This video highlights the Community-Based Participatory Methodology (CBPR) and Community-Driven Research approach developed by the Center for Peace and Justice (CPJ) at BRAC University. It will explore how this innovative approach was initially pioneered in Cox’s Bazar, Bangladesh, focusing on refugee governance, and later adapted for new research in Jessore, Bangladesh, addressing critical issues of climate change, migration, and fragility along the Bangladesh-India borderland.
“The war rages just across the border, while we endure sleepless nights in the refugee camps of Bangladesh,” recounts a 30-year-old Rohingya man, who hides in nearby villages to evade forced conscription by armed groups.
Myanmar’s civil war has crossed international borders. As we write this, Rakhine State in Myanmar, the ancestral homeland of the Rohingyas, is undergoing a seismic transformation. Since the collapse of a ceasefire in November 2023, Myanmar’s military junta and the Arakan Army (AA) have fought an intense war over the future of Rakhine State, within which the Rohingya were caught in the crossfire. The subsequent year of fighting has led to the death of more than 1,300 people, mass displacement, and a new territorial order. In 2024, AA made substantial territorial gains and now controls most of Rakhine state, including the entire border with Bangladesh. These dramatic shifts in power cast a long shadow over the already uncertain future of the Rohingya in Myanmar. The Rohingya refugees in Bangladesh’s camps have also been drawn into the escalating war – turning spaces of refuge into an extended battlefield. The renewed transnationalisation of conflict has changed the patterns of gendered violence in the camps, manifesting itself in new refugee movements, the proliferation of Rohingya armed groups, forced conscription campaigns and the imposition of a morality driven and culturally inscribed masculinity, and high prevalence of sexualised violence against women and girls.
Escalating violence has exposed the population in Rakhine to new threats from multiple sides. Extrajudicial killings, arson, rape, and other severe human rights violations against the Rohingya have been reported. A new wave of displacement followed as approximately 80,000 Rohingya sought refuge in Bangladesh in recent months. As of February 2025, the official figure of Rohingya living in the world’s largest refugee camp surpasses one million. These camps have only basic infrastructure, and the rights of the ‘Forcibly Displaced Myanmar Nationals’, which is the official label for the Rohingya in Bangladesh, are minimal. They lack livelihood options and are almost totally dependent on humanitarian aid.
The refugee camps in Bangladesh have become sites of violent power struggles among armed groups, most notably the Arakan Rohingya Salvation Army, Rohingya Solidarity Organisation, Arakan Rohingya Army, and Islami Mahas. These groups have created a climate of fear among refugees. They informally control the camps as ‘night governments’ and operate with near impunity both within the camps and in the wider Bangladesh-Myanmar borderland.
Since early 2024, the Myanmar military, desperate to maintain control, had resorted to forcibly recruiting Rohingya men and boys in Rakhine, exploiting their vulnerability and statelessness. The armed groups active in Bangladesh’s camps also started to abduct Rohingya refugees to fight in Rakhine state. According to reports, over 5,000 male Rohingya were violently or voluntarily conscripted, trained in weapon use, and then sold to warring parties in Myanmar or became part of units of Rohingya armed groups actively engaged in combat. The conscriptions reveal a complex relation between refugeehood, masculinity, and nation-state formation as the armed groups created and instrumentalised societal expectations towards Rohingya men, particularly youth, who should demonstrate a “militarised masculinity” to protect their race, religion, and motherland. In this wake, Rohingya men themselves become highly vulnerable to violence, while patriarchal norms were reaffirmed and the social fabric in the Rohingya camps was transformed.
A representative of a humanitarian NGO working in Cox’s Bazar explained another tactic used by groups forcibly conscripting Rohingya men: “If the brother or father or the husband doesn’t want to go to Myanmar and fight, the groups threaten those families, particularly the daughters or wives. Basically, if the men don’t join, the women will be abducted and raped.” Rohingya women face threats and sexual abuse as leverage against their male relatives, but they also play a critical role in resisting abductions, hiding young men during recruitment sweeps or assisting their escape. Nonetheless, due to forced conscriptions, the deaths of fighters, and men’s onward movements (such as perilous sea journeys to Indonesia or Malaysia) many households in the camps are female-led, which amplifies women’s already existing vulnerabilities to violence.
These dynamics reveal the significance of the camp-border-nexus. The new power of both the Rohingya armed groups in Bangladesh and the Arakan Army in Myanmar rests on their mobility and networks on both sides of the border. Cross-border trafficking of licit and illicit goods, including drugs, forced recruitment, human smuggling, and kidnapping for ransom have become part and parcel of the transnational war economies that continue to fuel violence in both countries.
There is a need for a radically different way of looking at the Rohingya humanitarian crisis, especially if we are to understand its transnational manifestations and gendered nature. To date, the Bangladeshi government and international partners have viewed gender-based violence against Rohingya as a local humanitarian problem that mainly concerns women. While it is true that women and girls are most vulnerable, and most GBV incidents take place in the camps, this focus on violence against women and the site of the camps is too narrow. As sketched, new patterns of gendered violence have emerged, in which Rohingya men are the main targets, and which are clearly linked to armed groups’ cross-border entanglements. Addressing this transnational landscape of gendered violence and enhancing the protection of both Rohingya women and men is a challenge. Nevertheless, recent changes in Bangladesh’s policy, the formation of a Rohingya Task Force, and the upcoming UN summit on the situation of the Rohingya led by Bangladesh’s interim government, offer a rare opportunity to reset the official and humanitarian strategies that have been in place for almost a decade. The chance must not be missed to then also address the transnational roots of insecurity and gendered violence in this contested borderland.
