In 2014, the self-styled Islamic State committed genocide against the Yezidi population in Iraq. To mark the anniversary of the genocide, Kings’ College London’s War Studies podcast featured Dr Inna Rudolf speaking with renowned Yezidi human rights advocate Mirza Dinnayi about what life is like for the Yezidi community ten years on from the genocide. Inna and Mirza discuss justice and accountability, the geopolitical situation in the Yezidis’ ancestral homeland, and what still needs to be done to support the community as they deal with a legacy of discrimination that precedes the atrocities of 2014.
This episode is available on Spotify, SoundCloud, and Apple Podcasts,
Kheder Khaddour is a nonresident scholar at the Malcolm H. Kerr Carnegie Middle East Center in Beirut. His research centers on civil military relations and local identities in the Levant, with a focus on Syria. Armenak Tokmajyan is also a nonresident scholar at the Middle East Center, focusing on borders and conflict, Syrian refugees, and state-society relations in Syria. Together, they recently published a paper, titled “Borders Without a Nation: Syria, Outside Powers, and Open-Ended Instability,” which was the culmination of several years of work on Syria’s borderlands, with the collaboration of Mohanad Hage Ali, Harith Hasan, and Maha Yahya. Diwan interviewed the two in late September to discuss the impact of Syria’s borders on the country’s conflict and its future.
Michael Young: You have just published a paper at Carnegie titled “Borders Without a Nation: Syria, Outside Powers, and Open-Ended Instability.” What do you argue in the paper, and what are your major conclusions?
Kheder Khaddour and Armenak Tokmajyan: We argue that after more than a decade of war, Syria’s international borders have not only remained intact but have also become more pronounced and reinforced, even as the national framework within those borders has collapsed. If you think about it, much of the Syria we knew before 2011 no longer exists. Many concepts and terms have lost their meaning, or their meaning has changed. One exception is borders, which have become increasingly emphasized and
demarcated, though to varying degrees depending on the specific border. This is largely due to the centrality of borderlands in the evolution of Syria’s conflict, as well as the role played by regional actors who seem to have utilized these international borders as barriers, with the aim of containing Syria’s problems within its territory.
At the same time, despite the endurance of sovereign borders, no new national framework has emerged. While the intensity of war and violence has subsided since 2020, the conflict itself remains unresolved. The containment of Syria’s multilayered grievances within more solid borders may help regional actors to mitigate spillovers, but it won’t resolve the underlying issues in the country. This, in turn, heightens the risk of partial implosions or the collapse of authority from within. We’ve already seen early signs of this across Syria, such as in Suwayda, where the regime’s authority and legitimacy were challenged to an unprecedented degree last year (even more than during the war years), and in Idlib, where Hay’at Tahrir al-Sham, which once appeared firmly in control after a period of stability, faced serious internal fractures.
MY: Your focus on borders underlines that you feel that control over border areas will be an essential feature in defining Syria’s future. Can you unpack this idea for readers?
KK and AT: To understand the evolution of Syria’s armed conflict, one cannot overlook the significance of the country’s borderlands. Numerous actors and factors have come and gone, influencing the trajectory of the conflict, yet the central role of border areas has remained constant—and has even grown in importance. In 2011–2012, rebellion and revolution spread across Syria, but dissent was particularly strong and sustained in its border regions. After the tide turned in2016, the Syrian regime, with the support of its allies, succeeded in pushing many threats toward border areas, but failed to decisively end the civil war by force. Diplomacy also failed to midwife an understanding between Damascus and rebellious border peripheries. As a result, the conflict today remains heavily concentrated in Syria’s borderlands. Any future resolution will not have to deal with international borders, since they are intact, but will have to reimagine the borderlands and their relationships with the much-weakened political center in Damascus.
MY: You point out that demographics, cross-border economic relations, and security have been main drivers of the dynamics in Syria’s border areas. Can you explain what you mean, and what the consequence of this have been?
KK and AT: With the collapse of the national framework, new local-regional links emerged, reshaping security, economic, and demographic dynamics, especially in Syria’s borderlands. This is particularly evident in the northwest, where Turkey’s presence and influence have brought about profound changes on all three levels. However, similar patterns can be observed not only in areas where the regime’s control is absent or contested—such as the northeast and Daraa in the south—but also in border areas with Lebanon and Iraq, where the regime, alongside its allies (notably Hezbollah and pro-Iranian militias), maintains control. While these areas are considered to be under the regime’s authority and do not directly challenge Syrian President Bashar al-Assad’s rule, strong local-regional ties, particularly with Iran, have been developed there, often at the expense of Syria’s sovereignty.
