In the context of discussions about the American scenario for unlocking communications, Armenia finds itself at the epicenter of a geopolitical conflict, where any step could provoke new problems and create new enemies. Russia and Iran, two strategic players that have shaped the balance of power on the South Caucasus for decades, are watching with concern the prospects of growing American involvement. And this concern is not unfounded.
Official Tehran has repeatedly emphasized that any format that weakens Armenian-Iranian connectivity is perceived as a threat. Iran categorically opposes the “Zangezur Corridor” in its extraterritorial form. However, when it comes to infrastructure coordinated by the USA or involving pro-Western institutions, the unease does not disappear—on the contrary, it intensifies. The primary concern here relates to Iran’s security threats: the presence of armed individuals, even if they are representatives of private companies, near the country’s borders cannot but alarm Tehran. This anxiety heightens especially when it becomes clear that behind these private companies stands the USA.
Moreover, a scenario in which Iran is excluded from the transit chain—where all flows go from the Caspian to Turkey, bypassing Iran—is highly unfavorable for Tehran. It perceives this as geo-economic isolation and will likely seek to integrate into the logistics either through pressure or its own initiatives.
For Moscow, the issue is not only about geography but also symbolism. The South Caucasus is a traditional sphere of Russian influence. Unlocking communications without Russia’s active participation, especially amid cooling relations with Yerevan, is seen as an attempt to push it out of the region. Furthermore, within the logic of the “American scenario,” Moscow detects a political message: the West is encroaching on a region Russia considers its sphere of influence.
The response could be multi-layered: pressure on Armenia through the energy and trade sectors, activation of an information campaign, and leveraging pro-Russian internal groups that will criticize the American scenario regardless of any potential positive outcomes for Armenia.
At the same time, Russia may promote its own version of unlocking—through the EAEU or “peacekeeping coordination,” where Russian structures would act as key operators. This “counter-scenario” would be positioned against the American one, and the choice between them will become a political watershed for Armenia.
In this situation, Yerevan finds itself in a position where the choice is not merely—or not primarily—economic but geopolitical. In reality, this choice is a question of geopolitical loyalty and the future model of security.
Can Armenia benefit from this process? Yes, it can. But only if it acts with subtlety and strategy. This means not antagonizing Iran and Russia but engaging them as interested participants in projects. Armenia should promote an inclusive communications architecture in which every player—from India to the UAE—can find its niche. It must present this project to partners not as “American” but as “Armenian in essence and international in form.” Most critically, Armenia must retain control over the communications, avoiding full management by any single power.
Today, Armenia stands before a rare opportunity—not just to restore transport links but to redefine its role in the region. However, this will require extraordinary diplomatic flexibility. Any tilt—toward the USA, Russia, or Iran—will be perceived as a blow to someone’s interests. To survive and succeed in such a situation means not choosing a side but creating a balance in which Armenia becomes not an object but a subject of regional architecture.