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landmines
Clearing the Ground Beneath Our Feet: Why Demining Is the Ultimate Environmental Act
This Earth Month, as we reflect on the power we hold, we should recognize that some of the most profound acts of environmental stewardship begin not with planting or preservation, but with making the ground safe enough to stand on.
Apr 29, 2026
During the 1960s, America was deep in the throes of the US War in Vietnam. In addition to student protests of the war, there were also “teach-ins”—gatherings that questioned not just the war, but the systems behind it, on campuses all across the country. This anti-war movement inspired the start of another; the fight for environmental protection, giving birth to Earth Month in 1970.
Earth Month is not only a moment of reflection about sustainability and the protection of the environment; it is a test of what we choose to do with what we know. This year’s theme, “Our Power, Our Planet,” asks us to consider where power truly lives. In Laos and Ukraine, the answer is clear: It lives in the land and its people.
Land feeds families and shapes culture. It determines whether a child grows up with stability or scarcity. In Laos, more than 70% of the population depends on agriculture. Golden green glutinous, or “sticky,” rice fields stretch across the country, joined by cassava, coffee, and vegetables that sustain both households and local markets. In Ukraine, fertile black soil has long made the country a cornerstone of the global food system, feeding more than 400 million people through exports of wheat, corn, barley, and sunflower seed.
In both countries, the land carries a hidden burden.
Safe land means farmers can plant without fear, invest in their futures, and pass on their livelihoods to the next generation.
Between 1964 and 1973, the US dropped at least 2.5 million tons of ordnance on Laos, with nearly a third failing to detonate. Today, unexploded ordnance litters every province, leaving a quarter of villages affected. Fertile ground is laced with danger.
Ukraine is now becoming all too familiar with this reality. Over four years into Russia’s full-scale invasion, over a quarter of its land is estimated to be contaminated with explosive remnants of war. Just like in Laos, their legacy will endure for generations.
For farmers, this threat is daily life.
In Ukraine, images circulate of tractors moving steadily through fields under gray skies, in rain, even under fire. There is a kind of grim humor in the idea that farmers will cultivate their land no matter the obstacle. Beneath the dark humor of those internet memes is a gritty determination to survive.
In Laos, that risk has been a constant for decades.
Mae Tao Seesom was just in her early 20s during the war in Laos. She remembers having to hide in caves to avoid danger. Unable to farm their land, she and fellow villagers had to harvest what grew in the forest.
Decades after the war, in 2019, Mae Tao Seesom was cooking for her grandchildren when a cluster bomb exploded under her fire. Luckily, no one was injured. This time.
In Ukraine, Oksana Lukiyanchuk’s newly inherited farm is only 35 kilometers from the front lines; she moved to her own farm in 2021 to generate a livelihood for her young family and a legacy to pass on to her newborn son. Only months later, Russia invaded.
The war has drained her workforce; she now works her land with just one hired hand. Under constant threat of drones, Oksana continues to build her business; as a fifth-generation farmer, her ties to the soil here keep her from leaving. This sense of belonging emanates widely among Ukrainian farmers, and is the reason many continue to risk everything to grow on these front lines.
What lies beneath the soil does more than threaten lives; it constrains entire economies.
In Laos, farmers often avoid deep plowing or expanding irrigation for fear of what they might uncover. The result is lower yields and lost potential. Infrastructure—from roads to schools to clinics—cannot move forward without clearance. Decades after the last bombs fell, vast areas of land remain unused.
Ukraine now stands at the beginning of a similar economic struggle. Agriculture is one of its largest sectors, with consequences far beyond its borders. Smaller farms face labor shortages as workers are drawn into military service. Larger producers race to maintain supply chains under constant disruption.
Yet, this is not a story of helplessness. It is a story of leadership.
In Laos, unexploded ordnance clearance has become a national priority, embedded in its development strategy and backed by decades of commitment. Progress has been steady: Casualties have declined, and more land is made safe each year. National institutions, international organizations, and local communities work in concert, ensuring that clearance efforts reach those most in need.
In Ukraine, that same sense of urgency has taken root with remarkable speed. Organizations like Fondation Suisse de Déminage hire hundreds of explosive ordnance risk educators to meet farm staff where they are—at farmers markets, in schools, and on their land—to ensure everyone living in hazardous areas knows the threat of these weapons. As the country develops new landmine technology, this risk education saves lives now, and will remain necessary for decades on.