Local understandings of pollution
Unity State, situated in north-central South Sudan, is home to a significant proportion of the country’s oilfields. It is also subject to large-scale flooding. The ensuing flooding started in 2020.[1] Some communities, especially in the Southern part of the state, believed it started much early than this—around 2019.[2] Flooding water in Unity has been there with no significant sign of going away, and this only keeps increasing the level of the water already there each season.
The state’s rural population has been suffering the negative effects of pollution especially since the construction of a pipeline through Unity State in 1999 and the intensification of oil extraction following the Comprehensive Peace Agreement in 2005.
Prior to the post-2005 intensification in oil production, local Nuer regarded the effects of ‘pollution’ as being down to minor everyday actions such as eating with unwashed hands; touching faecal waste; coming into contact with the remains of a dog, donkey, cat or snake; or even just eating unfamiliar foods. However, in the wake of the extreme flooding seen in 2007, together with the rise of modernity—or chop wic as the Nuer would call it—the concept of pollution as it is locally understood has started to change.
Now, local people regularly claim the oil extraction and intense fighting seen in Unity State since the 1990s have poisoned the soil and water, causing sickness in both humans and animals. For instance, thousands of dead fish, mostly tilapia, have been spotted in flooding along the Bentiu–Unity road. It is believed that toxic chemicals from oil production and pollution have entered the drinking water of the communities and their cattle. While the cause of death is unclear, many believe the fish died due to oil pollution in the water. Also believed to be contaminating the water are the vast quantities of unexploded ordinance and military debris strewn along roads, around barracks or where battles took place. All of this is lueng—a Nuer word that literally translates as poisoning, but is also used to describe the general effects of pollution.
To date, little has been done by the state authorities to help mitigate the situation. Thus, when it comes to dealing with the problems posed by water pollution, people are heavily reliant on traditional methods, such as building dykes around their homesteads to prevent influxes of contaminated water.[3] Alternatively, villagers may choose to move away from the source of pollutants, such as the carcass of an animal killed by contaminants. This often involves migrating from flooded land to biil (raised land).[4] Continued, widespread flooding has, however, led to shrinking areas of biil, making it difficult for rural populations and their livestock to secure unflooded—and therefore unpolluted—land. This has led to local tensions and in some cases conflict.
The social impacts of pollution and flooding
A number of serious social problems have arisen in Unity State due to the recurrent flooding and increased pollution. Some reports found that there has been increased in number of children born with birth defects.[5]Here, is it worth noting that there has never been a time when the region’s rural residents have had adequate access to clean, treated water. Although humanitarian organizations did at one-point install hand pumps in some areas, these have now either been uprooted or swallowed by the floods, forcing entire villages to rely on potentially contaminated water. This situation has led to escalating complaints about diarrhoea and the fact that local clinics are unable to provide proper treatment.
Several conflicts have flared due to growing numbers of displaced people crowding into dwindling higher ground, with those thought to possess disease-bearing animals sometimes prevented from settling in these areas. Peter Machieng Chan Gatduel attributed poor agricultural productivity and disruption of civilian livelihoods to dramatic changes in climatic variations such as increased in rainfall and flooding.[6] At the same time, many families displaced from rural villages have either sought refuge in the homes of town-based relatives or sought out dry ground in and around towns, sometimes claiming these areas as their new homes. The area named Mia Sava, for example, is currently occupied by displaced villagers from Rubkona County.[7]Given the uncertainty created by the likelihood of further flooding, there are fears these incomers may decide to remain there permanently, potentially provoking inter-communal tensions.
Moreover, many young people have been separated from their relatives in the rush to migrate to safer areas, such as county headquarters or the state capital. Others, meanwhile, have been drawn into committing road robberies. Such anti-social behaviour is regarded by elders as stemming from dak rool lan (the ruin of our world). As a Nuer elder in Mayom County observes, ‘you can only control your children when you have the power to feed them’.[8]
Flooding and the spread of pollutants
There is still no clear understanding among rural Nuer about what is causing the extreme flooding—some attribute it the over-flowing of the Nile’s water, while others worry the gods have been angered. Nevertheless, 2007 marked a turning point in awareness about the impacts of pollution. The immense flood waters seen that year not only killed huge numbers of livestock and displaced many people from Mayom and Rubkona counties, but spread pollution from oil, war debris and dead animals across the landscape. Most people in the affected areas now believe pollution is affecting their livelihoods and health in ways that were previously unimaginable.
In 2021, Thep fishing camp—an area that runs along the border between Mayom and Rubkona—saw an outbreak of diarrhoea believed to have been caused by the consumption of contaminated fish. About 30 people were affected, ten of whom died. That same year, around 30 cows and 20 elephants were allegedly found dead near a pool close to Tharthiah oil field, with locals attributing their deaths to increased water and soil pollution.
Even more recently, a 2023 Sudd Institute report revealed communities are anxious that new forms of pollution may be responsible for the death of cattle, the deformation of newborn babies and the premature birth of infants.[9] Some residents complain their relatives or children have disappeared in the water, either because they drowned or were poisoned.
