A trove of leaked corporate records has revealed that Belarus, despite being a formal military ally of Armenia through the Russian-led Collective Security Treaty Organization (CSTO), provided weapons systems to Azerbaijan that were later used to shoot down Armenian drones during the bloody 2020 Nagorno-Karabakh war. The revelations, published by the Organized Crime and Corruption Reporting Project (OCCRP) in collaboration with Hetq in Armenia and Buro Media, shed light on a secretive arms trade that not only deepens mistrust between Yerevan and Minsk but also underscores the fragility of alliances in the post-Soviet space.
The leaked documents come from Tetraedr, a Belarusian private arms manufacturer that has long been engaged in upgrading Soviet-era weaponry. According to one internal report, Azerbaijan deployed Pechora-2TM surface-to-air missile systems, modernized with Tetraedr’s assistance, to destroy at least 11 Armenian unmanned aerial vehicles during the six-week conflict in late 2020.
For Armenia, the findings are particularly galling. As a CSTO member alongside Russia, Belarus, Kazakhstan, Kyrgyzstan, and Tajikistan, Yerevan expected military solidarity, or at least neutrality, from its allies. Instead, evidence suggests one of them was directly arming its adversary.
Armenia’s Defense Ministry, citing secrecy laws, declined to comment on the reports. Azerbaijan’s Defense Ministry likewise did not respond to media inquiries. But the documents highlight the reality: Belarusian-made systems were on the battlefield and were credited with successes against Armenian forces.
The Nagorno-Karabakh conflict has simmered since the early 1990s, when ethnic Armenian forces backed by Yerevan seized control of the mountainous enclave located within Azerbaijan’s internationally recognized borders. For nearly three decades, the territory remained outside of Baku’s control, punctuated by periodic clashes.
In September 2020, Azerbaijan launched a major offensive, supported by advanced drones and artillery, reclaiming large swathes of Nagorno-Karabakh. By the war’s end, thousands were dead, and Armenia was forced into a Russian-brokered ceasefire. The shock of that defeat still reverberates in Yerevan, particularly after Azerbaijan’s September 2023 blitz offensive, which reclaimed the enclave entirely and triggered the exodus of more than 115,000 ethnic Armenians.
The role of Belarus in these events has been especially bitter for Armenia to accept. Belarusian President Alexander Lukashenko, instead of showing solidarity, publicly hailed Azerbaijan’s operation as a “war of liberation.” In response, Armenian Prime Minister Nikol Pashinyan declared that he would never set foot in Belarus so long as Lukashenko remained in power.
Beyond the betrayal, the leaked records expose the murky financial channels used in the deals. According to OCCRP, Tetraedr signed at least 16 contracts to provide weapons, repairs, and maintenance to Azerbaijan. Surprisingly, many of these contracts did not involve Azerbaijan’s Defense Ministry directly but were instead routed through a British Virgin Islands (BVI) intermediary company, N.P.O. Navigation Systems.
While not illegal, the use of offshore intermediaries is a common red flag in the global arms trade, often signaling attempts to conceal profits, evade scrutiny, or create opportunities for corruption.
“The more layers of secrecy and lack of transparency are introduced in arms trade, the bigger the opportunities are for corrupt officials to make a personal gain,” warned Pieter Wezeman, a senior arms-transfer researcher at the Stockholm International Peace Research Institute (SIPRI).
The ownership of N.P.O. Navigation Systems was deliberately obscured by offshore secrecy laws. However, leaked Pandora Papers records revealed that between 2006 and 2020, the company was linked to Azerbaijani businessmen Fuad Seyidaliyev andArif Rahimov, both of whom were tied to Azairtechservice, an Azerbaijani defense contractor that worked with Tetraedr. In 2020, control of the company briefly shifted to a representative close to them before being transferred to David Sutovsky, an Israeli citizen who had also served as company director.
None of the men responded to detailed questions. Seyidaliyev briefly denied involvement before hanging up on journalists.
The timing of the contracts raises further questions about political influence. In October 2017, after Azerbaijan’s Defense Minister Zakir Hasanov visited Minsk, Tetraedr signed deals worth more than $13 million for the support of Pechora-2TM systems. These agreements paved the way for Azerbaijan to have upgraded air defense capabilities, which, according to the leaked reports, were later put to use against Armenian forces.
That these deals coincided with high-level diplomatic visits suggests more than routine business – they reflect the strategic alignment of Belarus with Azerbaijan, even at the expense of CSTO obligations.
For Armenia, this episode illustrates the hollowness of CSTO commitments. Despite repeated requests for assistance – including during Azerbaijan’s 2020 and 2023 offensives – Yerevan found the alliance unwilling or unable to intervene. The revelation that Belarus not only stood aside but actively armed Azerbaijan sharpens Armenia’s sense of isolation.
This growing disillusionment has fueled discussions within Yerevan about distancing itself from Moscow and its allies, pivoting instead toward Western partnerships. While Armenia recently signed a US-brokered peaceagreement with Azerbaijan, the leaked records threaten to reignite tensions and deepen mistrust between Armenia and Belarus.
Ultimately, the scandal underscores how financial incentives in the arms trade often override principles of alliance or loyalty. For Belarus, selling weapons to Azerbaijan represented a lucrative opportunity – with contracts spanning over a decade and worth millions of dollars. For Azerbaijan, these deals provided critical upgrades that helped tilt the battlefield balance.
For Armenia, however, the revelation represents both a betrayal by a supposed ally and another stark reminder of its geopolitical vulnerability. In the words of one Armenian political analyst, “Belarus sold not just weapons, but Armenia’s trust in its allies.”
As post-Soviet states continue to navigate complex relationships between Moscow, the West, and each other, the Belarus-Azerbaijan arms deals expose the fragility of alliances built more on expediency than on solidarity. The CSTO, already weakened by Armenia’s criticism and Russia’s distractions in Ukraine, now faces a deeper credibility crisis.
For Yerevan, the lesson is bitter but clear: in this volatile region, alliances may be written on paper, but weapons contracts – even with supposed friends – are written in steel.