‘I Want My Legs Back’: The Child Amputees of Gaza’s War

Thirteen year-old amputee Layan al-Baz receives treatment at the Nasser hospital in Khan Yunis in the southern Gaza Strip on October 31, 2023. (AFP)
Thirteen year-old amputee Layan al-Baz receives treatment at the Nasser hospital in Khan Yunis in the southern Gaza Strip on October 31, 2023. (AFP)
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‘I Want My Legs Back’: The Child Amputees of Gaza’s War

Thirteen year-old amputee Layan al-Baz receives treatment at the Nasser hospital in Khan Yunis in the southern Gaza Strip on October 31, 2023. (AFP)
Thirteen year-old amputee Layan al-Baz receives treatment at the Nasser hospital in Khan Yunis in the southern Gaza Strip on October 31, 2023. (AFP)

Layan al-Baz cries in agony when the effect fades of the painkillers she receives after her legs were amputated -- the result of a strike on Gaza as Israel fights Hamas.

"I don't want a false leg," the 13-year-old Palestinian tells AFP in Khan Yunis's Nasser hospital, in the southern Gaza Strip, where getting artificial limbs was nearly impossible anyway.

The impoverished Palestinian territory, under a crippling Israeli-led blockade for years and besieged since war erupted on October 7, suffers severe shortages of food, water and fuel, and medical supplies are scarce.

"I want them to put my legs back, they can do it," Baz says in desperation from her bed at Nasser's pediatric ward.

Every time she opens her eyes as the painkillers wear off, she sees her bandaged stumps.

Her mother, Lamia al-Baz, 47, says Layan was wounded last week in a strike on Al-Qarara district of Khan Yunis, part of Israel's unrelenting military campaign in response to bloody Hamas attacks on October 7 that Israeli officials say killed more than 1,400 people, most of them civilians.

According to the Hamas-run health ministry, nearly 9,500 people have been killed in Gaza since the war erupted, including at least 3,900 children.

Four of them were Baz's relatives, killed in the strike that cost the 13-year-old's legs, her mother says.

Lamia says two of her daughters, Ikhlas and Khitam, and two grandchildren including a newborn baby were killed when the Israeli strike hit Ikhlas's home. The family were there to support Ikhlas who had just given birth.

"Their bodies were in shreds," says Lamia, who had to identify her daughters' bodies at a morgue. "I identified Khitam by her earrings and Ikhlas by her toes."

Layan, her face and arms dotted with injuries, asks: "How will I return to school when my friends walk and I can't?"

Lamia tries to reassure her: "I will be by your side. It will all be fine. You still have a future ahead of you."

'I'm still alive'

At the hospital's burns unit, 14-year-old Lama al-Agha and her sister Sara, 15, lie in adjacent beds.

They are treated after an October 12 strike that killed Sara's twin Sama and brother Yahya, 12, says their mother, sitting between the two hospital beds and struggling to hold back tears.

Stitches and burn scars are visible on Lama's half-shaved head and her forehead.

"When they transferred me here, I asked the nurses to help me sit up and I discovered that my leg was amputated," the 14-year-old recalls.

"I've been through a lot of pain, but I thank God that I'm still alive."

Lama is determined not to let her injury decide her future.

"I'll get an artificial leg and continue my studies, so I can achieve my dream of becoming a doctor. I will be strong for me and for my family," she says.

Hospital director Nahed Abu Taaema explains that due to the massive number of casualties and dwindling resources, medics are often left with no choice but to amputate limbs to prevent life-threatening complications.

"We have to choose between saving a patient's life or putting it at risk while trying to save their injured leg," says Abu Taaema.

Dashed football dream

Sporting a green football jersey and matching shorts, Ahmad Abu Shahmah, 14, uses crutches to walk around the ruins of his family's home in Khan Yunis.

Now surrounded by several of his cousins, Abu Shahmah is at the courtyard where he used to play football.

But the building was destroyed in a strike that killed six of his cousins and an aunt.

"When I woke up (after surgery) I asked my brother, 'where is my leg?'" he recalls.

"He lied to me and said it was right there, and that I couldn't feel it because of the anesthetics."

