AZE.US
The 40-day war around Iran may be over, but for Azerbaijan this is no moment for complacency.
The biggest mistake in situations like this is to assume too early that the worst is already behind us. Yes, Baku managed to preserve its neutrality, avoided being dragged into someone else’s war, and showed a more disciplined diplomatic line than many expected. But neutrality does not cancel geography. And geography has not changed: Iran was, is, and will remain Azerbaijan’s southern neighbor, a country whose internal trajectory matters enormously for Baku.
This war exposed two realities at once. First, Baku proved it can absorb pressure both politically and diplomatically. Second, even the most cautious line offers no full protection when a major regional conflict is unfolding next door. Azerbaijan did not join the war, did not open any front against Iran, and did not allow its territory to become a platform for someone else’s operation. Yet strikes on Nakhchivan, the wounded, and the summoning of Iran’s ambassador to the Foreign Ministry served as a cold reminder that danger can reach even those who never intended to become a party to the conflict.
Against that backdrop, Baku acted with notable restraint. Azerbaijan did not answer accusations from Iranian circles with hysteria, did not shift into the language of threats, and did not destroy channels of communication even at the peak of the tension. On the contrary, President Ilham Aliyev visited the Iranian embassy in Baku to offer condolences, and later the atmosphere began to ease after high-level contacts. At the same time, Azerbaijan allowed humanitarian aid to pass through its territory and sent assistance to Iran itself. That was not sentimentality. It was a calculated message: Baku was signaling that it had no interest in Iran’s destabilization and did not want the war to harden into a lasting feud.
And this is where the real question begins. The war changed not only the atmosphere in Iran, but also the balance inside the Iranian system. Some figures associated with a hard line toward Azerbaijan no longer hold their former place. But that does not mean Baku is entering a more comfortable phase. Quite the opposite: real power in Iran has shifted even more heavily toward the IRGC, and there is little basis for assuming that this automatically makes Tehran easier for Azerbaijan to deal with.
That is why it would be a mistake to look at post-war Iran with too much optimism. A weakened state does not necessarily become softer. More often, it becomes more anxious, more suspicious, and more rigid. That is especially true of a system that has just gone through a major war, internal blows to its elite structure, and a difficult struggle over who now sets the tone. For Azerbaijan, the implication is straightforward: some old risks may have weakened, but new ones are emerging in their place – less visible, and therefore potentially more dangerous.
Before the war, the problem was at least more readable. Baku could see where the pressure was coming from, which circles in Iran were fueling suspicion, anti-Israeli rhetoric, and by extension anti-Azerbaijani narratives, and who was consistently betting on confrontation. Now that old configuration has been partly broken, but the new one has not yet fully taken shape. In geopolitics, uncertainty is often more dangerous than open hostility. When the other side is clearly defined, its logic is easier to understand. When the system in front of you is wounded and regrouping, the risk of miscalculation rises.
Against this background, Azerbaijan has done nearly everything a responsible neighbor could do. Baku did not exploit Iran’s weakness, did not escalate, and did not give in to the temptation of geopolitical revenge. More importantly, Azerbaijan showed that its relations with Israel do not amount to an automatic anti-Iranian posture. During the war, that mattered not only externally but also for audiences inside Iran, where Azerbaijan has long been portrayed by some as a hostile project. Baku’s conduct weakened that narrative.
Still, the main question remains unanswered: will this be understood in Tehran? There is no clear answer yet. One can hope that post-war Iran will move toward greater pragmatism and less reflexive aggression toward its neighbors. But treating that as a given would be naive, especially in a state where foreign policy is shaped not only by rational interests, but also by ideology, internal factional struggle, and fear of political autonomy beyond its borders.
There is also an economic angle, and it offers little reason for comfort. Yes, the war pushed oil prices higher and brought Azerbaijan additional revenue. Azerbaijani oil rose above $145 per barrel. But this is exactly the kind of moment when strong numbers on the commodity market do not necessarily translate into good news for the country as a whole. Higher oil prices came together with broader crisis conditions, pressure on logistics routes, and rising prices for goods. A geopolitical fire may temporarily fill the budget, but it rarely creates a stable environment for development.
That is why Baku’s priority now should be to avoid self-deception. Azerbaijan did come through this period with discipline. It showed that it can remain composed while others lose control. It proved that it can defend its interests without burning bridges. But none of that means the southern direction has become safer.
If anything, Iran may become an even more complicated neighbor for Azerbaijan after the war – not necessarily because Tehran will choose a new confrontation, but because it may not yet have decided what kind of state it will be after surviving this one.
And that is often when the most difficult period begins: when the shooting has stopped, but the real uncertainty is only starting.