After the Karabakh war between Armenia and Azerbaijan, I travelled to the region — visiting lands long under Armenian occupation, documenting scenes, and broadcasting a series of reports.
Among the most striking sights was the Aras River, a historic and poetic symbol in Turkish cultural memory, spanned by the enchanting Khoda Afarin Bridge, which links Azerbaijan to Iran. On the Iranian side, families strolled along its banks, while on the Azerbaijani side, people enjoyed the shade of the opposite shore.
It was there, at the junction of Iran, Armenia, and Azerbaijan, that I first heard whispers about the Zangezur Corridor — long before the name became a hot geopolitical topic. Back in 2021, when I visited the area, Turkish construction companies had just begun building new highways across untouched, undeveloped land.
For Turkey, opening the corridor was a strategic dream. Armenia had cut off Ankara’s direct connection to its Turkic kin in Nakhchivan, and from there to Azerbaijan. The Zangezur route would link Turkey directly to its brothers in the Caucasus and Central Asia. Yet Iran, Russia, and Armenia — each for their own reasons — stood in the way.
Tensions Between Moscow and Baku: A Win for Washington
The strong Turkey–Azerbaijan alliance and Baku’s victory in Karabakh significantly weakened Moscow’s grip on the Caucasus.
Russia grew increasingly frustrated with Azerbaijan’s independence from its influence, tensions peaking when an Azerbaijani civilian aircraft was downed. President Ilham Aliyev openly rebuked Moscow, effectively signalling the end of Russian dominance over his country.
Still, Aliyev knew he could not confront a former occupier relying solely on Turkish backing. He made a decisive move: allying with the United States — reportedly encouraged and supported by Israel, a close partner of Baku. This secured an American security guarantee against Russia, and Aliyev turned toward Washington.
Armenia’s Shift from Moscow
Armenia, dependent on Russia for its military, energy, and logistics, had once received Moscow’s military support in Karabakh. But under pressure from its powerful diaspora, it began opening channels with the West.
The defeat in Karabakh was a turning point. Yerevan felt Moscow had abandoned it, pushing Armenia to seek alternatives. Russia, for its part, had deliberately prevented either side from winning outright to keep both in its sphere of influence — but this strategy backfired, alienating both Baku and Yerevan.
Armenia began publicly questioning Russia’s military bases on its soil, warming ties with Ankara in exchange for promises of economic and energy cooperation tied to normalisation with Azerbaijan. Still, that wasn’t enough to counter Moscow’s pressure, so Armenia turned to Washington — accepting that its peace process with Azerbaijan would become a Donald Trump–branded spectacle.
A Major Blow to Russian Influence
The war in Ukraine has cost Russia far more than expected — not just in military and economic losses, but in eroding its geopolitical standing.
It has lost influence in Syria and now struggles to stop sweeping changes in the Caucasus. Both Armenia and Azerbaijan — once firmly in Moscow’s orbit — are sliding toward Washington.
Now, the U.S. hosts both leaders in Washington, where Trump announces “peace” between them in a televised display. But Washington didn’t stop at mediation — it took control of the Zangezur Corridor, securing rights to operate and develop it for 99 years, effectively turning it into a U.S.-controlled strategic asset under the guise of protection from Russia.
From “Zangezur” to the “Trump International Peace and Prosperity Path” (TRIPP)
Years ago, standing on the banks of the Aras River, I imagined the Zangezur Corridor would one day open — perhaps under Turkish oversight. Never would I have believed that America would run it.
When Washington announced the deal and renamed the corridor the Trump International Peace and Prosperity Path (TRIPP), reactions in Turkey were mixed: officially welcoming the peace agreement between Armenia and Azerbaijan, but privately uneasy with the American branding of a route Ankara had long envisioned as its own gateway to Central Asia.
For Turkey, this is more than a road — it’s a future energy artery, carrying oil and gas flows alongside trade. But with the U.S. controlling operations for nearly a century, what happens if Ankara–Washington relations sour? Legally, Armenia retains ownership, but in practice, removing the U.S. would be near impossible.
New Geopolitics for the Caucasus and Asia
The agreement was welcomed publicly by Turkey, the U.S., Armenia, and Azerbaijan. Yet Iran and Russia openly expressed displeasure, joined — more subtly — by China.
The corridor places Washington at the doorstep of Asia, granting access to resource-rich states such as Kazakhstan, enabling Europe to reduce its dependence on Russian energy.
With Moscow weakened, Beijing may need to rethink its Belt and Road Initiative. From this corridor, the U.S. can pressure Russia from the north, China from the east, and Iran from the south. The deal also opens the door for a potential American military presence in Armenia, though the details remain unclear.
The Caucasus has entered a phase of profound transformation. One lingering question remains:
Does Washington really want the war in Ukraine to end — when every Russian setback seems to expand U.S. influence?