MY: Among the many outside actors in Syria, who do you think is the most consequential, or influential, in the country’s border regions, and why?
KK and AT: Not all foreign actors have the same influence or resources in Syria. However, major change by any one of the actors—notably the United States, Russia, Turkey, or Iran—could be very consequential. These regional and international actors, along with their local allies, are in a delicate equilibrium. Any pronounced shift from one of the key actors could lead to a collapse in the equilibrium among all of them. This prevents any side from making significant advances without disrupting the balance of power, which could allow others to expand their influence. In theory, this situation could shift if any one of the major actors were to significantly alter its policies. However, currently there are no strong indicators this will happen. Yet should it occur, it would certainly create a power vacuum in Syria, potentially triggering a cascade of conflicts until a new status quo is established.
MY: What is the way out of the present impasse? You write that a path to restoring national authority must take place in an “inter-Syrian process” that rests on a “consensus among main regional powers that Syria must remain united, that no one side can be victorious, and that perennial instability threatens the region.” What do you mean by such a process, and is a regional consensus possible given the contenting interests of regional powers in Syria?
KK and AT: This is a delicate question with no clear or easy answer. The way we see it, the primary obstacle to change in Syria is the regime in Damascus. The regime, quite openly, has no interest in discussing a new national framework. It claims to already have one and expects others to forget the war and adopt its vision, which is built on pillars such as personalized rule, autocracy, centralized governance, and economic monopolies—in other words, “Suriya al-Assad,” or “Assad’s Syria.” This approach, and the regime’s central role in the Syrian equation, makes it impossible to begin the search for a new national framework.
Another key point in our analysis is that Bashar al-Assad, and even the broader regime itself, cannot last indefinitely. Despite the regime’s resilience, the road ahead will be challenging, especially if there are internal collapses or a major shift in the balance of power, as discussed earlier. To be sure, these changes could either benefit or weaken the regime. But the key point is that even if Assad manages to navigate these challenges, he is 60 years old and is not immortal. That moment could present an opportunity for a new national framework to emerge, necessarily with active involvement from regional actors. This turning point could potentially shift Syria from its current state of stalemate and crises, both internal and external, toward some form of stability.
Syria remains in a state of civil war, or a form of it. The country’s path to stability will only come through regional and international powers, but the success of this evolution is tied to an inter-Syrian process to create a vision reuniting the Syrian people in a new national framework. This prospect is difficult to imagine in the coming years, but it is also the only means to achieve stability.
This article was originally published by The Conversation on 15 October 2024.
The assassination of Hezbollah’s leader, Hassan Nasrallah, in September sent shock waves through the Middle East and beyond. Nasrallah had evolved into the very embodiment of Hezbollah over his 32 years in charge, and had established himself as a key figure in Iran’s so-called axis of resistance.
At the height of his influence, Nasrallah was so widely admired from North Africa to Iran that shops sold DVDs of his speeches, cars were embellished with his image, and many Lebanese even used his quotes as ringtones.
He is not the first sectarian leader to have been assassinated in Lebanon. And on each occasion the killings have intensified sectarian tensions in the country and have jeopardised social stability. The impact of Nasrallah’s death will, in my opinion, probably be no different.
His killing could destabilise the fragile balance of power in the country. And it could also trigger a reshuffling of political alliances within Lebanon’s complex sectarian power-sharing framework that was established in 1990 after the end of the civil war.
A man in Baghdad, Iraq, carries an image of the late Hezbollah leader, Hassan Nasrallah. Ahmed Jalil / EPA
In 1977, the leftist leader of the Druze community, Kamal Jumblatt, was assassinated by two unidentified gunmen in his stronghold in the Shouf mountains of central Lebanon. Many of his followers believed they knew who was responsible, and channelled their anger toward Lebanon’s Christian community.
Security officials reported that more than 250 Christians were killed in revenge, many brutally, with their throats cut by Druze assailants. At least 7,000 Christians fled their villages after the killings, with around 700 of them travelling to the presidential palace in Baabda, a suburb of Beirut, to request government protection.
This spell of fighting marked a significant escalation of sectarian violence during the civil war, and resulted in a persistent cycle of retaliation, deepening division and entrenched sectarian identities.
Then, in June 1982, a powerful bomb explosion killed Lebanon’s Maronite Christian president, Bashir Gemayel. The assassination was carried out by two members of the Syrian Social Nationalist party, reportedly under orders from Syria’s then president, Hafez al-Assad.
The next day, Israeli troops entered west Beirut in support of the Phalange, a Lebanese Christian militia that blamed the Palestinian Liberation Organisation (PLO) for Gemayel’s death. Israel had earlier that month launched a massive invasion of Lebanon to destroy the PLO, which had been carrying out attacks on Israel from southern Lebanon.