All this has led to a widespread local saying that the regular flooding is both a blessing and a curse: a blessing because it brings with it abundant water and fish; and a curse because it not only washes away their crops and top soil, but the contaminated water is perceived to bring unknown diseases that are infecting their cattle. Given the extreme level of flooding seen in recent years, many people now wish the waters did not come at all.
Nuer terms for forms of pollution
People are creating new names for pollution based on the symptoms they observe in a sick cow or person. For example, the flooding of 2014 and 2015 brought with it a serious cattle disease that the pastoralist community in Mayom County named Juornyin (eyes disappear in), based on the fact the cow’s eyes become watery and over time sink deep into its head. Thousands of livestock were lost to the disease, leaving many families with nothing. It is now prohibited to consume any cattle that has died of Juornyin, as residents believe their flesh has been polluted by as-yet-unknown substances. The pastoralist community is possibly the most affected by pollution issues, as their animals depend entirely on untreated water and vegetation.
A similar theory is evolving about local fish populations, with some residents asserting that the taste of tilapia and Nile perch has changed in recent years due to the effects of pollution. People are therefore becoming increasingly selective about which fish they buy at markets for home consumption. Many rural villagers now prefer mudfish and catfish, with these changing tastes reflected in the prices charged for the respective fish: in Mankien fish market, a mudfish sells for SSP 3,000 (about USD 0.60 during the research period) while the equivalent Nile perch sells for SSP 2,500 or less.[10]
Conclusion
Pollution caused by oil extraction and past conflict is, alongside repeated extreme flooding, causing significant negative impacts for the rural communities, livestock and aquatic life of Unity State. Despite repeatedly complaining of birth defects, residents living near oil wells have largely been ignored.
Meanwhile, most villagers are only too aware of the dangers of pollution, but lack the scientific tools necessary to obtain credible information on the local effects of contamination. Thus, until such time as the state is willing to take meaningful action, rural populations must seek their own solutions, such as moving to higher ground or avoiding potentially polluted food wherever possible. It is unlikely, however, that such measures will be viable over the long term.
Notes
[1] Edward Eremugo Kenyi, ‘Climate Change, Oil Pollution, and Birth Defects in South Sudan: A Growing Crisis’, South Sudan Medical Journal 17, no. 4 (December 3, 2024): 157–58. Accessed 15 February 2025, https://doi.org/10.4314/ssmj.v17i4.1.
[2] Focus group discussion (FGD) with farmers and firewood/water-lily roots collectors in St. Bakhita Parish, Mayom, 2 June 2024. FGD with elders and farmers, Mankien, 3 June 2024.
[3] KII with RRC County Director, Guit County, Bentiu town, 15 May 2024.
[4] KII with an NRC Protection worker, Bentiu town, 15 May 2024.
[5] Kenyi, ‘Climate Change, Oil Pollution, and Birth Defects in South Sudan’.
[6] Peter Machieng Chan Gaduel, ‘Reviewing the Climate-Security Nexus: The Impacts of Climate Vulnerability on Pastoralist Conflicts in the Unity State Region, South Sudan’, Queen Mary University of London Global Policy Institute, 2022.
[7] FGD with displaced people, Biemruor, Bentiu town, 21 May 2024.
[8] KII with Paramount chief in Mankien Payam, 6 June 2024; KII with an ex-combatant, Rubkona town, 18 May 2024.
[9] Nhial Tiitmamer and Kwai Malak Kwai Kut, ‘Sitting on a Time Bomb: Oil Pollution Impacts on Human Health in Melut County, South Sudan’, Special Report, The Sudd Institute, January 2021.
[10] FGD with fishermen, Bentiu, Bilnyang/Gany River, 22 May 2024.
Since the 2011 war in Libya, migrant smuggling and trafficking through the country has flourished. This interactive explainer from Chatham House looks at three phases in the development of the migrant smuggling trade through Libya.
In 2011, a brutal conflict between Sudanese government troops and Sudan People’s Liberation Movement–North (SPLM/N) fighters in the Nuba Mountains region forced civilians caught up in the violence to flee across the border to South Sudan.[1] There, in Yida—the first of three refugee camps to be established in the area—the Office of the United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees (UNHCR) saw to the basic needs of those who had been displaced, including their food, shelter, health and education. Refugees were also able to cultivate crops using handmade farming tools, with the fertile land in Yida camp providing consistently good harvests.
Previously, children living in the Nuba Mountains were often involved in unpaid household work such as bricklaying, cattle-grazing and farm work. Having been displaced, however, the comprehensive international support provided—which extended to unaccompanied children separated from their parents—meant this practical assistance was no longer needed.
In 2020, the long proposed resettlement of refugees living in Yida camp brought an end to UNHCR support. As a consequence, many children in Yida—and increasingly the other two camps as well—have had to seek paid work in order to supplement their family income. Such employment, which can often take children beyond the confines of the camp, includes building work, assisting Bagara nomads with cattle-grazing, and selling poles, grass or charcoals. In undertaking such tasks, children are frequently exposed to financial exploitation and dangerous conditions, placing them at risk of physical and emotional harm. Moreover, the dire economic situation faced in the camp has led to rising numbers of girls and young women having to submit to forced and/or early marriage.
