Defense Strategy in a Post-Artsakh Armenia: A Tech-Enabled Path toward Independence

Armenia finds itself at a critical juncture in its foreign and security policy, as the United States and Europe make inroads, and Russia creates distance. Drawing lessons from the Artsakh war with Azerbaijan, as well as the author’s personal experience in Armenia, this article outlines key policy priorities for Armenia to bolster its defense and deterrence posture against future attacks and more uncertain alliances.

Over the last 6 years, Armenia has been facing a shift in both its society and geopolitical direction. Tensions with neighboring Azerbaijan had been simmering since independence, and they came to a boil in 2020 and 2023 in separate wars over the disputed Nagorno-Karabakh region (known as ‘Artsakh’ to Armenia). Tragically for Armenians, the conflicts resulted in Azerbaijan’s total takeover of the region, the renunciation of claims to the land from Armenia, and the expulsion of Russian peacekeepers, Armenian troops, and the Armenian people who lived in the region.

Though under-discussed in Western media, the collateral damage of this move, and the subsequent political movement Prime Minister Nikol Pashinyan has been leading ever since, is seeking to transform Armenia, its security strategy, its geopolitical identity, and even the identity of Armenians themselves. The Armenia that had been mocked in the past as a satellite state of Russia, has made historic diplomatic moves that have brought serious global interest to the country. Under the second Trump administration, the US has signed and agreed to coordinate the development of the Trump Road to International Peace and Prosperity (TRIPP), a travel and logistics corridor that runs along the Iranian border and seeks to connect Azerbaijan with its exclave of Nakhchivan by rail and road. Under previous Armenian administrations, this project would’ve been seen as unfeasible to execute and, worst of all, paving the way for Azerbaijani expansionist goals. Yet, Armenia is now set to hold up to a 49% stake in the project over time, while holding final authority on all security and customs through it. Facing toward Brussels, Yerevan has struck significant agreements to participate in the European Union’s Crisis Management Operations, an extension of the previous security and defense agreements with Brussels establishing the EU Monitoring Mission in Armenia. While this stops short of participating in military missions with the EU, largely due to constitutional regulations and CSTO obligations, Armenia has already participated in American-led trainings, a first of its kind for the country.

The Armenia that for 30 years had pieced together a strategy to maintain its existence is once again fighting for survival. The nation’s security apparatus is already undergoing a rupture, and it will totally change Armenia’s position in one way or another within the next 10 years. At a time in which Armenia has a historic opportunity to reevaluate its defense strategy, one has to critically evaluate what role defense modernization will play in this. If drones are the new linchpin of contemporary defense infrastructure, what role do they play for Armenia? And could the downstream impacts of indigenous drone development also change other interrelated aspects of Armenian security dilemmas? In this article, the research and first-hand experience in Armenia are meant to understand how a switch from a purely geopolitical dependence to a technological deterrence model of defense can impact Armenia’s security policy moving forward.

Armenia’s current security dilemma is the product of a strategic model that collapsed under the weight of geopolitical and technological change. Since its independence in 1991, Armenia has pursued a security strategy rooted in the external guarantees of the Russia-led Collective Security Treaty Organization (CSTO). This approach allowed Yerevan to compensate for limited economic resources and a constrained defense budget while maintaining a weak deterrence posture against Azerbaijan. Russian peacekeepers, joint military exercises, and access to Soviet-era equipment created the perception that Armenia’s territorial integrity could be preserved without significant domestic investment in military modernization. For much of the post-Soviet period, this model appeared sufficient. While tensions over Nagorno-Karabakh persisted, the balance of risk discouraged large-scale conflict.

However, this equilibrium masked deeper structural weaknesses. Endemic corruption, underinvestment in defense infrastructure, and reliance on aging military hardware limited Armenia’s capacity to adapt to emerging forms of warfare. At the same time, Azerbaijan leveraged its energy revenues to modernize its armed forces, investing heavily in advanced systems (UAVs too) that would later prove transformative on the battlefield. The 2020 Nagorno-Karabakh war exposed these asymmetries, but it was the events of 2023 that fundamentally shattered Armenia’s security paradigm. As Russia became increasingly consumed by its war in Ukraine, its ability and willingness to uphold its security commitments in the South Caucasus diminished. Azerbaijan capitalized on this shift, retaking the remaining territories of Nagorno-Karabakh with minimal external resistance. The rapid collapse of Armenian positions and the subsequent displacement of the region’s Armenian population underscored a stark reality: Armenia could no longer rely on external patrons as the cornerstone of its national defense.

