The Promise of the South Caucasus Platform
Can Armenia, Azerbaijan, and Georgia shape their future through trilateral diplomacy?
The South Caucasus, traditionally marked by geopolitical divergences and fractured regionalism, is beginning to show early signs of convergence. Where once Armenia, Azerbaijan, and Georgia followed distinctly separate foreign policy paths, recent developments suggest an emerging readiness, however tentative, to reimagine the region as a space for cooperative engagement rather than geopolitical fragmentation.
The three countries navigated their surroundings through different strategies for much of the post-Soviet period. Georgia was the most explicit in its alignment, firmly anchoring itself within Euro-Atlantic aspirations, seeking both NATO and EU membership. Azerbaijan, by contrast, maintained a dual discourse throughout the 1990s and 2000s. On one hand, it pursued a vision of integration into the transatlantic space, keeping the destination—whether the EU, NATO, or both—strategically vague. This often meant following Georgia’s trajectory from a step behind. On the other hand, Azerbaijan championed a “balanced foreign policy,” which sought to manage its challenging geography by carefully balancing between Russia and the West and between Iran and Türkiye. This duality allowed Baku to maintain flexibility and broaden its strategic relevance. A notable turning point came in 2011, when Azerbaijan declared a shift from a balanced to an “independent foreign policy.” This transition marked a deeper emphasis on national agency and strategic autonomy. It was a move away from navigating geopolitical pressures through external alignment, toward the active cultivation of Baku’s own international partnerships, on its own terms, thanks to the wealth it earned from the export of energy resources. Since then, Azerbaijan has defined its foreign policy by issue-based pragmatism, calibrated assertiveness, and a readiness to mediate and convene where regional architectures have faltered.
Armenia, for its part, remained deeply aligned with Russia throughout the 2000s and 2010s, relying on Moscow for security guarantees and geopolitical backing, particularly in the context of the unresolved Nagorno-Karabakh conflict. However, the aftermath of the 2020 war—and Russia’s subsequent ambivalence in the region—has prompted a visible shift. In recent years, Armenia has publicly declared the need to diversify its foreign policy, seeking new partnerships, especially with the West. Yet this ambition faces significant constraints: a military-security infrastructure deeply tied to Russia, economic dependencies, and the absence of normalised relations with Türkiye and Azerbaijan. For Armenia to fully realise its diversification strategy, it must first redefine its place in the region.
Georgia, long a committed Atlanticist, is itself in the midst of a subtle recalibration. While the country continues to prioritize its EU and NATO aspirations, Tbilisi has shown increasing interest in regional diplomacy. In a reversal of the post-Soviet trend where Azerbaijan followed Georgia’s Western path from a distance, it is now Georgia that seems to be taking cues from Azerbaijan’s strategic autonomy. This is most visible in Georgia’s efforts to build robust bilateral and trilateral ties in the region. Symbolically, Georgian prime ministers have traditionally conducted their first official visits to Baku after elections. This year, for the first time, Georgia’s president also made his first foreign visit to Azerbaijan, highlighting the growing strategic weight of Georgia-Azerbaijan relations and regional cooperation more broadly.
These recalibrations across the three countries converged into a significant moment in April 2025, when the deputy foreign ministers of Armenia, Azerbaijan, and Georgia met in Tbilisi for informal trilateral consultations. The historic meeting marked the first time the three South Caucasus states sat together without external intermediaries to discuss regional matters. While still informal and far from institutionalized, this embryonic trilateral dialogue could become the basis for a more structured “South Caucasus platform.”
Such a platform could, in turn, pave the way for a “3+1” model of engagement—where the three countries coordinate among themselves before engaging external actors on a case-by-case basis. This would differ fundamentally from the previously proposed “3+3” format, which aimed to bring together Armenia, Azerbaijan, and Georgia with Russia, Türkiye, and Iran. That initiative failed to take root, primarily due to Georgia’s refusal to participate in any forum involving Russia, whose military occupation of Abkhazia and South Ossetia remains a core obstacle to normalisation. Armenia also viewed the format with suspicion, concerned that it reinforced the dominance of regional authoritarian actors while excluding Western participation.
The “3+1” alternative—anchored in regional agency—would be more agile, more inclusive, and far more adaptable to a changing geopolitical landscape. Crucially, it would not exclude any actor by design but would allow the South Caucasus countries to engage with external partners, such as the EU, the US, Türkiye, Russia, Iran, or China, based on thematic priorities and geopolitical considerations. Such a model would restore a measure of sovereignty to regional decision-making while retaining the flexibility to cooperate globally.
The Central Asian experience provides a meaningful precedent. Since 2018, the region has hosted regular Consultative Summits among its five republics. These summits, which grew out of the “C5+1” initiative with the United States in 2016, have now evolved into a full-fledged ecosystem of multi-vector diplomacy. Central Asia has engaged external actors—including the EU, China, Russia, India, and even Italy—through various “5+1” formats. These arrangements have enhanced regional coherence while offering a controlled, strategic platform for global cooperation.
A similar evolution is within reach for the South Caucasus—especially if a peace agreement between Armenia and Azerbaijan can be reached. The ongoing negotiations, while fragile, have laid the groundwork for deeper normalisation. A peace treaty could be complemented by a Good Neighbourliness Agreement among the three South Caucasus states, including provisions for non-aggression, diplomatic consultations, and regional economic cooperation. For Armenia, such an agreement could offer a regional security framework to fill the vacuum left by its waning reliance on Russia. For Azerbaijan and Georgia, it would further consolidate the strategic architecture of the region, allowing for broader external engagements with greater internal cohesion.
Above all, Türkiye stands to gain from such a development. Ankara already enjoys a robust trilateral framework with Georgia and Azerbaijan, involving regular consultations at the foreign and defence ministerial level. For more than a decade, the three countries have conducted joint military drills, developed interoperability, and strengthened infrastructure connectivity. After a brief lull, Georgia-Azerbaijan relations are regaining momentum symbolically through high-level visits and substantively through energy, transport, and security coordination. Türkiye, by virtue of its existing regional ties and strategic geography, would be well-positioned to engage the emerging “3” in a future “3+1” format—cementing its role as both a regional stakeholder and an external guarantor.
This emerging structure should also be understood within the context of a broader trend: the rise of what can be described as a Regional Multi-Alignment Complex (RMC). As global multipolarity deepens and great power competition intensifies, smaller states are moving away from rigid alliance blocs toward more fluid and modular forms of cooperation. These include regional organisations, thematic coalitions, informal minilateral arrangements, and issue-specific partnerships. Central Asia exemplifies this trend. So does Southeast Asia. The South Caucasus, long seen as a theatre for zero-sum rivalries, may now be positioning itself to join this complex.
The RMC is not a retreat into isolationism nor an evasion of global responsibility. Rather, it is a strategic response to structural vulnerability—a method for small and mid-sized states to maintain agency, assert interests, and extract value in a volatile international environment. For the South Caucasus, joining the RMC through a regional platform would mean asserting a new role: not as a passive periphery, but as an active player able to navigate, rather than merely endure, global transitions.
The road ahead will not be easy. The shadows of unresolved conflicts, historical trauma, and geopolitical competition remain long. Yet the informal trilateral meeting in Tbilisi could, in hindsight, mark a quiet turning point. The emergence of a “3+1” format is still a possibility, not a reality. But the potential is real, and the incentives are aligning. With sustained effort, thoughtful diplomacy, and careful timing, the South Caucasus could become a case not of endless conflict, but of strategic reinvention.