Given the current Sudan war has led to a new wave of displaced people seeking refuge in South Sudan, there is a very real possibility that these dynamics will be further exacerbated over the coming months unless appropriate action is taken. This blog is based on XCEPT research in 2024 involving extensive interviews with Nuba Mountains refugees on South Sudan’s border to understand these dynamics.
Yida, Ajuong Thok and Pamir camps were established in South Sudan’s Ruweng administrative area in order to host refugees escaping the Nuba Mountains conflict.[2] Yida camp served as the main entry point from South Kordofan, and initially hosted 20,000 refugees—mostly survivors of the Kadugli massacre in June. Shortly afterwards, in November 2011, the Sudanese air force provoked international outrage by dropping two bombs on Yida camp, killing 12 refugees and injuring 20. By 2013, the camp’s population had increased to 71,000, the vast majority of whom were women and children.
In March 2013, UNHCR and South Sudan’s Commission for Refugees Affairs established Ajoung Thok camp, which initially held 24,000 refugees and currently hosts over 55,000 refugees.[3] The last of the three camps to be set up was Pamir in September 2016, which was intended to host refugees relocated from Yida camp. Having started out with 34,000 refugees, the camp is currently home to more than 50,000 people, its population swelled by new arrivals escaping the ongoing war in Sudan.[4]
In 2016, UNHCR and the South Sudanese government announced that, given chronic overcrowding issues, the security implications of the camp’s location 20 km from the border with Sudan, and the fact Yida had never been officially recognized as a refugee camp, its inhabitants were to be relocated elsewhere. The Nuba refugees rejected relocation to Ajuong Thok and Pamir, however, arguing the two camps were too close to the border area controlled by the Sudanese government, and that at least Yida was close to SPLM-N authorities in the Nuba Mountains.
Despite these objections, the formal relocation process was eventually set in motion: in October 2019, UNHCR discontinued its food assistance in Yida, and two months later Médecins Sans Frontières (MSF) stopped its medical services. By 2020, refugee schools had been left in the hands of the South Sudan state government, with water and sanitation handed over to local authorities and the refugee community.
During the course of 2020, just 2,758 Yida refugees were relocated to Pamir. Although children could continue to access free education in Pamir, the food ration there was halved from four to two malwas (gallons) of sorghum per person per month, further discouraging Yida refugees from resettling. The relocation has since led to a number of negative impacts for the refugees remaining at Yida, while those living in the two newer camps are also facing increasing hardship. Access to water has become more difficult, while clinical drugs are harder to find, forcing many to turn to herbal medicine.
Of particular concern when it comes to children is the loss of access to free education. Government school fees were initially set at USD 1 and USD 2 per term respectively for primary and secondary schools (based on three terms per school year). These fees have since increased to USD 3 and USD 5 respectively. Many parents, who are already struggling to provide enough food for their families, simply cannot afford these rates.
As a consequence, many children are now having to take up paid work or are leaving home to seek a better life, whether inside the camp or further afield, in Parieng, Liri, Rubkona or the Nuba Mountains.
In the past, children living in the Nuba Mountains region would often be expected to participate in domestic tasks as a means of passing on necessary skills for later in life.[5] For instance, children with pastoralist parents would likely be involved in camel, goat, sheep, cow or donkey rearing, while the children of farmers might be given small plots of land to tend. Other household duties assigned to children included hunting, fishing and collecting wild fruits or firewood. Despite these responsibilities, children (those aged 5–17 years) still had sufficient time to play with their friends.
More recently, having a formal education has acquired greater importance, with most parents keen to ensure their children go to school. When the 2011 war erupted, many Nuba people migrated to South Sudan partly to ensure their children could continue to access a school education.
Today, however, children from poorer families are having to work not to acquire skills, but simply to earn money. One avenue of employment is bricklaying. This would previously have been viewed as man’s work, but the pressures wrought by displacement, the war in Sudan and inflation in South Sudan mean women and children now have to engage in this often back-breaking work for meagre wages.
Another way in which children can make money is assisting Bagara nomads. In this scenario, the refugee parents agree to let the nomad take their child away for the purposes of helping graze their animals, sometimes for months on end. The child is paid a he-goat (worth about USD 100) for every month they work. The he-goats are usually then sold by the parents in order to buy sorghum to supplement the family’s diet, or purchase shoes, medication and soap for other siblings. Having to spend months away from home inevitably means the children assisting the Bagara nomads must forego their education.
According to UNHCR refugee law, refugees are not supposed to return to their countries of origin or even leave the camp to travel to other parts of the host country. The growing difficulty of meeting daily needs has, however, driven many refugees to move to Liri (in Sudan) in search of farming jobs. Commercial farm owners in Liri offer reasonable wages, equivalent to about USD 5 per day. In this scenario, children mostly cross over to Liri with adults, siblings or friends who have previously worked there. Older children (aged 12–17) are sometimes given accommodation by the commercial farm owners for the duration of their employment, following which they return to their camp and give the money they have earned to their parents. Alternatively, children may work alongside their parents before crossing back together.
Refugees arriving in Yida camp between 2011 and 2019 were provided with accommodation by UNHCR. Since then, however, refugees have had to build shelters themselves. In light of this, refugees—children included—have taken to collecting poles and grass from the nearby forest, which they then sell. Some are also involved in building structures for host community members, receiving the equivalent of USD 20 for each one they build. Other refugees have sought to make money by collecting firewood and making charcoal.
