Disarming the Rubber Stamp: Armenia’s Extra Mile for Turkey’s Territorial Integrity

[Davit Khachatyan is an international lawyer and lecturer, teaching international law, arbitration, and investment law at the Russian-Armenian University and the American University of Armenia]

Armenia’s national symbols have long included Mount Ararat, a symbol of cultural and historical significance to Armenians, despite lying just across the border in Turkey. Ararat appears at the center of Armenia’s coat of arms and even adorns passport entry/exit stamps at border crossings. In September 2025, however, the Armenian government decided to remove the Ararat silhouette from its border stamps as a symbolic gesture amid a normalization push with Turkey. This move, effective 1 November 2025, has sparked debate over whether such symbolic depictions could be misconstrued as a territorial claim against Turkey. Armenia’s leaders defended the change as aligning with a “Real Armenia” policy of focusing on current borders and avoiding “dangerous messages” to neighbors. Critics, however, lamented the removal of a cherished national icon under perceived pressure from Turkey. 

The issue raises important legal questions: Do symbolic representations like maps or emblems amount to territorial claims under international law? What is the threshold for a “territorial claim,” especially vis-à-vis the UN Charter’s principle of territorial integrity? And by the same logic, could other symbols, for example, Russia’s double-headed eagle (a Byzantine emblem tied to lands now in Turkey), be interpreted as asserting territorial ambitions? 

International Law Dimension

Under international law, a territorial claim typically refers to an assertion of sovereignty over a specific territory. Such claims are often expressed through declarations, legal acts, or diplomatic statements, and frequently form the basis of territorial disputes. Crucially, the UN Charter obliges states to respect each other’s territorial integrity. Article 2(4) of the Charter prohibits “the threat or use of force” against the territorial integrity or political independence of any state. However, it is important to distinguish between a symbolic or historical reference to territory and an actual legal claim or use of force. In the absence of any active assertion of sovereignty or attempt to enforce a change in status, symbolic representations usually fall short of the threshold of a “territorial claim” as understood in international law.

Nevertheless, the perception of a territorial claim can theoretically arise even without an explicit legal claim, often due to historical grievances or irredentist sentiments. In such cases, context matters. In the Armenian-Turkish context, the legacy of the 1915 genocide and the concept of “Western Armenia” in Armenian historical memory have led Turkish analysts to view Armenian references to Ararat or the genocide as indicating the border is “contested.” 

International jurisprudence supports the view that maps, emblems, or other symbols are not in themselves proof of legal title to territory. The International Court of Justice (ICJ) has addressed the evidentiary value of maps and similar representations in several cases, making it clear that while such materials can provide historical or contextual information, they do not amount to sovereign claims. In the landmark Frontier Dispute (Burkina Faso/ Mali) case (1986), the ICJ stated a general principle:

“Whether in frontier delimitations or in international territorial conflicts, maps merely constitute information which varies in accuracy from case to case; of themselves, and by virtue solely of their existence, they cannot constitute a territorial title, that is, a document endowed by international law with intrinsic legal force for the purpose of establishing territorial rights.”

para. 53

The Court went on to explain that maps or illustrations might acquire legal force only if they are incorporated into an official agreement or expressly accepted by the parties as defining a boundary. Otherwise, they remain extrinsic evidence, potentially useful to corroborate a claim, but never a claim in and of themselves. This principle was later reaffirmed in the Kasikili/Sedudu Island (Botswana/Namibia) judgment. The ICJ in that case expressly quoted the Burkina/Mali dictum, emphasizing again that a map’s existence alone has no intrinsic legal force unless it reflects the will of the state(s) concerned (paras 84-86). 

A coat of arms or stamp design featuring a landmark located in another state is a unilateral representation devoid of legal effect unless tied to a formal claim. As long as Armenia’s use of Mount Ararat’s image is not accompanied by any official assertion that the territory belongs to Armenia, it remains a cultural-historical reference. A long line of Armenia’s top officials have consistently and explicitly affirmed that Armenia has no territorial claims against Turkey, and that normalization rests on mutual sovereignty and territorial integrity (see here, here, and here). Former President Serzh Sargsyan of Armenia once addressed this directly, emphasizing that no representative of Armenia has ever made territorial demands on Turkey. Thus, the legal position has been that no claim exists. Regardless, over-cautions, Prime Minister Nikol Pashinyan put it, Armenia must avoid provoking its surroundings with references that neighbors perceive as challenges to their territorial integrity.