Knowing that the Phalangists sought revenge for Gemayel’s death, Israeli forces allowed them to enter the Shatila refugee camp and the adjacent Sabra neighbourhood in Beirut and carry out a massacre a few months later. Lebanese Christian militiamen, in coordination with the Israeli army, killed between 2,000 and 3,500 Palestinian refugees and Muslim Lebanese civilians in just two days.
Scores of witness and survivor accounts say women were routinely raped, and some victims were buried alive or shot in front of their families. Women and children were crammed into trucks and taken to unknown destinations. These people were never seen again.
UN relief workers at the Shatila refugee camp in the aftermath of the massacre. Keystone Press / Alamy Stock Photo
Following the end of Lebanon’s civil war, there was a period of relative stability as a delicate balance of power was established between Lebanese sects. But a car bomb in downtown Beirut in 2005 killed the country’s former prime minister, Rafic Hariri, and again altered the dynamics of sectarian rivalry in Lebanon.
Lebanon lost one of its central figures, while fury over Syria’s alleged involvement in Hariri’s murder raised international pressure on Syria to end its 29-year occupation. The withdrawal diminished Syria’s influence as the primary mediator in the country, and the underlying tension between the two main sectarian groups vying for power, the Sunnis and Shia, surfaced abruptly.
Lebanon experienced 18 months of political deadlock and protests, with Hezbollah and its allies pushing for a veto power in the government. Hostilities intensified and violence became a constant threat.
Then, in May 2008, the Lebanese government attempted to remove a Hezbollah-aligned security officer and investigate the organisation’s private communications network. This ignited fierce clashes between supporters of the government and the Hezbollah-led opposition.
Hezbollah and its allies occupied west Beirut and at least 71 people, including 14 civilians, were killed over the following fortnight.
Hezbollah steadily expanded and enhanced its military capabilities over the next ten years. And it also emerged as a powerful regional player by joining Iran and Russia in supporting Bashar al-Assad’s regime in the Syrian civil war.
The organisation assumed an increasingly central role in Lebanese politics, and secured a majority of seats in the 2018 parliamentary elections.
Lebanon’s modern history is rife with conflict. The assassination of Nasrallah marks the latest in a series of bloody milestones that have served as sharp turning points – and even transformational moments – in Lebanon’s sectarian politics.
Christian and Sunni factions in Lebanon have for years viewed Hezbollah as effectively commandeering the state, leveraging its powerful military wing and Iranian backing. With Hezbollah now visibly weakened in the absence of its powerful and charismatic leader, this longstanding power dynamic may be set for a shift.
There are signs that divisions are already deepening. Videos from Tripoli, a predominantly Sunni city in northern Lebanon, show residents dancing in the streets in celebration of Nasrallah’s death. Other videos show people removing Hezbollah stickers from the vehicles of displaced Shias.
Meanwhile, Hezbollah supporters have pledged retaliation for Nasrallah’s elimination. Lebanon once again finds itself on the verge of fierce sectarian tension and instability.
This article was produced with support from the Cross-Border Conflict Evidence, Policy and Trends (XCEPT) research programme, funded by UK International Development. The views expressed do not necessarily reflect the UK government’s official policies.
Despite an end to the active conflict in the Tigray region, Ethiopia’s political and security crisis is deepening. Much of the country’s insecurity is linked to competition over natural resources, which has fuelled land disputes and intensified cross-border smuggling, driven inter-communal conflict, and aggravated environmental hazards.
Ethiopia has substantial gold reserves, particularly in the areas bordering Sudan. These reserves made up more than 95 per cent of the country’s $428 million in mineral exports between 2023–24. Ethiopia officially exported a high of 12 metric tonnes of gold between 2011–12, a figure that fell to 4.2 tonnes in 2023–24, despite the emergence of new gold projects and the expansion of artisanal, or small-scale, mining.
Gold mining is increasingly informal and outside of federal government control. Several large-scale gold projects have been ‘in the pipeline’ for over a decade without starting official production. Some have been overtaken by illegal exploration, extraction and smuggling operations, often in collusion with various government and non-government actors.
Gold mining in Ethiopia is increasingly informal and outside of federal government control.
Confidential reports suggest that some foreign investors and Ethiopian geologists possess more detailed mining data than the government. Artisanal mining employs at least 1.5 million people (74 per cent of miners) and accounts for 65 per cent of mining foreign exchange earnings.