Again, tasks such were previously the preserve of adults, and only conducted by children for training purposes under the supervision of their parents. Now, financial imperatives mean it is commonplace for children, even younger ones, to take on these physically arduous tasks for money.
As already touched upon, there are a number of negative implications to children in refugee camps undertaking paid work. Most obviously, they will have less time and energy to attend school or complete homework.[6] Thus, in attempting to meet short-term needs, they end up compromising their long-term futures, perpetuating the cycle of poverty endured by their families.
Children forced to spend long hours engaged in strenuous work also risk suffering serious physical and mental health issues.[7] Mental disorders such as depression and anxiety have become commonplace among children in Ajuong Thok, Pamir and Yida camps, often—according to a focus group discussion with youths[8]—induced by injuries sustained through paid work and the lack of appropriate medication they receive afterwards.
In addition, many of the children who reside at their workplace end up sleeping without a mosquito net, rendering them susceptible to malaria and other chronic diseases.
Back when they used to live in the Nuba Mountains, children were almost entirely exempt from paid work. Now, the pressures of war, ongoing displacement, inflation, insufficient harvests and a lack of support from both the South Sudan government and international organizations mean refugee children—particularly those in Yida—must prioritize making money over pursuing an education.
If this state of affairs is to be reversed, then the government and NGOs must intervene to provide fully funded educational support to refugee children, especially those in direst financial need. In doing so, concerted efforts must be made to incentivize schooling over paid work.
[1] Sudan Human Security Baseline Assessment (HSBA). www.smallarmssurvey.org/project/human-security-baseline-assessment-hsba-sudan-and-south-sudan.
[2] UNHCR, ‘South Sudan: Yida refugee settlement profile’, 28 February 2020. Accessed 23 January 2025, https://data.unhcr.org/en/documents/details/74632.
[3] UNHCR, ‘South Sudan: Ajuong Thok refugee camp profile’, 28 February 2020. Accessed 23 January 2025, https://data.unhcr.org/en/documents/details/74627.
[4] UNHCR, ‘South Sudan: Pamir refugee camp profile’, 28 February 2020. Accessed 23 January 2025, https://data.unhcr.org/en/documents/details/74631.
[5] L. Aquila, ‘Child Labour, Education and Commodification in South Sudan’, Rift Valley Institute, 2022. https://riftvalley.net/publication/child-labour-education-and-commodification-south-sudan/.
[6] Olivier Thévenon and Eric Edmonds, ‘Child labour: causes, consequences and policies to tackle it’, OECD working paper, November 2019.
[7] Anaclaudia Fassa et al., ‘Child Labor and Health: Problems and Perspectives’, International Journal of Occupational and Environmental Health 6: 1 (2000), 55-62.
[8] FGD with Rawada, Fatuma, Alamin, Idriss, Samarn, Naina and Jalla, Yida, 12 June 2024.
Since the 2011 Libyan revolution, the country has endured waves of conflict. As an integral linkage between Africa and Europe, international media highlights a growing migrant crisis through Libya – attributed to a human smuggling and trafficking sector regulated by various local actors.
In this episode, Tim Eaton and Lubna Yousef discuss their latest research on how transnational human smuggling has fuelled conflict in Libya through a systems analysis of three key transit cities – Kufra, Sebha and Zawiya. Using this approach, their research examines the roles played by conflict and social dynamics in the expansion of human smuggling and trafficking – thus helping uncover critical gaps in policies aimed at addressing the rapid rise of migration.
This episode is available on Soundcloud, Apple Podcasts and Spotify.
Kheder Khaddour is a nonresident scholar at the Malcolm H. Kerr Carnegie Middle East Center in Beirut. His research is focused on civil military relations and local identities in the Levant, with a concentration on Syria. Most recently, he co-authored a major paper on Syria’s borders with Armenak Tokmajyan, titled, “Borders Without a Nation: Syria, Outside Powers, and Open-Ended Instability.” Diwan interviewed him in early February to get his perspective on the Syrian-Lebanese border, which has been the site of cross-border conflict in recent weeks.
Michael Young: How has the downfall of the Assad regime in Syria affected the situation along the Syria-Lebanon border?
Kheder Khaddour: In the months leading up to the fall of the Syrian regime, Israeli airstrikes intensified along the border, including those targeting official border crossings. These attacks weakened Hezbollah’s capabilities. The regime’s collapse created a new security reality. Groups operating under the supervision of Hay’at Tahrir al-Sham took control of the official border crossings and their combatants spread across all the border areas, replacing Hezbollah militants and the former Syrian army and security forces. This created an extremely fragile security situation on both sides of the border. On the one hand, the Lebanese state’s authority had always been weak in these areas, and on the other, the groups that took control of the Syrian side had a militia-based structure.
MY: Recently, there has been fighting in border areas. What has been the cause of this?
KK: The most recent round of fighting has been concentrated in the areas of Qusayr in Syria and the Hermel area of northeastern Lebanon. The most crucial factor here has been demographics. There is a mix of Shiite and Sunni villages in these areas. Hezbollah entered Syria through Qusayr in 2013, but the focus today is not on the city itself but primarily on the area west of the Orontes River. In this region, there are mainly Shiite villages populated by Lebanese, whose inhabitants have owned land on the Syrian side of the border for decades. The area, which served as a gateway into Syria during the Syrian conflict, is today the place of armed confrontation between members of Hay’at Tahrir al-Sham and Shiite families such as the Jaafar and Zeaiter clans. These conflicts reflect the ongoing sectarian tensions that have persisted since the outbreak of the Syrian war in 2012.
