There are geographical borders that exist on maps but are barely felt in history.

For a long time, the Caspian Sea was precisely such a border.

Today, Azerbaijan lies on its western shore, while Kazakhstan and Turkmenistan are situated on its eastern coast. Beyond them lie the territories of Uzbekistan, Kyrgyzstan, and Tajikistan: steppes, deserts, and mountain systems commonly grouped under the term “Central Asia.” In modern political geography, Azerbaijan is considered part of the South Caucasus, while the five states on the other side of the sea are treated as a separate region. Textbooks, international organizations, and diplomatic classifications draw a boundary between them. History, however, viewed this space differently.

For merchants, travelers, and rulers of earlier eras, the Caspian Sea was not a line beyond which one region ended and another began. It was part of a route. Trade connections ran along its shores; goods and people moved across them; technologies, languages, and cultural influences spread through the region. The cities of Central Asia were connected with the Caucasus not by a common administrative border, but by a network of routes that had developed over centuries.

Therefore, Azerbaijan’s inclusion in the consultative meeting format of the Central Asian states and the transformation of C5 into C6 should be viewed not merely as an expansion of a diplomatic platform. Formally, one additional state joined the five existing participants. But the political significance of this decision goes far beyond simple arithmetic.

For the first time, the Central Asian states are participating in a common regional format with a country located on the western shore of the Caspian Sea and connected through the South Caucasus to Türkiye and European markets. As a result, it is not only the composition of the format that is changing; the very geography of cooperation is expanding. The Caspian Sea, long perceived as a boundary between two regions, is gradually returning to its historical role — a space of connection.

The road that was not on the map

When people speak of the Silk Road, it is often imagined as a single long road connecting China with Europe. In reality, no such single route existed.

The Silk Road was a network. Caravans chose different routes depending on the season, political circumstances, security conditions, and demand for particular goods. They passed through cities, changed guides, crossed mountain passes, reached river crossings and maritime ports. Goods rarely traveled the entire distance with a single merchant: they changed hands repeatedly, and along with them moved knowledge, technologies, and ideas about the world.

Central Asia stood at the heart of this network. Samarkand, Bukhara, Merv, Urgench, and other cities were not merely stopping points between East and West. They were themselves major centers of trade, craftsmanship, education, and political life. Here, the interests of China, Persia, India, the Arab world, and the states of the steppe converged.

Azerbaijan occupied a different, but no less important, position within this system. Routes connecting the Caspian Sea with the Caucasus, Anatolia, and the Black Sea region passed through its territory. Baku was not simply a city on the shore. Its geographical position enabled it to connect maritime routes with overland roads leading west and south. This is precisely why the Caspian did not historically divide this space. It connected its shores.

For a merchant arriving from the eastern coast, the sea did not mark the end of the journey. It was simply one part of it. After crossing the Caspian, the road continued through the Caucasus and then led toward new markets and cities. This connection endured for centuries, even as states, rulers, and borders changed.

Then came the age of empires, and roads began to serve a new function. They were built not only for trade, but also for governing territories. Railways connected remote regions with political centers, while transportation routes increasingly became part of administrative systems.

During the Soviet period, Azerbaijan and the states of Central Asia existed within a single state. They were connected by a common economic system, energy infrastructure, and transportation networks. Yet many of these economic links were organized primarily vertically: key decisions were made at the Union center, while routes were often designed according to the needs of the overall system rather than direct interaction among the republics themselves.

After the collapse of the Soviet Union in 1991, this infrastructure logic changed faster than new mechanisms of cooperation could emerge. Internal administrative borders became international borders. Old routes became cross-border corridors. Customs procedures, new regulations, and state restrictions appeared along the roads. Each country had to independently develop its foreign policy, seek markets, and build its own transportation connections.

Central Asia once again found itself deep within the Eurasian landmass, while Azerbaijan remained on the western shore of the Caspian. The sea that had served for centuries as part of a common route was increasingly perceived as a boundary between two political spaces.

A geography that cannot be abolished

Over three decades of independence, the Central Asian states have significantly strengthened their political institutions and national economies. The region possesses large energy reserves, substantial mineral resources, developing industries, and a growing population. Yet there is one circumstance that cannot be changed by political decision: Central Asia has no direct access to the world’s oceans.

For states located deep within Eurasia, access to external markets has always depended on transportation routes crossing neighboring countries. Economic geography becomes part of foreign policy: the territory through which roads pass affects not only transportation costs, but also the resilience of trade links.

For a long time, the region’s main transportation infrastructure was oriented toward the north. Eastern routes connected Central Asia with China. Southern routes opened opportunities through Iran and South Asia, although their development faced political and infrastructural constraints.