When in Armenia, the overarching story of the Armenian people is one of maintaining their identity even as the empires around them competed for their land. Armenians have faced displacement from many actors, but of course the most notable one is under the later end of the Ottoman Empire when millions upon millions of Armenians were kept in internment camps and then murdered en masse. Up to 1.5 million Armenians were victims of these policies, and this has become a centerpiece of modern Armenian identity. The fight for survival and preservation is central, and Armenians have tried to do this in various ways they could. The Armenians in the U.S. and in France have set up powerful community advocacy centers and lobbies to promote recognition of the genocide and promote the interests of strengthening relations with Armenia and the outside world. After 1991, Armenians saw their close relationship with Russia preserve their nation in the face of neighboring Turkey and Azerbaijan. While Armenians also faced second-class citizen status and cultural suppression under the Russian empire and later the Soviet Union, Armenians on the Russian side (known as “East Armenia” in the grand historical sense), fared much better, as they at least maintained a cultural connection with Russians through Christianity. Add this on top of the deep political and economic ties many Armenians still have with Russia, and this forms the bulk of the pro-Russian narrative in the country. The structure of the Russian security umbrella starts to come under serious question when contemporary Armenians are now facing a new wave of ethnic cleansing by a nation that should’ve, and could’ve, been easily stopped by Russia with its sheer larger quantity of troops and equipment vis-a-vis Azerbaijan. Russia had prioritized its crusade against Ukraine over its treaty obligations to Armenia via the CSTO. This is now where the debate stands in Armenian society between pro-Russians, pro-Westerners, and everyone else in between.

In Armenia, conversations on geopolitics remained solidly in the “multi-vector” foreign policy box. Closer ties to the European Union were being pursued, but it hasn’t come across as a full ideological pursuit like in Georgia. In fact, contrary to Tbilisi, in and around Yerevan, you will rarely find a single EU or Ukraine flag or popular graffiti calling for the downfall of Russia. The Pashinyan government has stated its plans to bring Armenia closer to the European Union, but has stopped short of embracing a full endorsement for its membership in the union. From the conversations with local leaders, it seems this can be attributed to two main things; first off, Armenia is simply nowhere near ready for a serious discussion on EU membership. Armenia would need consistent year-after-year reforms in its public sector, anti-corruption legislation, infrastructure, entirely reverse its economic integration with the Eurasian Economic Union, withdraw from the CSTO and kick out the Russian military bases in the country. Second and deeply tied to the first reason, is that Armenians maintain close ties to Russia in ways that Georgians do not, making this transition difficult.

While Russia may no longer be Armenia’s main security partner, its economic and energy dependence makes most Armenians wary of severing those ties for a geopolitical turn that may or may not pay off after years of uncertainty and could risk a response from Russia akin to the 2008 Georgia war. As the looming shadow of Russia casted itself onto every conversation we had about security policy, and the balancing act the Pashinyan government seeks to sell to the electorate in the June 2026 elections, Armenia could use this new momentum and turning point in its security policy to invest in indigenous defense capabilities.

One policy area that Armenia can develop a lot quicker compared to the institutional capacity building necessary to join European institutions is in its defense procurement and cooperation. Armenia had previously relied on dated Soviet gear and mass purchases of heavy Russian machinery. This was partly due to its plans to protect against a ground invasion from an aggressor, but also because this was the type of equipment it was able to afford on its defense budget, one significantly smaller than what Azerbaijan could afford. As Azerbaijan gained the upper hand in rough terrain warfare as found in Artsakh/Nagorno Karabakh, Armenia soon realized much of its equipment was not suitable for this level of fighting and was comparatively outdated to the technology Azerbaijan could afford. As Armenia reels from that strategic mistake, the Pashinyan government has sought to open more defense partnerships with French defense firms and now even Indian firms. As of late 2025, the deal struck with India is worth roughly around 2.5 to 3 billion USD and reportedly consists of 8-12 Su-30MK1 aircraft, modified with Indian-sourced technology such as Uttam AESA radar and Astra MK1 and MK2 beyond-visual-range missiles, among other locally sourced modifications. Recent visits from PM Modi of India and partnerships signed with foreign firms have highlighted Armenia’s push to technologically upgrade its stockpile. Armenia still faces a significant investment gap in its defense compared to Azerbaijan. Azerbaijan spends roughly $3.7B on defense, while Armenia spends only around $1.5B, according to the Swedish think tank SIPRI. As such, it faces the need to develop asymmetric deterrence. In this scenario, drones may provide a substantial advantage for the nation’s unique geography and defense needs while equalizing the playing field with its neighbors, Turkey and Azerbaijan. Armenia may not be able to match Azerbaijan’s defense expenditure on a raw basis, but investing in the right technology for defense capacity often allows you to reach parity with your rival in a cost-effective manner.