MY: Smuggling has long been a problem along the border, and recent reports indicate that it is continuing. What are the implications of this for the new Syrian government? Is it in a position to bring such activities to an end?
KK: Smuggling has been a main problem since the establishment of the border between Syria and Lebanon. There are two types of smuggling. First, smuggling involving essential goods, which has never stopped and is linked to price differentials between markets in the two countries. Currently, in the middle of a tense security situation, smuggling networks are transporting goods such as diesel fuel and poultry from Lebanon into Syria. Hundreds of families on both sides of the border depend on this trade for their livelihood. The second type of smuggling is political in nature, and includes weapons, drugs, and people. This has completely stopped in the last two months given the removal of the Assad regime and Hezbollah’s inability to engage in cross-border activities.
MY: What is Hezbollah’s status in the border area, given that at one time the party played a major role in controlling both sides of the border? Have we seen a retreat of Hezbollah on this front?
KK: Hezbollah is currently besieged, with the Lebanese army on one side of the border in Lebanon and members of Hay’at Tahrir al-Sham and affiliated groups on the Syrian side. However, the party retains considerable influence in the Beqaa region and across all Shiite villages along the border. Hezbollah’s activities in the border area depend on two main factors: its position within the new political framework of the Lebanese state; and the security and sectarian tensions along the border, which could create a suitable ground for renewed Hezbollah activity. Another important factor is the ongoing Israeli attacks targeting Hezbollah’s activities and assets. Strikes against clans linked to the party will weaken its presence in the border area, while strengthening Hay’at Tahrir al-Sham on the Syrian side.
MY: One fear in Lebanon is that the new leadership in Damascus has Salafi jihadi origins, and that this may have a spillover effect on Lebanon. Do you consider this scenario realistic, and what do you see as the potential risks?
KK: I think this issue will fundamentally reshape the relationship between Lebanon and Syria. There are three main points here: Syria’s new ideology; the defeat of the so-called Axis of Resistance in the region and the ensuing security vacuum; and the potential for sectarian conflict in Lebanon. The ideology of the forces on the ground in Syria today primarily defines itself through the “other.” That is, the Sunni ideology of Hay’at Tahrir al-Sham is a reaction to the Shiite political ideology that has dominated in Iraq, Syria, and Lebanon since the U.S. invasion of Iraq in 2003. Today, the rulers in Damascus are shaping a new Syrian identity, one based on ideological foundations, which expresses itself through phrases such as the description of Syria as “the state of the Umayyads,” or phrases shared on social media such as, “Oh Iran, go crazy, the Sunnis are coming to rule us!” Even Ahmad al-Sharaa, Syria’s de facto president, has entered the fray, speaking of a “natural Syria,” by which he means a Sunni Syria, as opposed to a Shiite Syria.
The Axis of Resistance has left a large security vacuum in Syria after its defeat by Israel in the year after the October 7, 2023 Hamas attack from Gaza. This vacuum has been filled by local jihadi groups, which could provide inspiration to Salafi networks inside Lebanon, enabling them to express themselves from Tripoli to Akkar and the Beqaa Valley. The Salafi movement in Lebanon feels empowered because of the developments in Syria, and its relationship with its Syrian counterparts is likely to strengthen over time. Such a development could create sectarian tensions in Lebanon, with local conflicts undermining civil peace and stability. For example, in the Zahleh region, there are two towns, Taalabaya, which includes Shiites, and Saadnayel, which is Sunni. Celebrations in Saadnayel over Assad’s downfall were characterized by schadenfreude directed against the Shiites of Taalabaya. Posters of Ahmad al-Sharaa on car windows and jihadi songs fill the streets every now and then. Such practices could escalate into armed confrontations across regions of Lebanon.
More generally, religion does not drive politics and what takes place on the ground. However, local identity is already politicized, and as long as the situation in Syria remains unstable, the general mood in Lebanon will be charged and susceptible to mobilization based on perceptions of the self and of the other. This is what we need to watch out for.
Read the full interview here.
In this episode, we highlight the Women Researchers Fellowship, an initiative by the X-Border Local Research Network that supports early-career female researchers in conflict-affected border regions across Asia, MENA, and the Horn of Africa. The fellows share their research, the challenges they face in male-dominated fields, and the new networks they’ve built through the XCEPT programme. Listen as these six distinguished fellows discuss their areas of interest, offer insights into researching in conflict zones, and explore the contributions they aim to make in their fields.
The Research Fellows
Hilina Berhanu Degefa, Ethiopia
Women’s participation in non-state ethnic and ethno-national armed groups in Ethiopia with cross-border implications with Kenya and internal borders.
Htoo Htet Naing, Myanmar
Exploring aspirations and challenges:community perceptions of governance stability and peacebuilding in northern Rakhine states.
Moneera Yassien, Sudan
Use of quantitative methods to analyze the impact of localized conflict on cross-border trade on the Kenya-Uganda border.
Salma Daoudi, Morocco
Complexities of healthcare and impact on security and wellbeing of displaced Syrians on the Turkish-Syria border regions.
Ilyssa Yahmi, Algeria
Smuggling and conflict in the Sahara region in two-fold: Smuggling as a tool for rebel control and governance; and studying the relationship between human smuggling and border securitization.
