Humanitarian Deadlock in Northeastern Syria ?

Residents of the Sahlat al Banat camp lining up in front of the tent. © Juliette Elie

Under the already heavy sun of a September morning, about fifty people wait among the dusty tents of the Sahlat al Banat camp in northeastern Syria. As the vehicle arrives, a murmur rises in front of the tent: everyone pleads their case, hoping to be registered on the list of one hundred medical consultations scheduled for the coming days.

Since 2018, more than 2,000 families have taken refuge on the outskirts of the vast landfill site of Raqqa. From the towns of Deir ez-Zor or Maadan, they fled successive offensives that put an end to several years of Islamic State control. Over time, shelters have multiplied: as far as the eye can see, sheets of fabric, blankets, and tarpaulins—sometimes marked with the UNHCR logo—bear witness to the gradual withdrawal of humanitarian aid. A heavy odor hangs over the camp, a mix of waste and burning plastic that clings to the air and to the clothes. Here, children sort through mountains of garbage, searching for pieces of metal they can sell for a few cents. For many, it is the only means of survival.

Naji Al Matrood, teacher with the NGO Solinfo. © Juliette Elie

For several years now, we at SOLINFO have been running psychosocial support workshops for about a hundred children every month. For an hour or two, they can escape their daily lives and simply be children again—no longer worrying about how many scraps of metal they collected or how many Syrian pounds they managed to earn. Under this tent, teacher Naji Al Matrood constantly imagines new ways to capture the children’s attention and restore to them the lightness of their age.

My role as a doctor and the association’s medical coordinator strengthens this support by providing both medical care and preventive action, including hygiene awareness sessions and the distribution of kits containing essential items: toothbrush, toothpaste, soap, nail clippers, and disinfectant solution.

These moments spent with the children also reveal the daily lives of the men and women living in an extremely degraded environment. The dust and the smell permeate everything. The children often arrive barefoot, their clothes dirty or torn. The most common diseases tell their own story: scabies, diarrhea, and malnutrition are almost constant.

We conducted a nutritional survey of one hundred children in the camp, and the results are alarming: more than half show signs of undernutrition—53%, one third of them severely malnourished and two thirds moderately. In concrete terms, this means that most of the children examined are not growing normally: their weight is insufficient for their height or age, which can lead to bone fragility, developmental delays, edema, and greater vulnerability to infections. These data confirm the seriousness of the situation and illustrate the lack of sustainable nutritional programs in the region.

Children of the Sahlat al Banat camp © Juliette Elie

Dangerous Budget Cuts for Relief Efforts

These figures are not an exception; they reflect a broader reality—the humanitarian deadlock in northeastern Syria. Since early 2025, budget restrictions decided by Washington have led to the suspension of many USAID-funded programs. In practice, numerous international NGOs have seen their funding cut by 40%, forcing them to reduce staff and scale down their projects in the region.

On the ground, the consequences are visible: many NGOs have withdrawn, projects have been halted, and staff remain in limbo. Local NGOs are trying to compensate for the absence of international actors, but they lack the logistical and financial means that previously gave strength to the humanitarian apparatus. This paradigm shift now highlights the responsibility of the Autonomous Administration of North and East Syria (AANES), which finds itself alone in front of camps it can neither manage nor close.

In this fragmented humanitarian landscape, Damascus is gradually regaining control, starting with the administrative level: from now on, all UN agencies must submit their project proposals to the Syrian government before any field action. At the same time, international NGOs wishing to collaborate with the United Nations must register with the Ministry of Foreign Affairs, an obligatory step to obtain legal authorization to operate. This ministry imposes long, redundant, and sometimes arbitrary procedures.

Local NGOs, for their part, are subject to a similar process: they must obtain registration with the Ministry of Social Affairs, which reviews their statutes and funding sources. This supervision allows the government to filter and channel aid toward the areas it deems a priority.

Despite these constraints, the Health Authority Office (HAO)—the AANES’s health body—tries to maintain a parallel coordination system. Acting as a “Ministry of Health,” it manages hospitals, primary health centers, and coordinates humanitarian activities of both international and local NGOs to best respond to the population’s needs.

Beyond the humanitarian emergency, northeastern Syria has for several months been awaiting negotiations between the new government led by Ahmed Al Charaa and the Autonomous Administration of North and East Syria. In early October, several meetings took place, driven by U.S. efforts to maintain a fragile balance between their Kurdish allies and a Syrian regime seeking regional normalization.

Like the Druze and Alawite communities, Kurdish representatives appear to be advocating for a federal modelguaranteeing administrative, cultural, and security autonomy. Damascus, on the other hand, favors the establishment of a centralized state and the integration of the various armed groups.

