Since December 2024, more than 249 Syrians have been killed and at least 379 injured by land mines and explosive remnants of war, including 60 children, according to the International NGO Safety Organisation (INSO). As displaced families return home, they step into fields and neighbourhoods seeded with death.
Vast regions remain contaminated—particularly in frontline provinces like Idlib. In many areas, mines lie in plain sight. In others, they’re buried deep, invisible without specialized equipment. “It will take ages to clear them all,” said Ahmad Jomaa, a local de-miner who has lost colleagues and friends to the dangerous task of clearing mines without proper tools.
A Generation Maimed: The Human Cost of Contaminated Land
Suleiman Khalil, a 21-year-old from the rural village of Qaminas in Idlib province, was harvesting olives with friends when he stepped on a land mine that blew off his right leg and severely injured the other. As he crawled away, a second mine exploded. His friends had run for help, but in those first terrifying minutes, Suleiman believed he had been abandoned to die.
His story is tragically common. Land mines do not discriminate between soldiers and civilians, men and women, adults and children. In the first four months after Assad’s ouster, at least 249 civilians have been killed—including 60 children—and 379 injured, according to the International NGO Safety Organisation (INSO). These numbers are expected to climb as more people return to areas previously inaccessible due to the conflict.
In the absence of wide-scale mine clearance, civilians are left to navigate this threat alone. In farming communities across rural Idlib, Hama, Daraa, and Deir ez-Zor, land mines have turned routine tasks—such as tilling soil, tending animals, or playing outdoors—into deadly gambles.
Rural Communities at Highest Risk
Syria’s agricultural heartlands were among the most militarized zones during the war. Farmlands were littered with anti-personnel and anti-vehicle mines, booby-trapped with IEDs, or shelled with mortars that failed to explode. The result: swathes of land are now too dangerous to farm, while families trying to reclaim their livelihoods are being maimed and killed.
In post-war Syria, more than 60% of the population depends on agriculture. But fields are now killing fields, particularly in areas like Idlib, where mine-clearing teams are severely underfunded and overwhelmed.
Shepherds, farmers, children, and returning families are stepping on mines buried beneath olive trees, grazing paths, irrigation ditches, and even roads. In one incident, a tractor exploded, injuring several farm workers. In another, a child collecting firewood was blown apart by a device disguised to look like a rock.
The long-term effect is devastating. Families lose breadwinners. Children lose limbs. Entire communities lose access to food and income, further deepening the cycle of poverty.
Demining: Heroic Work with Deadly Costs
Efforts to clear Syria’s land mines have been painstaking, dangerous, and grossly under-resourced. With no centralized national authority and limited international support, demining often falls to undertrained local volunteers, many of whom are former soldiers or engineers.
Mohammad Sweid, a 39-year-old former Syrian Republican Guard turned opposition deminer, died in January while attempting to defuse a mine in a village in Idlib. The mine detonated beneath his hands. He had been volunteering his time, often working without proper equipment, in response to desperate requests from local families.
His story reflects the fate of many unsung heroes in post-war Syria. At least a dozen deminers have been killed and 15 to 20 have lost limbs, according to local sources. Without proper funding, equipment like ground-penetrating radar, blast-proof suits, and mechanical clearance vehicles remain out of reach.
Meanwhile, advanced and improvised mines—many of them booby-trapped or rigged to explode upon removal—make the job even more lethal.
Psychological Trauma and Intergenerational Harm
Beyond the physical injuries, land mines inflict deep psychological wounds. Survivors like Suleiman report chronic depression, suicidal thoughts, and post-traumatic stress. Children orphaned or maimed by explosions often require long-term mental health support—something scarcely available in war-torn regions.
Families displaced by mine contamination face a cruel dilemma: return to their ancestral homes and risk death, or remain in overcrowded displacement camps with no income and little aid.
Disability in Syria today is not just a medical condition—it’s a poverty trap. The cost of a prosthetic limb in Syria exceeds $3,000, well beyond the reach of most families. Survivors often wait months or years for support, and many never receive it. Public infrastructure for the disabled is virtually nonexistent.
Mine contamination also has cascading effects: it prevents access to schools, hospitals, roads, and markets. This further isolates vulnerable communities and delays Syria’s already fragile recovery.
A Call to Action: The Urgent Need for International Intervention
Human Rights Watch and other international organizations have called for urgent action, including:
The creation of a civilian-led national mine action authority, ideally coordinated with UNMAS (United Nations Mine Action Service).
Increased international funding for demining operations and survivor support services.
Expansion of psychosocial care, prosthetics, and rehabilitation programs for victims.
Nationwide risk education campaigns to raise awareness among returnees and children.
Despite the chaos, there is hope. Small teams of engineers are risking their lives every day to save others. Survivors like Suleiman continue to dream of recovery, work, and family life. But they cannot do it alone.
Refeeding Syndrome represents one of the most silent yet preventable causes of mortality in famine-stricken populations. In Gaza, where prolonged starvation now coexists with the collapse of clinical infrastructure, the conditions for a widespread metabolic disaster are already present. As humanitarian agencies scale up food distribution to avert famine-related deaths, they must also confront the reality that without integrated medical oversight, this well-intentioned aid risks accelerating the physiological decline of those it seeks to save.
Children, pregnant women, and chronically ill adults—already fragile from months of deprivation—require a highly specific form of care: gradual nutritional rehabilitation, supported by targeted electrolyte repletion and thiamine supplementation. This is not optional, nor is it complex. It is a matter of deploying established protocols, disseminating essential knowledge to caregivers, and ensuring that micronutrient and electrolyte supplies are prioritised as rigorously as calories.
In Gaza, the line between life and death is no longer defined solely by the presence or absence of food—but by the manner in which food is reintroduced. The window for prevention is narrow. The cost of inaction is irreversible. The time to respond with medically informed, coordinated intervention is now.
—End—