Faryak Khan, Pakistan
Exploring the peace and conflict nexus in new emerged tribal districts in Pakistan especially in the northwestern border with Afghanistan.
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,
Sierra Leone’s civil war (1991-2002) was brutal. Reports of ‘savagery’ were not simply displays of rhetoric.[i] Alongside an estimated 75,000 casualties, thousands were subjected to amputations, mutilations, and sexual violence.[ii] Atrocities were committed by all sides, but the amputations carried out by the rebel group Revolutionary United Front (RUF) became emblematic of the suffering inflicted on civilians.
In some cases, the violence of the war was so extreme it seemed to defy reason, but there was one explanation that captured the attention, and the imagination, of the international community: diamonds. A mindless lust for wealth could explain acts of ‘bewildering cruelty’, but a desire for diamonds could also be explained by a ‘rational’ need to finance the war.[iii] The popular link between diamonds and violence is neatly summed up in the 2006 film Blood Diamond, when Jennifer Connelly’s character says, ‘the people back home wouldn’t buy a ring if they knew it cost someone else their hand.’ The reality is, of course, more complex.
Greedy criminals
Given the seemingly inexplicable brutality of the conflict, a prominent school of thought sought to explain the violence by arguing that civil wars were a breakdown of the normal order. As the war began, social, moral, psychological, and political constraints were removed, and, in a ‘vortex of anarchy and lawlessness’, individuals used violence ‘in the service of gratifying their innate human lust for power and material wealth’.[iv] Perpetrators of extreme violence were written off as greedy criminals, who wanted only one thing: wealth. This argument has now been widely discredited. One issue is that it assumes that all those committing violence were inherently greedy, and, as Dr Yusuf Bangura observed, it is also ‘deeply flawed’ to assume ‘rational actions cannot be barbaric’.[v]
If a desire for diamonds motivated acts of atrocity, this could instead be explained by the argument that violence was used strategically as part of a wider campaign of terror to gain, and protect, access to the country’s diamond mining fields. Human Rights Watch reported numerous instances where civilians were abducted and subjected to forced labour in diamond mines, while accounts from the conflict tell of the Sierra Leone Army (SLA) torturing civilians who impeded their access to diamonds.[vi]
Brutality beyond greed
But if greed or economic gain were the cause of the violence, then why were acts committed that went beyond achieving these goals? Some instances of violence were so shocking that it seems unlikely they were motivated solely by a desire to extract the stones.[vii] Even if these fed into a wider strategy of terror, it is hard to believe, as Dr Kieran Mitton argues in his book on the atrocities of the civil war, that this was the main cause of the brutality, rather than ‘the consummatory rewards of violence itself’.[viii]
Status and shame
Feelings of shame amongst the perpetrators could explain why some committed extreme violence. The origins of the civil war have been linked to grievances around uneven development, and a lack of access to education, employment, and resources. Many who joined the RUF, whether voluntarily or by force, were from communities who had been increasingly marginalised. A desire to reverse the status-quo could therefore explain acts of violence committed by teenage fighters against local ‘big men’ and those in positions of power.[ix] Status could also be gained in committing sexual violence; ex-combatants reported that ‘those who participated in rape … were seen to be more courageous, valiant, and brave than their peers’.[x]
Atrocities may also have helped to redress feelings of shame that rebel recruits experienced upon capture when they were subjected to violence and humiliation.[xi] Carrying out dehumanising and degrading acts against others could have been a way for rebels to transfer their own feelings onto their victims. One woman, for example, recounted an experience she and her son endured at the hands of rebels which seemed to serve no purpose other than to humiliate.[xii]
Professor David Keen also argues that extreme violence seems to have been used to eliminate ‘the threat of shame’ in any civilians seen to be embodying it.[xiii] For example, if victims begged for mercy, this could lead to feelings of shame and guilt in the perpetrators. When fighters were faced with pleas for compassion, therefore, this could explain why they responded with further violence, as if they wanted to extinguish the moral judgement they perceived in the cries of their victims. This argument would also explain times onlookers were forced to laugh and clap as atrocities were carried out, as if the perpetrators were compelling approval of their actions.[xiv]
Dehumanisation and disgust
Violence that aimed to reverse or remove feelings of shame could also have been shaped by the emotion of disgust. The RUF claimed from the outset that it was fighting to cleanse society of its ‘rotten’ and corrupt elements, and instances of brutality may have been provoked by a belief among the rebels that their enemies were disgusting and sub-human. Similarly, a belief among the RUF’s enemies that the rebels were beasts and bush devils in turn could explain the use of extreme violence against them.[xv]
But, in the eyes of the perpetrators, the use of gratuitous violence could not only be justified against those seen to be inhuman, it could also be used to render victims sub-human. Amputations and ‘messy’ mutilations, for example, turned victims into ‘the disgusting beings they were supposed to be’.[xvi] There is an argument in the psychology literature that dehumanisation plays more of a role in ‘instrumental’ violence, where the violence is a means to an end, and less in ‘moral’ violence, where the violence can be justified as punishment or retribution.[xvii] By denying victims their humanity, extreme violence was instrumental in two ways. The perpetrators could reinforce the need for violence, and so justify their cause. At the same time, they could also rid themselves of the shame associated with carrying out this violence. Disgust was both a driver and an outcome of atrocities.