During my mission, clashes broke out in Aleppo’s Kurdish neighborhoods of Ashrafieh and Sheikh Maqsoud, opposing local units to pro-government factions. On October 8, a ceasefire was negotiated between the two parties, restoring a fragile calm to the city. These episodes reflect the fragility of coexistence between the regime and Kurdish forces and recall the community violence recently inflicted on the Druze and Alawites.

Even within Kurdish circles, opinions diverge. Some express cautious optimism, seeing a chance for recognition or even the promise of a federal state. Others, more disillusioned, fear renewed conflict, the disenchantment of a people exhausted by war. “Talks will never succeed as long as Damascus remains torn both internally and by its foreign sponsors,” says a local official in Qamishli.

Hope for Peace Above All

On the ground, this political stalemate is ever-present and translates into constant security fragility. Roads are closed or blocked by makeshift checkpoints; local partners tell rumors of attacks, kidnappings, and revenge killings—all of which contribute to the population’s sense of insecurity. The fear of the Islamic State still lingers in some villages where sporadic attacks occur.

Yet, we encountered no incidents during our mission. Movements took place without hindrance, and the region remains relatively stable. This observation reveals a fragile stability, where life continues despite everything.

Northeastern Syria today is a humanitarian gray zone, where neither war nor peace truly prevails. International attention has turned elsewhere, cameras have moved on, and displaced populations—now invisible—are rarely mentioned. Yet life here remains marked by extreme precariousness. In Raqqa, the national hospital still stands, supported almost entirely by NGOs. Care is provided free of charge, allowing the population to access a minimal level of healthcare.

Like many humanitarian actors in the region, we work exclusively with local NGOs—the only ones who truly know the realities on the ground. Mustapha, our country director, and Driss, our project manager, embody this quiet resistance and remain committed despite the uncertainty weighing on the current political situation.

I will return soon to continue this modest but essential work for those who have nothing left—except the hope of peace above all.

Juliette Elie.

 

Medical Consultations in Sahlat al Banat

Docteur Juliette ELIE : 

After earning a doctorate in medicine from Université Paris Diderot and a master’s degree in research on inflammation and inflammatory diseases, Dr. Juliette Elie works as an associate practitioner at Necker–Enfants Malades Hospital in Paris.

She currently serves as a volunteer humanitarian doctor within the NGO SOLINFO, chaired by Edouard Lagourgue, where she oversees medical projects, particularly in the fields of nutrition, community health, and support to displaced populations.

Her commitment reflects an approach that combines scientific rigor, field action, and support for local actors to sustainably strengthen health capacities in crisis zones

 

CALL TO READERS

Défis Humanitaires is launching a collective reflection on the changes in the world that justify the evolution of the magazine and its layout. Thank you for:

Thank you for your commitment and loyalty to Défis Humanitaires.

A host of challenges for the humanitarian sector.

© WHO In February 2025, before the ceasefire broke down, Palestinians displaced in southern Gaza were returning en masse to the north of the enclave.

In this editorial, I seek to name and understand the upheavals currently underway.

This article is neither exhaustive nor definitive. Its aim is to explore new situations in order to adapt the humanitarian response. It draws on numerous sources.
As we did before with our series of articles “humanitarian questions”, I invite you to join the debate by sending us your testimonies, analyses, and perspectives at contact@defishumanitaires.com

Challenges converging.
A change of era.

We are experiencing a decisive shift in the political and geopolitical era—some even call it civilizational. Whatever one thinks, populism is advancing globally in various forms, accompanying the collapse of the international order established after the Second World War.

This includes the rise and assertion of power by Russia, China, Turkey, and the Global South in all its diversity. As Giuliano da Empoli said, “Trump is not a historical accident or a fit of madness—we are tipping into a new world.” What is this new world, and what will be the role and place of humanitarian action within it?

BRICS meeting in Kazan, Russia, from 22 to 24 October 2024

Aid funding in decline!

The funding of international humanitarian aid is a reliable indicator of trends and the priorities of UN member states. And funding is collapsing—no one knows when or how it will stabilize. It’s easy and somewhat fair to blame the abrupt freeze on all aid by the Trump administration and the dismantling of USAID.

However, many European countries were ahead of the United States with massive budget cuts—in the UK, Germany, France, the Netherlands, Belgium, and almost everywhere else to varying degrees, with the exception of the European Union.

Official Development Assistance (ODA), OECD

The reasons vary depending on whether we’re talking about humanitarian aid or development assistance, which fall under Official Development Assistance (ODA). Beyond doubts about aid effectiveness and the rising call for productive investments, the primary reason today is the priority placed on security in the face of the serious risk of the war in Ukraine spreading across Europe. The second reason lies in the state of public finances, national debt, and ongoing tariff wars. Defending one’s freedom, independence, and sovereignty has become a vital priority in the face of mounting threats.