Diplomatic Context

Why, then, did Armenia remove Mount Ararat from its border stamps in 2025? The decision is a diplomatic gesture rather than a response to any legal obligation. Legally, Armenia is not compelled to drop the Ararat image. However, diplomatically and politically, Yerevan sought to eliminate possible points of contention in its relations with Turkey. There is no bilateral border treaty between the Republic of Armenia and the Republic of Turkey; Ankara treats the 1921 Treaty of Kars, concluded with Soviet Armenia, as the governing instrument and has sought an explicit, contemporary affirmation from Yerevan that it accepts the existing frontier. Pashinyan’s administration has moved in this direction as part of a “pragmatic” normalization strategy. Pashinyan and allies argued that national symbols should avoid implying “your neighbor does not deserve to have what he has.” Officials like Artur Hovhannisyan (the ruling party’s secretary) acknowledged that removing Ararat was partly meant to avert “sending ‘dangerous messages’ to neighboring countries.” 

This move has domestic critics fuming about erasing heritage under external pressure. Indeed, Turkish media characterized it as a positive gesture aligned with normalization, and officials described Armenia-Turkey talks as constructive, explicitly pointing to the stamp decision as a sign of goodwill (here, here).

Double-Headed Eagle 

A comparative example is the coat of arms of the Russian Federation, which features the double-headed eagle. This emblem originated as a symbol of the Byzantine Empire, whose territory once spanned much of what is now Turkey. Tsarist Russia adopted the double-headed eagle in the 15th century to signify Moscow’s claim to be the “Third Rome,” inheriting the legacy of Byzantium. Today, the eagle remains Russia’s national emblem, but does anyone view it as a territorial claim against Turkey? By the logic that troubled Turkey regarding Mount Ararat, one might ask if the Russian coat of arms sends a “dangerous message” of longing for former Byzantine (i.e., mostly Turkish) lands. In practice, however, there have been no known diplomatic protests by Turkey regarding the Russian (or, for that matter, Serbian) use of the double-headed eagle, even though those countries’ symbols hark back to empires that included Turkish lands. This suggests that Turkey recognizes the difference between symbolic heritage and actual territorial irredentism. It also underscores a degree of selectivity. Turkey was far more sensitive to Armenia’s Ararat imagery because of the specific Armenian historical narrative of loss of homeland and the unresolved historical trauma between those nations. 

Conclusion

Ararat on a stamp was never a territorial claim. International law is clear: Article 2(4) polices threats and uses of force; the ICJ treats maps and emblems as, at most, evidence, not title. Symbols do not redraw borders; conduct does.

What the stamp debate actually exposes is scale. Ararat is not a niche motif you can swap out once and be done. It sits on the state coat of arms; on banknotes and coins (past issues); in Yerevan’s civic imagery; on national brands (from brandy to banks); in football crests; on charity mastheads, tourism brochures, toy boxes, and airport souvenirs. Purging it from one artifact pushes the question down the line: what’s next, the coat of arms, city seals, product labels, freedom of speech? You are no longer managing risk but attempting to edit a national motif out of ordinary life.

Two facts should anchor policy. Anyone who has been in the Ararat Valley, a broad sweep of Armenia along the Turkish border where Yerevan sits, knows that on a clear day the mountain dominates the skyline. It is therefore predictable, not provocative, that Ararat appears in the collective imagination. Set against the genocide of Armenians in the Ottoman Empire, Ararat also functions as remembrance, not a present intention to revise borders. Second, Turkey’s territorial integrity is secure in law and fact; it is not affected by a silhouette on paper. If reassurance is needed, state it plainly: Armenia has no claims on Turkey. That is cheaper and sounder than chasing symbols.

So the sensible line is this: keep the law tight and the culture honest. Borders are protected by treaties, practice, and restraint, not by bleaching labels. If the worry is perception, issue a clarification, don’t launch a purge. Short of building a wall high enough to hide a mountain, a ridiculous thought experiment that proves the point, Ararat will remain visible. And visibility is not irredentism.