Fear
Threading throughout motivations of shame and disgust is the presence of fear: fear of contamination, fear of shame, and fear of moral judgement. Given that so many RUF combatants were forcibly recruited, it is logical to assume fear could in some part explain the cause of atrocities. Testimonies from ex-combatants highlight the role this played in motivating acts of violence.[xviii] Although such accounts could have been given in an attempt to minimise personal responsibility, most RUF combatants did not join voluntarily, and, given the brutalisation process which the group subjected its recruits to, it is clear that violent behaviours were something that had to be taught and enforced.[xix] One boy who was abducted by the RUF aged 15 said ‘when you are captured, you have to change or you become a dead man’.[xx]
Despite the popular link, diamonds on their own do not give a clear-cut explanation for the extreme violence carried out during Sierra Leone’s civil war. Feelings of revenge, fear, disgust, shame, and pride all undoubtedly played a role, while other factors, such as drug use and brutalisation, also deserve attention. To try to explain the atrocities of the civil war is not to try to justify them, but, if we can increase our understanding of what drives people to commit extreme violence, practitioners and policymakers will be better equipped to prevent and address such acts in the future.
[i] Dowden, R. (1995, January 31). Sierra Leone savagery rips nation apart. The Independent. https://www.independent.co.uk/news/sierra-leone-savagery-rips-nation-apart-1570525.html
[ii] Hoffman, D. (2004). The Civilian Target in Sierra Leone and Liberia: Political Power, Military Strategy, and Humanitarian Intervention. African Affairs, 103(411), 211-226. https://doi.org/10.1093/afraf/adh025
[iii] Gberie, L. (2005). A Dirty War in West Africa: The RUF and the Destruction of Sierra Leone. Hurst & Company.
[iv] Mitton, K. (2015). Rebels in a Rotten State. Oxford University Press.
[v] Bangura, Y. (2004). The Political and Cultural Dynamics of the Sierra Leone War: A Critique of Paul Richards. In I. Abdullah (Ed.), Between Democracy and Terror: The Sierra Leone Civil War (pp. 13-40). Council for the Development of Social Science Research in Africa.
[vi] Human Rights Watch. (2001). World Report 2001: Sierra Leone. Accessed at: https://www.hrw.org/legacy/wr2k1/africa/sierraleone.html; Truth and Reconciliation Commission, Sierra Leone (TRC). (2004). Witness to Truth: Report of the Sierra Leone Truth and Reconciliation Commission (Volume 3B). Accessed at: https://www.sierraleonetrc.org/
[vii] Human Rights Watch. (2003, January 16). “We’ll Kill You If You Cry”: Sexual Violence in the Sierra Leone Conflict. Human Rights Watch report 15(1) (A). https://www.hrw.org/report/2003/01/16/well-kill-you-if-you-cry/sexual-violence-sierra-leone-conflict
[viii] Mitton, K. (2015). Rebels in a Rotten State. Oxford University Press.
[ix] Keen, D. (1998). The Economic Functions of Violence in Civil Wars (Special Issue). Adelphi Papers, 38(320), 1-89.
[x] Cohen, D. K. (2013). Female Combatants and the Perpetration of Violence: Wartime Rape in the Sierra Leone Civil War. World Politics, 65(3), 383–415. https://doi.org/10.1017/S0043887113000105
[xi] Mitton, K. (2015). Rebels in a Rotten State. Oxford University Press.
[xii] Truth and Reconciliation Commission, Sierra Leone (TRC). (2004). Witness to Truth: Report of the Sierra Leone Truth and Reconciliation Commission (Volume 3B). Accessed at: https://www.sierraleonetrc.org/
[xiii] Keen, D. (2005). Conflict & Collusion in Sierra Leone. James Currey.
[xiv] Human Rights Watch. (1999, July). Getting Away with Murder, Mutilation, Rape: New Testimony from Sierra Leone. Human Rights Watch report 11(3) (A). https://www.hrw.org/reports/1999/sierra/index.htm
[xv] Mitton, K. (2015). Rebels in a Rotten State. Oxford University Press.
[xvi] Mitton, K. (2015). Rebels in a Rotten State. Oxford University Press.
[xvii] Brudholm, T., & Lang, J. (2021). On hatred and dehumanization. In M. Kronfeldner (Ed.), The Routledge handbook of dehumanization (pp. 341–354). Routledge/Taylor & Francis Group. https://doi.org/10.4324/9780429492464-chapter22
[xviii] Coulter, C. (2008). Female Fighters in the Sierra Leone War: Challenging the Assumptions? Feminist Review, 88(1), 54–73. https://doi.org/10.1057/palgrave.fr.9400385; Denov, M. S. (2010). Child soldiers: Sierra Leone’s Revolutionary United Front. Cambridge University Press; Gberie, L. (2005). A Dirty War in West Africa: The RUF and the Destruction of Sierra Leone. Hurst & Company.
[xix] Humphreys, M., & Weinstein, J. M. (2004, July). What the Fighters Say: A Survey of Ex-Combatants in Sierra Leone June-August 2003. Accessed at: http://www.columbia.edu/~mh2245/Report1_BW.pdf; Mitton, K. (2015). Rebels in a Rotten State. Oxford University Press.
[xx] Keen, D. (2005). Conflict & Collusion in Sierra Leone. James Currey.