With what consequences?

What will be the human and political consequences of dwindling humanitarian funding? According to OCHA, in 2025, 305.1 million people will require humanitarian aid, but only 189.5 million have been targeted across 72 countries to receive assistance estimated at $47.4 billion.

UNHCR Global Trends Report 2024, 9 October 2024.

However, in 2024, of a $49.6 billion budget, only $21.2 billion was raised—just 43% of the required amount! What will 2025 look like with ODA in free fall?

Among these at-risk populations were 122.6 million forcibly displaced people as of June 2024. Recall: 51.23 million in 2013, 89.27 million in 2021—and the numbers are expected to continue rising. Will we abandon internally displaced people and refugees? What will be the human, migratory, and political fallout from such disengagement?

For instance, in the Democratic Republic of Congo, insufficient funding forced the shutdown of a severe malnutrition treatment program for 220,000 children under 5.

UNICEF DRC Dubourthoumieu

2024 was the deadliest year for humanitarians, with 281 killed—63% in Gaza and the West Bank, mostly nationals. Will we now say to humanitarians: “Take the risks, you’re on your own”?

As a French citizen, I am personally convinced
that we must prepare for a possible expansion of the war in Ukraine in order to contain it—and thus secure peace. And if this does not prevent war from being imposed on us, then we must declare it, fight it, and win it.

What I fail to understand is this: in a world where military budgets total $2.4 trillion, and banking sector profits stand at $1.1 trillion, how is it not possible to find $47 billion to save lives, stabilize countries, and revive development and trade that benefit everyone?

Short-sighted selfishness will catch up with us—and cost even more!

Ukraine and the return of war.

Since February 24, 2022, the war in Ukraine has shattered the principle of inviolable borders and shown that war is once again a conceivable means of resolving conflict. It has killed and wounded hundreds of thousands of Ukrainians, displaced millions, and destroyed much of the country and its infrastructure—not to mention Russian losses. The war consumes enormous resources, yet they remain insufficient from Ukraine’s allies.

I’m not convinced we truly grasp the risks and consequences of a potential expansion of this conflict to other frontline countries in Europe—and possibly to us through a domino effect! Let’s be clear-eyed: Vladimir Putin has declared a long-term war against us, supported, tolerated, or ignored by many Global South nations. And if Donald Trump chooses to end U.S. support for Ukraine, the risk of war in Europe would only grow. European countries, however, are not yet prepared for such a scenario. Let’s hope it never comes to pass and that a ceasefire, then a settlement, brings this war to an end.

Yet even if full-scale war isn’t certain, it’s entirely possible. Some experts believe it has already begun—through cyberattacks, propaganda, disinformation, rearmament, and a mobilization of public will. How will humanitarian actors respond to this threat? What could they do if war comes to Europe? What would happen to humanitarian principles of humanity, impartiality, and independence in such a scenario?

And what about Europe?

Among the world’s top three humanitarian donors, along with the U.S. and Germany (which has slashed much of its aid budget), the European Union remains. At the recent European Humanitarian Forum (EHF) on May 19–20 in Brussels, the European Commission appeared to reassure humanitarian actors—yet never addressed the “elephant in the room”: shrinking budgets.

The agenda was technically sound: ongoing crises, cooperation, coordination, humanitarian diplomacy, the nexus, national actors, climate impact. But it deliberately avoided tackling the decline in ODA and its consequences for humanitarian work. Business as usual! Nevertheless, voices such as VOICE on these issues, UNRWA on Gaza, and informal hallway conversations raised the alarm.

Ursula von der Leyen confirmed the DG ECHO humanitarian budget of €2.5 billion, including the emergency aid reserve (€580 million), in line with the 2021–2027 Multiannual Financial Framework (€11.569 trillion).

This framework is truly strategic, and discussions are beginning for the 2028–2035 cycle.

Here lies the decisive issue! Given the budgetary constraints of EU member states, will the Commission’s budget be sufficient—and how will it be allocated?

Former EU Humanitarian Commissioner Janez Lenarčič rightly emphasized the need for assertive humanitarian diplomacy to preserve humanitarian space, which must now address the question of funding—without which, access to at-risk populations is impossible.

The current Commissioner, Hadja Lahbib, set out a roadmap: We must focus on two areas: first, increase funding, broaden the donor base, and work more efficiently. Second, we must reduce humanitarian needs, often caused by conflict and climate crises.

UNRIC. During the session on the Middle East, attended by Hadja Lahbib, European Commissioner, and Philippe Lazzarini, Director of UNRWA, at the European Humanitarian Forum on 20 May 2025 in Brussels.