While the risks of demining are immediate, so are the returns.
Safe land means farmers can plant without fear, invest in their futures, and pass on their livelihoods to the next generation. It allows roads to be built, markets to grow, and communities to thrive. It restores not only productivity, but dignity.
This is why demining is not simply a humanitarian effort. It is one of the most direct and effective investments in development. It strengthens food systems, reduces poverty, and builds resilience all at once.
It is also achievable.
The experience of Laos shows that progress, while gradual, is real. With sustained commitment, improved technology, and strong partnerships, contamination can be reduced, lives can be saved, and land can be returned to those who depend on it.
Ukraine’s future is not yet written. But the path ahead is clearer because others have walked it before.
If land is life, then clearing land is renewal.
This Earth Month, as we reflect on the power we hold, we should recognize that some of the most profound acts of environmental stewardship begin not with planting or preservation, but with making the ground safe enough to stand on.
In Laos and Ukraine, that work is already underway—unceasingly, by the people, and with extraordinary courage.
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'Heinous Weapons': Evidence Reveals US May Be Dropping Landmines on Iran
“If confirmed, US military use of its Gator mine scattering system causing civilian deaths and injuries shows exactly why decades of work to ban these weapons cannot be undone,” said one advocate.
Mar 27, 2026
Nearly four months after the Trump administration reversed a Biden-era ban on the use of land mines—and two decades after the weapons were last used by the US—images taken in southern Iran indicate the US military has deployed its its Gator Scatterable Mine system in residential areas, killing at least one person and putting residents at risk for years to come, even after the US-Israeli war on Iran ends.
Iranian media posted images online earlier this week of what it called "explosive packages dropped by American planes in Shiraz," the fifth-most populous city in Iran.
The open source investigative group Bellingcat reported Thursday that the images appeared to show US-made Gator anti-tank mines. The US is the only country involved in the war on Iran, which it started alongside Israel on February 28, known to possess Gator Scatterable Mines.
The Gator system is an "air-delivered dispenser system," Bellingcat reported, that distributes mines over an area nearly half a mile wide. They can dispense up to 94 BLU-92/B antipersonnel and BLU-91/B antitank mines.
N.R. Jenzen Jones, director of Armament Research Services, told Bellingcat that the images appeared to be antitank land mines.
Another expert, Amael Kotlarski of open source intelligence company Janes, said antipersonnel land mines at not "observable in the photographic evidence presented so far," but "this could be that they have not been found."
The two mines used by the Gator system, like other land mines and cluster munitions, can fail to properly explode when they are deployed. They have self-destruct features that can go off within hours, days, or weeks of deployment, and can also explode if they are disturbed—as was reportedly the case when a man picked up one of the mines that had landed near his car, and was killed.
“While these land mines are meant to target armored vehicles, they can still be extremely dangerous to civilians,” Brian Castner, a weapons investigator with Amnesty International, told The Washington Post.
The US last used antipersonnel land mines in Afghanistan in 2002, and scatterable antitank land mines were last used during the Gulf War in 1991.
The US is one of the few countries that have not signed the Ottawa Convention, a 1997 international treaty banning the use of antipersonnel land mines, which killed nearly 2,000 people in 2024 and injured more than 4,300—a 9% increase over the previous year.
Ninety percent of those killed in 2024 were civilians, nearly half of whom were children.
In 2022, President Joe Biden announced the US would begin to follow many of the convention's provisions. But two years later he moved to allow their use in Ukraine, and Defense Secretary Pete Hegseth signed a memo in December allowing the use of the "inherently indiscriminate weapons," as one Amnesty International expert put it, in any conflict zone.
At the time, Tamar Gabelnick, director of the International Campaign to Ban Landmines, said that "by embracing these heinous weapons, the United States would be joining the ranks of countries like Russia and Myanmar, known for their blatant disregard for civilian safety in armed conflict.
Iranian media said "several" people have been killed by the mines dispensed across parts of southern Iran. The Iranian State News Agency said in a Telegram post that at least one person had been killed and others had been injured by “explosive packages that resemble cans." It urged locals to stay away from “any misshapen, deformed, or unusual metal cans" if they see them on the ground.
The Department of Defense did not respond to questions from the media regarding the reports about land mines in southern Iran.