The following day, "my cousin told me the truth", says Abu Shahmah.

"I cried a lot. The first thing I thought about was that I will no longer be able to walk or play football like I would every day. I signed up to an academy one week before the war."

Abu Shahmah supports FC Barcelona, while his cousins are die-hard fans of Real Madrid.

One of them, Farid Abu Shahmah, says that if he "could turn back time and return Ahmad his leg, I'd be ready to give up Real and become a Barcelona fan like him."



What’s at Stake in Iraq’s Parliamentary Election?

A young Iraqi worker walks past election campaigning posters ahead of the parliamentary elections in Baghdad, Iraq, 07 November 2025. (EPA)
A young Iraqi worker walks past election campaigning posters ahead of the parliamentary elections in Baghdad, Iraq, 07 November 2025. (EPA)
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What’s at Stake in Iraq’s Parliamentary Election?

A young Iraqi worker walks past election campaigning posters ahead of the parliamentary elections in Baghdad, Iraq, 07 November 2025. (EPA)
A young Iraqi worker walks past election campaigning posters ahead of the parliamentary elections in Baghdad, Iraq, 07 November 2025. (EPA)

Iraqis will elect a new parliament on November 11, in a key test for Prime Minister Mohammed Shia al-Sudani and for a system seen by the country's young population as merely enriching those already in power.

WHAT IS THE MOOD AMONG IRAQIS?

Many ordinary voters are disillusioned with Iraq's 20-year-old experiment with democracy, saying it has brought only corruption, unemployment and poor public services, while parties, politicians and armed groups divide the spoils of their country's vast oil wealth and distribute jobs to loyalists.

Iraq began voting for its politicians in 2005, after the 2003 US invasion which toppled logtime ruler Saddam Hussein.

Early elections were marred by sectarian violence and boycotted by Sunni Muslims as Saddam's ouster allowed for the political dominance of the majority Shiites, whom he had suppressed during his long rule.

Sectarianism has largely subsided, especially among younger Iraqis, but remains embedded in a political system that shares out government posts among Shiites, Sunnis, Kurds, Christians and other ethnic and religious groups.

WHO IS RUNNING?

Roughly 40% of the registered candidates are under 40, highlighting attempts by the new generation to challenge the political domination of older power networks.

Sudani, who took office in 2022 and is seeking a second term, leads the Reconstruction and Development Coalition, which groups several Shiite parties and is campaigning on improving services, fighting corruption and consolidating state authority.

He has been a rare strong prime minister who has pushed through reconstruction projects and fostered cordial ties with both Iran and the US, Iraq's main foreign allies.

The State of Law Coalition, led by former premier Nouri al-Maliki whose sectarian policies critics say helped the rise of ISIS in 2014, remains influential and competes with Sudani's camp for dominance within the Shiite establishment.

A collection of parties with ties to Iran and with their own armed groups are running on separate lists.

The main Sunni political force is former parliamentary Speaker Mohammed al-Halbousi's Taqaddum (Progress) Party. It draws support from Iraq's mainly Sunni west and north. It calls for rebuilding state institutions and empowering Sunni communities after years of conflict and marginalization.

The Kurdistan Democratic Party (KDP) of veteran leader Masoud Barzani dominates the semi-autonomous government of Iraq's northern Kurdistan Region. It seeks a greater share of the oil revenues that shore up the national budget.

The Patriotic Union of Kurdistan (PUK), led by Bafel Talabani, rivals the KDP. It traditionally advocates closer ties with Baghdad and has often allied with Shiite factions. It aims to defend its traditional strongholds.

The influential populist Shiite cleric Moqtada al-Sadr's movement is boycotting the vote, ostensibly over corruption, leaving the field open to others. Sadr's movement still controls large parts of the state through key civil service appointments.

HOW WILL THE VOTE AFFECT IRAQ?

Turnout will be a key measure of Iraqis' confidence in their political system, amid public frustration over endemic graft and poor services.

Low turnout would signal continued disillusionment, while a stronger showing could give reform-minded and younger candidates limited leverage in parliament.

The election is not expected to drastically alter Iraq's political landscape. Negotiations to select a prime minister are often protracted, ending in a compromise among the richest, best-armed and most powerful parties.

