijani nationalists, you could
easily believe that the majority of the population of Iran is of ethnic Azerbaijani or ethnic Turkish
origin. Yeah, but that’s the nature of all ethnic nationalists: to exaggerate and inflate numbers to
boost their case.
But if indeed that were the case—if those tens of millions of people were ready to revolt in the name
of seceding from Iran, establishing an independent entity, or joining the Republic of Azerbaijan—
then the question is, why didn’t they? Why was there no uprising at all? Remember, there were
widespread protests against the Iranian government, and they were followed shortly afterward by
the Israeli‑U.S. war on Iran. So one would think, could there be any better conditions for such an
uprising, if there were any real basis for it? The fact that it didn’t happen is, I think, conclusive
evidence—if there was ever a need for any—that this concept is simply not a serious proposition.
#Shakarian
Yeah, I also want to add just one more thing to that, because, like Eldar was mentioning, this idea of
South Azerbaijan was promoted during Soviet times. There was even a moment during the Second
World War when the founder of the Pahlavi dynasty, Reza Shah, was overthrown by the British and
the Soviet Union to secure lend-lease supplies through Iran. And at the end of the war, in 1946,
there was actually an effort by the Soviet Union to promote an Azerbaijan People’s Republic in
northern Iran. So there’s this history that Iranians know—of external players trying to foment
breakaway entities in the north of Iran.
And not only that—there was also the Kurdish Mahabad Republic being encouraged at the same
time. Eventually, you know, the Soviets made a deal with the Shah, and that whole episode ended.
And that was the end of it. But there has never been a serious—just like Eldar says—there’s never
-- 4 of 17 --
been a serious push for the independence of Iranian Azerbaijan. To give you an idea, Pascal, the
level of integration of Azerbaijanis with Iran is almost like, historically speaking, how Ukrainians were
integrated with Russians—like how we had someone like Mikhail Gorbachev, who was part Russian,
part Ukrainian.
His wife is fully Ukrainian. Or maybe another example could be the Manchus in China—how they
were historically integrated into Chinese history and culture, like with the Qing Dynasty and all that.
That’s how deeply integrated Iran is. It’s central, really. I mean, that’s how deeply integrated Iranian
Azerbaijan is with the history of Iran. And even someone like Mousavi, the opposition leader from
the 2009 Green Movement—he himself was of Azerbaijani descent, or Iranian-Turkish origin.