“If confirmed, US military use of its Gator mine scattering system causing civilian deaths and injuries shows exactly why decades of work to ban these weapons cannot be undone without grave harm being the result,” Sarah Yager, Washington director at Human Rights Watch, told The Washington Post.
A Canadian journalist, Dimitri Lascaris, also reported from a village in the Shiraz area, investigated two unexploded mines and visiting the home of a 31-year-old father who was "killed when he picked up one of the mines."
"The authorities have not yet had the opportunity to deal with the aftermath, the horrifying aftermath of what was done here," said Lascaris in a video report he posted on YouTube.
Alireza Akbari, a correspondent with Press TV in Iran, accompanied Lascaris and explained that even the rainy weather that was present in the village could pose a risk, as "the soil and the rain together, they might put pressure on the mine... It might be one of the things that can trigger the mine, and it can be exploded at any moment."
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New START’s Expiration: A Threat to Humanitarian Disarmament
When major powers abandon restraint in the nuclear field, they send a dangerous message: that international commitments are optional, norms are negotiable, and humanitarian principles can be sidelined.
Feb 05, 2026
In January 2026, I published an article warning that the world was approaching the final hours of the New START Treaty. On February 5, 2026, that warning has become reality. For the first time since the early 1970s, no legally binding limits exist on US-Russian strategic nuclear forces. This moment is not only a failure of arms control; it is a profound threat to human security, humanitarian disarmament, and the credibility of multilateral commitments across all fields.
New START was the last surviving pillar of bilateral nuclear restraint. Its expiration removes the ceilings on deployed strategic warheads and delivery systems, eliminates inspections and data exchanges, and forces both sides to operate in an environment of opacity and worst‑case assumptions. In my earlier article, I argued that this collapse would deepen the crisis of credibility facing the Nuclear Non‑Proliferation Treaty (NPT), especially the long‑neglected obligations under Article VI. That analysis stands even more firmly today. A world without New START is a world where the NPT’s disarmament pillar is no longer eroding slowly—it is cracking openly.
But the consequences extend far beyond the nuclear domain. The end of New START is a blow to humanitarian disarmament as a whole. Treaties such as the Mine Ban Treaty (MBT) and the Convention on Cluster Munitions (CMC) were built on the belief that international law can restrain the most harmful weapons and protect civilians. When major powers abandon restraint in the nuclear field, they send a dangerous message: that international commitments are optional, norms are negotiable, and humanitarian principles can be sidelined when politically inconvenient.
This erosion of respect for international commitments is not isolated. It is part of a wider pattern visible in multiple conflicts, where the use of explosive weapons in populated areas, attacks on medical facilities, and disregard for civilian protection have become disturbingly normalized. The collapse of New START reinforces this trend by weakening the broader culture of compliance that humanitarian disarmament depends on.
Strengthening humanitarian disarmament—from nuclear weapons to landmines, cluster munitions, and all weapons that devastate civilian life—is now an urgent moral responsibility.
The humanitarian and medical consequences of this moment cannot be overstated. Nuclear weapons are not abstract strategic tools; they are instruments of mass suffering. Their use—even once—would overwhelm health systems, destroy infrastructure, contaminate environments, and inflict irreversible harm on generations. The expiration of New START increases the likelihood of miscalculation, escalation, and arms racing at a time when global humanitarian systems are already stretched beyond capacity.
This is why the Treaty on the Prohibition of Nuclear Weapons (TPNW) has gained renewed relevance. Its humanitarian logic—grounded in the lived experiences of survivors and the realities of medical response—offers a principled alternative to the paralysis of traditional arms control. As nuclear‑armed states retreat from their obligations, the TPNW stands as a reminder that disarmament is not only a legal duty but a moral imperative.
Today’s moment demands more than observation. It requires action.
Governments must restore restraint and rebuild trust in multilateral commitments.
Civil society must raise its voice with renewed urgency.
Humanitarian and medical organizations must continue to highlight the human cost of nuclear policies.
And the media must stop treating nuclear risks as distant or technical; they are immediate threats to human life and dignity.
The expiration of New START is not the end of arms control—but it is a warning. A warning that the international system is drifting toward a world where the most destructive weapons are unconstrained, humanitarian norms are weakened, and global commitments lose their meaning.
Strengthening humanitarian disarmament—from nuclear weapons to landmines, cluster munitions, and all weapons that devastate civilian life—is now an urgent moral responsibility, more than ever.
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