Under Iraq's sectarian power-sharing system, the prime minister will be Shiite, the speaker of parliament Sunni, and the president a Kurd.

But Iraq's next government will face intense pressure to deliver tangible improvements in everyday life and prevent public discontent over corruption spilling into unrest.

HOW WILL IT AFFECT THE REGION?

Iraq's next prime minister will need to navigate the delicate balance between US and Iranian influence, and manage dozens of armed groups that are closer to Tehran and answerable more to their own leaders than to the state, all while facing growing pressure from Washington to dismantle those militias.

Iraq has so far avoided the worst of the regional upheaval caused by the Gaza war, but will face US and Israeli wrath if it fails to contain militants aligned with Iran.

WHAT'S NEXT?

Preliminary results are expected within days of the vote, but talks to form a government could take months.

After results are certified by Iraq's Electoral Commission and Supreme Court, the new 329-member parliament meets to elect a speaker, deputies and then a president, who tasks the largest bloc with forming a government.

The nominee has 30 days to win approval for a cabinet - a feat never guaranteed in Iraq.


West Bank’s Ancient Olive Tree a ‘Symbol of Palestinian Endurance’ 

Salah Abu Ali, 52, official guardian of Palestinians alleged oldest olive tree, between 3,000 and 5,000 years old poses for a portrait under it in Al-Walajah, occupied West Bank on November 4, 2025. (AFP)
Salah Abu Ali, 52, official guardian of Palestinians alleged oldest olive tree, between 3,000 and 5,000 years old poses for a portrait under it in Al-Walajah, occupied West Bank on November 4, 2025. (AFP)
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West Bank’s Ancient Olive Tree a ‘Symbol of Palestinian Endurance’ 

Salah Abu Ali, 52, official guardian of Palestinians alleged oldest olive tree, between 3,000 and 5,000 years old poses for a portrait under it in Al-Walajah, occupied West Bank on November 4, 2025. (AFP)
Salah Abu Ali, 52, official guardian of Palestinians alleged oldest olive tree, between 3,000 and 5,000 years old poses for a portrait under it in Al-Walajah, occupied West Bank on November 4, 2025. (AFP)

As guardian of the occupied West Bank's oldest olive tree, Salah Abu Ali prunes its branches and gathers its fruit even as violence plagues the Palestinian territory during this year's harvest.

"This is no ordinary tree. We're talking about history, about civilization, about a symbol," the 52-year-old said proudly, smiling behind his thick beard in the village of Al-Walajah, south of Jerusalem.

Abu Ali said experts had estimated the tree to be between 3,000 and 5,500 years old. It has endured millennia of drought and war in this parched land scarred by conflict.

Around the tree's vast trunk and its dozen offshoots -- some named after his family members -- Abu Ali has cultivated a small oasis of calm.

A few steps away, the Israeli separation wall cutting off the West Bank stands five meters (16 feet) high, crowned with razor wire.

More than half of Al-Walajah's original land now lies on the far side of the Israeli security wall.

Yet so far the village has been spared the settler assaults that have marred this year's olive harvest, leaving many Palestinians injured.

Israel has occupied the West Bank since 1967, and some of the 500,000 Israelis living in the Palestinian territory have attacked farmers trying to access their trees almost every day this year since the season began in mid-October.

The Palestinian Authority's Colonization and Wall Resistance Commission, based in Ramallah, documented 2,350 such attacks in the West Bank in October.

- 'Rooted in this land' -

Almost none of the perpetrators have been held to account by the Israeli authorities.

Israeli forces often disperse Palestinians with tear gas or block access to their own land, AFP journalists witnessed on several occasions.

But in Al-Walajah for now, Abu Ali is free to care for the tree. In a good year, he said, it can yield from 500 to 600 kilograms (1,100 to 1,300 pounds) of olives.

This year, low rainfall led to slim pickings in the West Bank, including for the tree whose many nicknames include the Elder, the Bedouin Tree and Mother of Olives.

"It has become a symbol of Palestinian endurance. The olive tree represents the Palestinian people themselves, rooted in this land for thousands of years," said Al-Walajah mayor Khader Al-Araj.