I fully support this—but we must reframe the European humanitarian issue within the broader challenges the EU faces: internal cohesion, the war in Ukraine and its potential expansion, trade wars with the U.S. and China, and weak, naïve governance amid a world reverting to jungle law. The Europe of nation-states cannot avoid a political aggiornamento (renewal) if it wishes to defend its very existence and role.

The UN in turmoil.

Donald Trump’s early decisions confirmed the decline of globalization and multilateralism, shaking the UN—which is being forced to adapt. Payment delays by the U.S., China, and others threaten a potential $1.1 billion deficit by year-end.

To mark the UN’s 80th anniversary, António Guterres launched the H80—or UN80—initiative in March 2025 to urgently reform the organization amid falling funding.

The UN must now cut costs, consolidate its agencies into four clusters—peace and security, humanitarian affairs, sustainable development, and human rights—reduce its workforce by 20%, and relocate to more affordable cities. This real austerity drive will have operational consequences yet to be fully grasped.

OCHA is contributing with its “Humanitarian Reset” led by Tom Fletcher, launched March 10 and based on a 10-point reform. In brief: prioritizing national actors, context-specific adaptation, prioritization planning, integrated reforms, joint advocacy, bold efficiency measures, field redeployment for emergencies, resource and service pooling, simplified clusters, and a more strategic, high-performing “integrated planning framework.”

Necessity dictates—but what are the consequences for aid and for national and international humanitarian actors who must prepare for these shocks?

While we now know OCHA’s “humanitarian reset,” what about NGOs in their diversity and coordination mechanisms? How will they come through this ordeal?

Humanitarian strengths and weaknesses.

Let’s begin with a brief—too brief—introspection of the humanitarian sector, which we too rarely undertake. But now is the time to dig deeper, both in its flaws and strengths, to reshape humanitarian action for this new world.

Humanitarians often see themselves as belonging to the “good” side, judging others from a perceived moral high ground. They also tend to see nations, empires, or ethnic communities through the lens of NGOs—a grave mistake.

Humanitarians view the world as one global humanity, which is true—but without sufficiently recognizing its diversity, which is both a richness and a source of differences.

Above all, humanitarian action is an existential act to aid any person or population in peril. This cross-border solidarity is more relevant than ever. Humanitarianism isn’t the answer to everything—but without it, what would be the daily fate of those in danger? Every day, around 550,000 humanitarians work to assist 190 million people—men, women, and children—who actively contribute to mutual aid as fellow human beings.

The greatest frustration and limitation of humanitarian work is the inability to help everyone in urgent need. Obstacles abound—from access denial to falling funding.

Crises abound—in the DRC, the Sahel, Yemen, Ukraine, Sudan, Haiti, and Gaza, the latter being the horrifying emblem of the unthinkable becoming routine.

Why did pediatrician Alaa Al-Najjar lose nine of her ten children—Yahya, Rakan, Eve, Jubran, Raslan, Rifan, Sidine, Louqman, and 7-month-old Sidra—in a single airstrike on May 24 in Khan Younis? Only her husband and one child survived. Why?

With its pogrom on October 7, 2023, and the abduction of 251 hostages, Hamas triggered a spiral of endless violence with Israel. As of April 30, 2025: 52,400 deaths (including combatants), 118,014 wounded. By the end of 2024, 87% of housing was damaged or destroyed, over 80% of businesses lost, and two-thirds of roads unusable! As if that weren’t enough, a full humanitarian blockade was imposed on March 2, 2025. Famine is now weaponized—violating international law.

To calm international outrage and limit aid diversion by Hamas or gangs, Israel bypassed competent humanitarian organizations in favor of an ad hoc body: the Humanitarian Foundation for Gaza. Its first distributions ended in chaos, death, and injury.

These ongoing destructions and the blockade seem aimed at the deportation of all or part of Gaza’s population. What do we call that? Is a political solution still possible? Let’s hope the upcoming meeting on Palestine at the UN General Assembly in New York (June 17–20), co-organized by France and Saudi Arabia, will answer that.

In conclusion.

As we publish issue 100 of the Défis Humanitaires online journal, current events reaffirm its value to the humanitarian community and its partners by:

  • Promoting humanitarian action

  • Analyzing the cause-effect link between geopolitics and humanitarianism

  • Documenting the major challenges ahead

Défis Humanitaires is read each month in dozens of countries by thousands of people whom we warmly greet here, with a wish to be useful to their work.

But we also need their support and participation to do more and better. To that end, we invite you to:

  • Fill out the journal’s feedback questionnaire

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Thank you for your attention, your loyalty, and your support.

Alain Boinet

I invite you to read the articles published in this issue: