President Aliyev puts Azerbaijan’s story at heart of global justice debate

When Azerbaijan's President Ilham Aliyev took the tribune at the United Nations General Assembly, he did not merely recount his country’s achievements; he issued a challenge to the international community. His words - “Let us together build a world without double standards, where justice is not selective, the rule of law is respected, and peace is achieved not through words alone, but through actions” - captured both the frustration and the hope of smaller nations long subjected to selective morality in world affairs.

This statement was more than a flourish. It came at the conclusion of a speech that traced Azerbaijan’s journey from decades of occupation and war to peace, reconstruction, and international partnership. At each stage, President Aliyev’s appeal to the world rested on one principle: international law must not only exist on paper, it must be upheld in practice.

“For many years, I spoke from this tribune about the tragedies of aggression, occupation, and injustice experienced by Azerbaijan.”

With these words, Aliyev reminded the UN of its own shortcomings. For nearly three decades, Azerbaijan was vocal about the occupation of its territories by Armenia. Four Security Council resolutions demanded Armenia’s withdrawal, yet they remained unenforced. This was not merely an Azerbaijani grievance; it was a glaring example of how international institutions can allow law to be flouted with impunity.

Aliyev’s framing matters because it highlights the asymmetry in how the UN and its most powerful members treat different conflicts. In some cases, sanctions and interventions follow swiftly. In others, such as Azerbaijan’s plight, silence and inertia prevail. By invoking this history, the head of state exposed a structural weakness in global governance: when justice is selective, law itself loses legitimacy.

“In 2020, after almost 30 years of ineffective negotiations, Azerbaijan was forced to exercise its legitimate right to self-defense under Article 51 of the UN Charter.”

This passage was a reminder that Azerbaijan’s military action during the 44-Day Patriotic War was not unilateral aggression but grounded in the very charter of the United Nations. The President stressed compliance with international humanitarian law, contrasting Azerbaijan’s conduct with Armenia’s indiscriminate shelling of civilians. The implicit critique is clear: why did the world accept Azerbaijan’s restraint as invisible, while Armenia’s violations met little more than rhetorical condemnation?

By presenting the war as the lawful execution of a right the UN itself enshrines, the Azerbaijani President underscored his core argument: the selective enforcement of law forces states to take matters into their own hands. Peace was restored not because the international system worked, but because Azerbaijan asserted what the system had denied for decades.

“Right after our victorious war, Azerbaijan declared its readiness to open a new page in relations with Armenia based on mutual recognition of territorial integrity and sovereignty.”

This was not triumphalism but pragmatism. President Aliyev reminded the audience that peace is not built on vengeance but on recognition. Azerbaijan’s proposal of five basic principles, rooted in international law, was an offer of reconciliation rather than domination. The signing of the peace agreement in Washington this summer, witnessed by US President Donald Trump, demonstrates how bilateralism, rather than moribund international bodies, created results.

The decision to jointly close the OSCE Minsk Group was especially symbolic. For decades, that group presided over a stalemate. By discarding it, Armenia and Azerbaijan chose agency over external manipulation. In President Ilham Aliyev’s telling, this was not only a diplomatic move but a philosophical one: true peace must emerge from those directly involved, not from distant powers invested in perpetuating the status quo.

“Another key outcome of the Washington Summit is the ‘Trump Route for International Peace and Prosperity’ (TRIPP).”

Connectivity lies at the heart of Aliyev’s vision for durable peace. The Zangazur corridor, reframed as TRIPP, is more than infrastructure. It is an attempt to lock peace into economic interdependence. By invoking this at the UN, Ilham Aliyev made a broader point: in a fragmented world, peace cannot rest solely on treaties; it must be built into the arteries of commerce, transport, and shared prosperity.

“The waiver by President Trump of the sanctions imposed on Azerbaijan in 1992 … is a historic step as well.”

The Azerbaijani President's reference to Section 907 of the Freedom Support Act, which unfairly penalised Azerbaijan while rewarding Armenia, returns us to the theme of double standards. For decades, Washington’s policy embodied contradiction: condemning occupation in principle but rewarding the occupier in practice. Its reversal is not only a bilateral milestone but also a global lesson. Selective justice breeds mistrust; correcting it opens pathways to cooperation.

“During the time of occupation, Armenia levelled to the ground hundreds of Azerbaijani cities and villages, and deliberately ruined 65 mosques.”

President Ilham Aliyev used this moment to highlight the scale of cultural destruction Azerbaijan endured. In an era when cultural heritage is increasingly weaponised in conflicts, his words carried resonance. The Great Return programme, bringing tens of thousands back to rebuilt towns, is more than domestic policy. It is a rebuttal to the idea that displacement and destruction must be permanent. Again, the message to the world was simple: justice must involve restoration, not just rhetoric.

“Coming to the global challenges we are facing, we believe that the response must be inclusive, fair, and universal.”

Here, the Azerbaijani President expanded his focus beyond Azerbaijan. By citing Azerbaijan’s hosting of COP29 and its role in shaping the Baku Finance Goal, which aims to triple global climate finance commitments, he positioned his country not merely as a victim of selective justice but as a contributor to global solutions. His warning against “unrealistic targets” in the green transition was a subtle rebuke to Western approaches that ignore developmental realities. Fairness in climate policy, like fairness in conflict resolution, requires recognising the different capacities and needs of states.

“As of today, we are supplying natural gas to 14 countries.”

This reminder of Azerbaijan’s role in energy security reinforces President Aliyev’s central claim: his country is not peripheral but indispensable to global stability. Energy corridors, cargo routes, and fibre-optic projects all tie Azerbaijan into the global system. The lesson is that selective justice not only harms nations like Azerbaijan but also undermines global networks that others depend on.

“Let us together build a world without double standards, where justice is not selective, the rule of law is respected, and peace is achieved not through words alone, but through actions.”

President Ilham Aliyev’s closing words were both a plea and a warning. Double standards erode trust. Selective justice breeds resentment. Empty words without action delegitimise international law itself. Azerbaijan’s history illustrates all three, and its recovery shows the alternative: when a state acts with clarity of vision, invests in its people, and anchors itself in law, it can transform its destiny.

This message resonates beyond the Caucasus. From Palestine to Ukraine, from Africa to the South China Sea, states hear similar complaints: why does law apply in one case but not another? Why do resolutions gather dust while people suffer? His call challenges the UN to answer these questions honestly. If it cannot, the world will increasingly resemble Azerbaijan’s past, one where nations are forced to secure justice alone.

The true test of the international system is not whether it can draft resolutions but whether it can enforce them equally. Azerbaijan’s story, told by President Aliyev at the UN, is a reminder of what happens when it fails, and what becomes possible when justice finally prevails.