The Palestinian Authority's agriculture ministry even recognized the tree as a Palestinian natural landmark and appointed Abu Ali as its official caretaker.

Most olive trees reach about three meters in height when mature. This one towers above the rest, its main trunk nearly two meters wide, flanked by a dozen offshoots as large as regular olive trees.

- 'Green gold' -

"The oil from this tree is exceptional. The older the tree, the richer the oil," said Abu Ali.

He noted that the precious resource, which he called "green gold", costs four to five times more than regular oil.

Tourists once came in droves to see the tree, but numbers have dwindled since the start of the war in Gaza in October 2023, Abu Ali said, with checkpoints tightening across the West Bank.

The village of Al-Walajah is not fully immune from the issues facing other West Bank communities.

In 1949, after the creation of Israel, a large portion of the village's land was taken, and many Palestinian families had to leave their homes to settle on the other side of the so-called armistice line.

After Israel's 1967 occupation, most of what remained was designated Area C -- under full Israeli control -- under the 1993 Oslo Accords, which were meant to lead to peace between Palestinians and Israelis.

But the designation left many homes facing demolition orders for lacking Israeli permits, a common problem in Area C, which covers 66 percent of the West Bank.

"Today, Al-Walajah embodies almost every Israeli policy in the West Bank: settlements, the wall, home demolitions, land confiscations and closures," mayor Al-Araj told AFP.

For now, Abu Ali continues to nurture the tree. He plants herbs and fruit trees around it, and keeps a guest book with messages from visitors in dozens of languages.

"I've become part of the tree. I can't live without it," he said.


French Migrant Unit Faces Quiet Standoff With Damascus

A circulated image shows the Ghuraba camp in Harem in Idlib’s countryside
A circulated image shows the Ghuraba camp in Harem in Idlib’s countryside
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French Migrant Unit Faces Quiet Standoff With Damascus

A circulated image shows the Ghuraba camp in Harem in Idlib’s countryside
A circulated image shows the Ghuraba camp in Harem in Idlib’s countryside

The latest clashes in Idlib’s countryside between a French armed faction known as the Ghuraba and Syrian government forces have revived one of the most sensitive and contentious questions in Syria’s new landscape.

In the Harem area north of Idlib, the fighting was not a standalone security incident. It appeared instead to be a test of Damascus’s approach to thousands of foreign fighters who remained on Syrian territory after years of war.

The clearest reading among analysts is that the events marked the start of a more serious engagement with the foreign fighters file.

The issue has returned to the forefront after the emerging Syrian state moved to build trust with the international community by preventing foreigners from assuming leadership posts in the new Syrian army.

How the Story Began

The incident began on October 22 when internal security forces moved into a camp in the town of Harem, where French fighters under the command of Omar Diaby, known as Omar Omsen, live.

The raid was carried out after complaints of serious violations, including the kidnapping of a girl by a group led by Diaby. Officials said Diaby refused to surrender. The operation, according to the official narrative, aimed to enforce the law and assert state authority over the camp.

Diaby’s Response

Diaby, a French commander of African origin, denied the accusations. He accused French intelligence of orchestrating what he described as political targeting. Paris views Diaby as one of the main recruiters of French-speaking jihadists. Washington designated him a global terrorist in 2016.

Ceasefire and Mediation

The clashes ended after a reconciliation meeting mediated by Uzbek, Tajik and Turkestan faction leaders inside the Harem camp. The Ghuraba announced on Telegram that it had reached a ceasefire and thanked what it called migrant and local brothers who supported them.

The Ghuraba’s Composition

The Ghuraba comprises about 70 French fighters living with their families in a fortified camp directly on the Turkish border.

This made the security raid difficult. The six-point agreement reached after the clashes required a ceasefire, opening the camp to the government, referring Diaby’s case to the Sharia court under the justice ministry, withdrawing heavy weapons and guaranteeing that participants in the clashes would not be pursued.

Foreign Fighters in the New State

The number of foreign fighters is estimated at more than five thousand. Most have joined the ministry of defense within the 84th Division. The Syrian government faces pressure from western capitals to keep them away from senior positions. Officials have sought to reassure global partners that these fighters pose no threat to regional or international stability.