Each of these directions remains important. However, the modern economy is becoming less dependent on any single route. Recent experience has shown that a trading system relying on only one direction becomes vulnerable to political crises, sanctions, conflicts, and logistical disruptions.

Therefore, developing new routes does not mean abandoning existing ones. It creates additional opportunities. The more reliable gateways a region has to global markets, the greater its economic resilience and the greater its ability to determine the terms of cooperation independently. This is where Azerbaijan’s role acquires a new significance.

Through the Caspian Sea, Central Asia gains a connection to the South Caucasus, while the South Caucasus provides access to Türkiye. From there, the transportation network extends toward the Mediterranean, the Black Sea, and European markets. Azerbaijan therefore becomes more than an additional participant in a regional format: it connects the Central Asian space with the western direction of Eurasia.

From caravan to container

The central question facing merchants a thousand years ago remains relevant today: how can goods be delivered from the heart of Eurasia to external markets faster, more safely, and at lower cost?

The means have changed. Caravan routes have been replaced by railways, modern ports have taken the place of old harbors, containers have replaced bales of silk and caravan cargo, while digital systems are gradually replacing paper documents and traditional trade seals.

But the underlying logic of the road remains the same. A route is valuable not merely because of its length. Its significance is determined by delivery time, transportation costs, and reliability.

It is not enough to build a railway if trains spend weeks waiting to cross a border. It is not enough to expand a port if cargo is delayed during transshipment. It is not enough to sign an international agreement if carriers face different tariffs and uncoordinated procedures.

This is why the political expansion of the C5 format into C6 matters only as a starting point. Its long-term value will depend on whether cooperation can move beyond declarations toward joint solutions. This requires harmonizing transportation regulations, reducing bureaucratic barriers, developing port infrastructure, and creating integrated digital mechanisms for cargo tracking and processing.

At this level, a diplomatic agreement becomes an economic reality. The Middle Corridor already provides a foundation for such connectivity. But its future depends not only on the length of railway lines. It depends on how coherently the states along the route are able to operate together.

Azerbaijan as the Western shore

Azerbaijan’s accession to C6 became possible not only because of its political relations with the Central Asian states. Over recent decades, the country has consistently developed infrastructure connecting the Caspian with western destinations. Ports, railways, highways, and energy projects were established long before the emergence of the new format. Today, however, they are acquiring additional regional significance.

Infrastructure rarely emerges simultaneously with political institutions. Often, the road comes before the agreement. Economic ties develop before common institutions. Political formats then formalize relationships that have already taken shape in practice.

In this sense, C6 does not create interaction between Azerbaijan and Central Asia from scratch. Rather, it gives a common political framework to cooperation that has already been developing in energy, transportation, trade, culture, and interstate dialogue.

For the Central Asian states, Azerbaijan becomes an additional gateway to the West. For Azerbaijan, Central Asia provides a deeper connection to Eurasia: to large markets, growing populations, resources, and transportation routes. This relationship works in both directions.

That is precisely why it would be incorrect to view Azerbaijan merely as a transit territory. Transit connects points on a map, whereas regional cooperation creates shared interests between them.

A space between major powers

Today, almost all major international players are showing growing interest in Central Asia. China views the region as an important destination for trade, energy cooperation, and infrastructure development. Russia retains deep historical, economic, and humanitarian ties. European states are seeking new transportation routes, energy sources, and access to strategic resources. Türkiye is expanding political, economic, and cultural cooperation with the countries of the region. The Gulf states, India, and other actors in the international system are also increasing their attention to Central Asia.

Each external partner offers its own vision of the region. For some, Central Asia is a transportation bridge between China and Europe; for others, it is a source of energy and strategic raw materials; for still others, it is a space of security and political influence.

Yet the states of the region have interests of their own, and these do not always coincide with external perceptions.

C6 can become a mechanism through which a common regional agenda is developed: not choosing between East and West, not replacing one dependency with another, but developing multiple directions simultaneously while preserving the ability to make independent choices.

This is what strategic autonomy should mean. It does not mean isolation. It means the ability to cooperate with different centers of power without granting any one of them the right to determine the future of the region.

A format that ıs not directed against anyone

The emergence of new regional groupings is often explained through the lens of rivalry. Yet such an approach can distort the meaning of what is taking place. Regional cooperation does not necessarily emerge against an external state. It can arise from a desire to strengthen resilience, expand economic opportunities, and coordinate shared interests.

C6 does not cancel the existing relations of the Central Asian states with Russia, China, Europe, or other partners. Nor does it require Azerbaijan to abandon its multi-vector foreign policy.

The meaning of the format lies elsewhere. If, in the past, the states of the region more often dealt with major external centers individually, they now have an additional opportunity to discuss common issues among themselves.