There are four core reasons Armenian investment in indigenous drone capabilities with its European and Indian partners would be suitable for the nation. Local reports on Armenia’s lessons from its recent conflicts have stated that drones can provide the backbone of “network-centric defense” which is necessary for terrain defense especially in its southern mountainous Syunik and Gegharkunik regions. Runways are vulnerabilities in this terrain, and drones allow for vertical take-off and landing from almost anywhere and with a substantial cut in costs and logistics compared to launching missiles. In February 2026, Armenia recognized this practicality and acquired the American V-BAT that has these same capabilities.

Second reason, drones are increasingly integrating AI and cyber-hardened autonomy potential. In both the Russia-Ukraine war and the 2020 Nagorno-Karabakh war, electronic warfare jamming was a serious impediment to logistics, communications, and missile launches. Now, new technologies are rapidly developing in the drone industry that can significantly protect against electronic warfare. Several drone companies in Estonia and Ukraine are rolling out products with these capabilities in mind. ShieldAI has already integrated these capabilities in Ukrainian drones and in the V-BAT American drones purchased in February.

Third, drones can be easily integrated into the network air defense of a nation. Oftentimes, they are now able to provide much more rapid assessments of battlefield realities in real time back to the command center. Armenia can easily begin integrating them into its purchasing of French GM200 Radars and Indian ATAGS artillery. This can dramatically cut down the cost of firing artillery against a target. Instead of 20 artillery shells per one target, it can now be down to a precision of just one shell.

Lastly, Armenia has a strong IT and engineering talent pool to put forth on these projects. Like in Ukraine, this was part of a Soviet era legacy in teaching engineering skills to students. Now, Armenia is a regional leader in IT and computer services. Skills that are easily transferable and applicable to a defense industry that demands greater technological integration and security in its cyberspace and electronic warfare combat. Software-defined warfare could become a cornerstone of Armenian security policy in response to the physical mass of armament going on in its Turkic neighbors. If Armenia already has a knowledge advantage in this area, this won’t be so easily replicated by opponents. One of the newcomers to the scene from Armenia itself is the company Davaro, which is leading the charge on indigenous drone development systems for Armenia. In addition, if Armenia is purchasing weapons from multiple foreign partners, having a strong IT and engineering base can help Armenia establish interoperability between these systems. Without doing this, Armenia may risk a scenario akin to the 12-day war with Israel and Iran in which Iran’s air defense systems were rendered ineffective by the lack of connection between different systems that opened vulnerabilities to the Israeli air forces.

A rearmament and defense modernization plan for Armenia would encompass far more than just UAV technology. Armenia would need to sign stronger defense agreements to obtain real modern air defense capabilities. However, UAV technology could’ve been crucial to countering electronic warfare environments and tracing the pathways of oncoming enemy artillery that would’ve at least helped put up stronger resistance in the two wars fought over the disputed territories between Armenia and Azerbaijan. Investments into these new technologies can be seen as a big step in modernization efforts, a historic push for its IT and cyber knowledge base not seen since Soviet times, a testament to true “multi-vector” foreign policy that sidelines Russia, while also whetting the appetite for major business and anti-corruption reforms in the nation in order to increase attraction for foreign investment from defense firms. Within the grander defense strategy, Armenia could prove itself a regional example in small-state deterrence through contemporary UAV technology. When faced with a significant defense budget gap and a significant manpower gap, Armenia needs to leverage technology that can amplify the power of its military base and spare more Armenian citizens from targeting and slaughter in a crisis. UAVs are by no means a silver bullet for any defense strategy, but they are a novel way to tackle a series of interrelated issues that have held back Armenia in the past from an efficient deterrent strategy.