Syrian President Ahmed Al Sharaa said fighters who once fought with the opposition are part of the new society and that Syria will deal with them through reconciliation rather than exclusion.

A number of them have already received military ranks and official posts in the army as part of an integration policy. Military officials later stressed that the Harem incident does not signal a change in this policy.

The Military’s Position

A Syrian army official, who requested anonymity, told Asharq Al-Awsat that what happened in Harem did not target foreign fighters who stood with the revolution. He said relations with them are based on mutual commitment. Many of them have formally joined the ministry of defense.

He denied that the operation was a campaign against them. It was simply enforcement of the law. He added that the new Syrian army operates under a clear system of discipline and military orders that applies to all personnel, whether Syrian or migrant.

The Debate Over Terminology

Away from the official version, observers and former military commanders said the crisis reflects deeper questions about state-building and identity.

Abu Yahya Al Shami, a former commander in an Islamic faction, told Asharq Al-Awsat that the core issue is terminology. He argued that describing the fighters as foreigners is neither accurate nor fair because the term carries negative implications.

He prefers calling them migrants, saying this acknowledges the legitimacy they earned through their sacrifices. He believes they have already integrated socially and politically, and that their concerns mirror those of Syrians.

He said the handling of the Harem incident was flawed. The media and security escalation was a mistake. Reconciliation prevented the situation from sliding into a dangerous confrontation. He stressed the need for calm, noting that migrants have legitimate fears of prosecution, deportation or marginalization after the war.

Al Shami rejected describing what happened as a revolt. He said the French fighters are part of the Syrian army. Dialogue and mediation, he added, strengthen state authority more than armed confrontation.

Structural Challenges

Researcher Wael Alwan said the episode revealed deep structural challenges for the Syrian state. He told Asharq Al-Awsat that integration of migrants into state institutions remains incomplete and that the coming phase will test whether the integration is genuine.

Some foreign fighters may never integrate. The state may have to either facilitate their organized departure or prevent them from becoming a threat to stability. Alwan said the authorities will need to balance security and stability with the goals of integration and disbanding armed formations.

He said the government has no option but to dismantle armed groups, Syrian or migrant, because this is necessary for reasserting state authority. The reconciliation approach in Harem, he said, was deliberate and meant to contain the crisis with minimal cost.

Alwan added that some segments of fighters, Syrian and migrant, are dissatisfied with state policies. He said the state now needs a new religious narrative that speaks to these groups, and that steps in this direction have recently begun.

Diverging Views Among Migrant Fighters

To understand the ideological differences among migrants themselves, Asharq Al-Awsat interviewed two commanders serving under the defense ministry. Their views reflected a clear divide.

Abu Muhajir, an Arab national, said he is part of the ministry and fights under its banner. He said migrants came to defend Syrians, not to rule them. With the revolution victorious and the new state established, he said their role is now to follow state policy. They are now part of the Syrian army and abide by all ministry decisions.

In contrast, Abu Muthanna, also a ministry member, expressed reservations about the state’s direction. He said the state had kept regime loyalists in influential positions and tolerated public wrongdoing.

He said this is the opposite of the goals for which many fighters died. Still, he insisted they would not rebel. Their duty, he said, is to advise and warn from within, not to bear arms against the state.

The Ideological Layer

Abdullah Khaled, a former Sharia official in Hayat Tahrir Al Sham and now an adviser in the new Syrian army, explained the divide between these two camps.

Migrants, he said, are driven by convictions deeply rooted in their faith. This commitment is what led them to leave comfortable lives in Europe for what was once one of the most dangerous places in the world.

During the war, factional religious discourse was emotional and mobilizing, suited to fighting and confrontation. But after the fall of the regime and the transition from revolution to state, the discourse of governance naturally changed.

Khaled said the new approach fits the logic of governing a population rather than commanding a fighting group.

This shift, however, clashes with the deeply held beliefs of many migrants and some Syrians. For those who reject the new direction, the options are limited. According to Khaled, they must choose between confrontation, withdrawal into silence, or acceptance and adaptation. The state will not permit a return to the old factional model.