This changes the political logic itself: a joint position can strengthen negotiating capacity, common infrastructure projects can reduce development costs, and harmonized rules can make the region more attractive to investors.

From a format to a common space

The C6 format brings together six states that differ considerably in territory, population, economic structure, resource potential, and foreign-policy priorities.

Kazakhstan has the largest territory in the region and substantial natural-resource reserves. Uzbekistan is the most populous state in Central Asia and has a large domestic market. Turkmenistan possesses some of the world’s most significant natural-gas reserves. Kyrgyzstan and Tajikistan possess important water and hydropower resources of strategic significance for the entire region. Azerbaijan, in turn, occupies a distinctive position, connecting the Caspian space with the South Caucasus and western transportation routes.

At first glance, such diversity may complicate the formation of a common agenda. Different economic models and national priorities inevitably create distinct interests and constraints.

Yet these differences can become not an obstacle, but a foundation for mutual complementarity.

Regional cooperation does not require states to be identical or to possess comparable capabilities. Its sustainability depends on the ability to combine different advantages into a single system in which the strengths of one country complement the capabilities of another.

Within such a system, one state may provide the resource base, another may develop manufacturing and processing, a third may build transportation infrastructure, a fourth may provide access to external markets, a fifth may strengthen energy connections, while a sixth may link several geographical and economic directions.

The result is not a uniform space, but a system of interdependence. This is precisely what can give a regional format long-term sustainability, because cooperation begins to rest not only on political declarations, but also on the practical interest of states in one another.

At the same time, geography becomes crucial. Central Asia has traditionally been described as a region without access to the sea. Geographically, this remains true: the states of the region have no direct access to the world’s oceans. Yet under modern political and economic conditions, this characterization is becoming increasingly incomplete.

Central Asia has no access to the ocean, but it does have access to the Caspian Sea. And beyond the Caspian lies Azerbaijan — a state connecting the region with the South Caucasus, Türkiye, European markets, and broader international transportation networks.

The Caspian window

From this perspective, the Caspian Sea can be viewed not only as a natural boundary separating two geographical spaces, but also as a window opening new opportunities for regional connectivity. Perhaps this is one of the most important meanings of the C6 format.

It does not abolish geography or erase existing distances. The Caspian does not become smaller, nor do the mountains move closer to the ports. What changes is the way geographical position is used.

States are beginning to perceive existing connections not as a collection of separate national routes, but as the foundation for creating a common space of opportunities.

Historically, the Caspian Sea and the trade routes crossing it already performed a unifying function. Caravans connected cities and markets long before the emergence of modern state borders, while trade developed without a single political center.

Today, independent states are attempting to create a more complex system of connectivity: linking transportation infrastructure, energy networks, trade routes, and economic interests while preserving their own sovereignty.

Such a process is considerably more difficult than building a single railway or opening a new transportation route. It requires coordination of national strategies, compatible infrastructure solutions, long-term political trust, and a willingness to take partners’ interests into account.

Yet this is precisely why the result can be more sustainable. If connectivity is built not around a single project, but around a system of mutually complementary interests, regional cooperation can remain resilient even as the external political and economic environment changes.

Six countries on one historical map

History rarely moves in a straight line. Sometimes it returns to old routes, but travels along them using new technologies, new economic opportunities, and new political objectives. The caravan becomes a container train, the old harbor becomes a modern port, and the trade route becomes an international transportation corridor. The sea that connected different shores for centuries once again becomes part of a common road.

The C6 format is still too young to speak of its definitive success or of a fully established regional architecture. It still has to prove that cooperation can move beyond political statements and create sustainable mechanisms for practical interaction.

The format must move from leaders’ meetings toward permanent coordination mechanisms, from common intentions toward coordinated decisions, and from infrastructure plans toward the actual movement of goods, investment, technology, and people. Yet even today, the key transformation is already visible.

Azerbaijan’s participation in C6 is not an accidental geographical addition to an existing format. It expands the space of regional cooperation, connecting the two shores of the Caspian and opening additional opportunities for Central Asia to interact with the South Caucasus, Türkiye, and Europe.

At the same time, Azerbaijan gains an opportunity to play a more active role in shaping the common regional agenda and strengthening its ties with the Central Asian states.

Central Asia is not becoming part of the South Caucasus, nor is the South Caucasus becoming part of Central Asia.

What is emerging is neither a new homogeneous space nor a supranational union, but a more complex system of shared interests, connectivity, and political interaction.

This intermediate model may become one of the defining features of C6: states retain their own identities and sovereignty while simultaneously beginning to view the development of neighboring countries as part of their own long-term interests.

And if this process receives economic and institutional follow-through, historians may one day say not simply that C5 became C6. They may say that, at a certain point, the Caspian Sea ceased to be a border. It became a road again.