War has long been framed in terms of human suffering, political turmoil, and economic ruin. Civilian casualties, refugee crises, and shattered infrastructure dominate headlines. Yet, amid this visible devastation lies a quieter but equally devastating truth: Nature too becomes a casualty of war.
Forests fall to fire, rivers are choked with waste, and entire ecosystems collapse in silence. The destruction of the environment during and after conflicts is not collateral damage; it is systemic, strategic, and alarmingly under-addressed.
The scars that war leaves on landscapes are not just aesthetic. They disrupt food systems, poison water sources, and displace wildlife. They erode the very foundations on which human survival depends. And, these wounds often outlast any political resolution, embedding themselves into the soil, air, and water for generations.
Today, the scale of global conflict is unprecedented. In the past two years alone, more than 180 armed conflicts were recorded, with nearly 150 million people forcibly displaced. While this human suffering is profound, it is accompanied by ecological damage that is rarely counted, let alone repaired. As climate change accelerates, the destruction of ecosystems through warfare is not just a symptom of human conflict; it is a driver of future instability.
To understand this overlooked dimension of war, we must explore a growing global conversation.The concept of ecocide.
What is ecocide?
In a world where war crimes are increasingly scrutinised, there remains one glaring omission in international law. The crime against nature itself. Ecocide, the large-scale, deliberate destruction of the environment, has long existed in practice, but only recently has it begun to gain traction as a prosecutable offence.
Coined during the Vietnam War, the term was used to describe the catastrophic ecological destruction caused by the United States’ (US) use of herbicides like Agent Orange. Over a 10-year period, these chemicals ravaged forests, poisoned soil and water, and created lasting public health crises. What occurred was not incidental; it was strategic environmental annihilation.
Modern definitions of ecocide, such as those proposed by the Independent Expert Panel for the Legal Definition of Ecocide, emphasise “unlawful or wanton acts” committed with knowledge that the consequences will be “severe and either widespread or long-term.” Importantly, this framework aims to differentiate between lawful industrial activity and reckless, irreversible harm to ecosystems.
Legal scholars like Polly Higgins and Barry Weisberg have expanded the definition to include peacetime ecocide like deforestation or mining that destroys ecosystems, but, wartime examples remain some of the clearest, and most brutal, demonstrations. Despite this clarity, ecocide still lacks recognition under the Rome Statute, the very document that defines crimes against humanity. This legal vacuum leaves entire ecosystems vulnerable during conflict, allowing destruction without accountability.
From scorched forests to poisoned rivers, the environmental consequences of war are as real as any battlefield casualty. History is littered with examples where nature has suffered as deeply as human populations, often by design.
During the Vietnam War, the US military sprayed more than 73 million litres of chemical defoliants like Agent Orange over rainforests and agricultural lands. The goal was tactical visibility to strip away tree cover used by Viet Cong forces and destroy food supplies. The result? Over 50% of Vietnam’s coastal mangroves were obliterated. These ecosystems, home to tigers, elephants, and other wildlife, never recovered. The soil was rendered infertile, biodiversity collapsed, and generations of children were born with deformities linked to chemical exposure.
In the 1991 Gulf War, retreating Iraqi forces set fire to over 600 Kuwaiti oil wells. The infernos released more than 500,000 metric tonnes of pollutants daily. Black smoke choked the skies for months, acidifying rain and damaging the respiratory health of people hundreds of kilometers away. The Persian Gulf, once rich in marine life, saw drastic population declines due to oil spills and heat.
Recent wars reveal a disturbing continuity. In Ukraine, landmines, shelling, and forest fires have rendered vast landscapes toxic. In Gaza, war has crippled waste management systems, polluted soil and aquifers, and generated hazardous debris laced with asbestos and explosives. Public health data shows a rise in respiratory diseases and diarrheal outbreaks, especially among children.
Even smaller-scale conflicts bring grave consequences. During the Rwandan civil war, refugees settled near the Virunga National Park, leading to massive deforestation. Over 1,000 tonnes of wood were cut daily. Once home to 30,000 hippos and rich biodiversity, the Park’s ecosystem was left teetering on collapse.
Sri Lanka too bears deep and lasting environmental scars from its decades-long conflicts. Vast areas of jungle were cleared to make way for military camps and combat zones, while critical ecosystems, particularly wetlands and mangroves in the Northern and Eastern Provinces, suffered from unregulated resource extraction and prolonged neglect. In the post-war period, landmine contamination has further delayed ecological restoration, leaving many natural habitats fragmented, degraded, and increasingly vulnerable.
The carbon cost of conflicts
War pollutes long before the first shot is fired. The machinery of conflict training exercises, fuel-related demands, and the infrastructure required to sustain armed forces place immense pressure on the environment. Collectively, wars contribute significantly to global emissions and ecological degradation, yet, their environmental toll is often overlooked.
For example, during peacetime operations alone, the US Department of Defense consumed enough fuel in 2017 to emit 59 million tonnes of carbon dioxide, more than some entire countries. In the United Kingdom, military-related activities are estimated to account for nearly half the country’s total emissions, a figure rarely factored into climate reporting.
Despite their impact, emissions linked to conflict remain largely absent from climate agreements like the Paris Accord and the Kyoto Protocol, often excluded under national security clauses.
And, it is not just about emissions. Armed conflicts destroy oil refineries, ignite chemical fires, and leave behind toxic contamination. In 2006, the bombing of Lebanon’s Jiyeh power plant spilled over 15,000 tonnes of oil into the Mediterranean Sea, killing marine life and staining coastlines for miles.
From fuel emissions to long-term ecological ruin, war leaves a trail of destruction that extends far beyond the battlefield and yet, its environmental cost remains dangerously invisible.
Why have we failed to act?
Despite the mounting evidence of environmental devastation caused by warfare, legal frameworks remain stubbornly human-centered. The Geneva Conventions, cornerstones of international humanitarian law, offer protections for civilians, prisoners, and combatants, but little for forests, rivers, or wildlife. The environment, in legal terms, is still seen as a backdrop, not a stakeholder.
One of the key barriers is the absence of binding international laws that classify environmental destruction as a crime on par with genocide or war crimes. Though proposals have emerged to include ecocide in the Rome Statute of the International Criminal Court, progress has been slow. Political reluctance, lobbying by powerful states, and disagreement over definitions have all contributed to the deadlock.
There is also a deep research and awareness gap. While scholars document economic and human tolls of war extensively, far fewer studies explore its ecological consequences in depth. Post-conflict recovery efforts rarely prioritise environmental restoration, often focusing instead on infrastructure, governance, and humanitarian aid. By the time nature is considered, the damage is often already irreversible.
Moreover, accountability is elusive. In many cases, the destruction of ecosystems is strategic, used as a weapon of war to displace populations or destroy livelihoods. Yet, prosecuting these acts is rare, if not impossible. Without legal teeth or public pressure, perpetrators walk free while forests fall and rivers die.
Until the environment is treated as a victim with rights and not just scenery in the theatre of war, true justice will remain out of reach. If war is humanity’s failure, then the destruction of nature is its most enduring betrayal. But, it does not have to end this way. A global call for justice is rising. One that demands that we no longer see environmental devastation as collateral damage, but recognise it as a crime. The question now: Will the world act before it is too late?
(The writer is an electronics engineer with a background in information technology and sustainability)
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The views and opinions expressed in this article are those of the author, and do not necessarily reflect those of this publication.