Of Ethiopia’s regions, Tigray leads the way in exploration and commercial licensing, with over 90 licensed gold mining companies. Tigray was among the biggest suppliers of gold to the National Bank of Ethiopia before the war, with about 26 quintals (2.6 metric tonnes) of gold annually, valued at around $100 million. Since the Tigray war, much of the region’s gold has instead been smuggled – with estimates that nationally, this amounts to as much as 6 tonnes of gold annually, significantly more than current official exports.
Multiple non-state actors, including leaders of the Tigray Defense Forces (TDF), foreign nationals, and local businesspeople are involved. Control over gold has been one of the reasons impacting the recent internal split within the leadership of the Tigray People’s Liberation Front (TPLF), the dominant party in the region.
Reports suggest that TDF leaders and some members of the TPLF oversee most of the illicit mining, with gold smuggled out of Ethiopia through Sudan, to the UAE. This plunder of gold ultimately harms the Tigrayan public, as the resource should be used to rebuild the region destroyed by a devastating war. Equally worrying, the gold rush in Tigray is becoming increasingly violent. A recent conflict in a Rahwa gold mine in northwestern Tigray resulted in over 20 deaths.
Other conflict-prone regions are also seeing an expansion of the illicit gold sector, with Benishangul and Oromia regions ‘officially’ barely producing a quarter of the amounts projected by the government. A Canadian company agreed to invest $500m over 15 years in exploiting gold reserves around the small town of Kurmuk in Benishangul, along the Sudanese border. But encroachment by illicit miners has prevented access to the site, and the involvement of regional officials and local militants has left the federal government unable to act. There are reports of massive extraction taking place, with gold again being smuggled out via Sudan to the UAE.
Keen to prevent the loss of hundreds of millions of dollars every year, the Ethiopian government is trying to curb illegal mining. Cracking down on the illicit market, incentivizing legal suppliers, and amending restrictive and ambiguous laws are measures the government is taking.
However, contested authority between federal, regional and local administrations has paved the way for opportunistic, nepotistic, and criminal elements to profit, which fuels armed conflict. As such, the federal government’s ability to impose peace and security is uncertain at best.
These state and non-state elites also cooperate and compete for power in transnational spaces. Sudan is the primary recipient of illicit gold from Ethiopia due to its proximity to Ethiopia’s gold belt. Illicit gold from Benishangul, Gambela, Oromia, Tigray and parts of southern Ethiopia flows into Sudan via a porous border with the help of smugglers and brokers, facilitated by conflict in Ethiopia’s Tigray region and in Sudan.
The illicit gold networks in Sudan have flourished in its war economy. Profits generated by the smuggling of gold sustain the war efforts of armed actors.
Other smuggling routes traverse Afar to Eritrea and Somaliland, and the Guji area near the Kenyan border. Regional airports have also become transit points for illicit gold, which is sent to destinations like Uganda and then re-exported to the UAE.
The illicit gold networks in Sudan have flourished in its war economy. Profits generated by the smuggling of gold from and through Ethiopia, Eritrea, Uganda and as far as the DRC, alongside domestic Sudanese production, sustain the war efforts of armed actors, notably the Sudanese Armed Forces and Rapid Support Forces.
But it is the UAE that is the ultimate destination for much of Africa’s smuggled gold, including Ethiopia’s. According to a recent report by Swiss Aid, 2,569 metric tonnes of undeclared gold from Africa, worth a staggering $115 billion, ended up there between 2012 and 2022. The UAE’s questionable import procedures, which do not necessarily require detailed information about the origins of gold, as well as incentives to import ‘scrap’ gold, make it ideal for smugglers.
The expansion of illicit gold mining is exacerbating Ethiopia’s complex conflicts. Regional states have reclaimed mining concessions to assert control amid diminishing federal influence. At the same time non-state armed actors are competing for gold revenues to expand their local authority and, in some cases, challenge the authority of the state. The gold sector is becoming increasingly fragmented and militarized, and risks being drawn into multiple local and ethnic fractures as the federal government struggles to impose the rule of law.
But in addition to tackling issues at the national level, addressing this issue in the long term requires a better understanding of the transnational nature of gold flows across the region, and how these interconnections form part of a conflict ecosystem that operates across borders.
The UAE is both the prime customer for Ethiopia’s stolen resources and one of its most valued diplomatic partners, offering external support that is as valuable as gold to a government under enormous pressure. The UAE’s emergence as both patron and consumer of conflict gold is a contradiction that Ethiopian policymakers and international partners who support sustainable peace in the region will need to resolve if progress is to be made.
This article was produced with support from the Cross-Border Conflict Evidence, Policy and Trends (XCEPT) research programme, funded by UK International Development. The views expressed do not necessarily reflect the UK government’s official policies.
