‘Cubs of the Caliphate’... ISIS Threatens New Syria

 A man hugs another after being allowed to leave the al-Hol camp. (AFP)
A man hugs another after being allowed to leave the al-Hol camp. (AFP)
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‘Cubs of the Caliphate’... ISIS Threatens New Syria

 A man hugs another after being allowed to leave the al-Hol camp. (AFP)
A man hugs another after being allowed to leave the al-Hol camp. (AFP)

Ahmed el-Jouri

Khaled (a pseudonym) never expected this interview to reopen a door to the past.

At first, he hesitated, as if choosing his words carefully. But as he spoke, his tone felt strangely familiar. Then, as the conversation unfolded, a moment came that made my heart race.

"I was 13 when I became a prison guard. We had no choice. They gave orders, and if we refused, we were punished. I opened cell doors, brought food, and watched the prisoners. Some cried, some screamed, and some stayed silent. We treated them as enemies, though we didn’t know why they were there," Khaled recounted.

His words sent a chill down my spine. Al-Mayadeen Prison. 2015. A 13-year-old was guarding me and the other detainees. My mind flashed back to that dark time when I was arrested in Syria for refusing to work as a pharmacist for ISIS.

The group demanded total loyalty, especially from medical professionals. Those who resisted faced threats, arrests, or worse.

One night, they came for me. I later learned my neighbor, an ISIS member, had turned me in for listening to music. That was enough to send me to prison - where I met my young jailer.

As I conducted this interview - one of 17 testimonies I gathered on ISIS youth or the so-called "Cubs of the Caliphate" - questions filled my mind, but I held back. I didn’t want to be too direct, yet curiosity gnawed at me.

I asked careful questions, trying to confirm my suspicions without alarming Khaled, now in his mid-20s. But when he described the prison - the corridors, the meager meals, the way he was ordered to open and close cell doors - I knew the truth. He had been my jailer.

A wave of emotions hit me. Part of me wanted to tell him I had been there, that he had stood before me, holding the keys. But another part hesitated.

How could I say it? What difference would it make? I now see that Khaled was just a child, a pawn in a larger system. Any anger or resentment I felt couldn’t be directed at him. Still, I struggled to separate the man before me from his past.

"Were you cruel to the prisoners?" I finally asked.

He sighed, lowering his head. "Sometimes, I tried to be kind - giving extra food or leaving a door open a little longer. But other times... I was harsh. I was afraid. If I showed weakness, they would have locked me up too."

His words struck me.

I don’t know if Khaled remembers me or if I was just another prisoner. But I see now - he is still fighting his own battle.

Khaled’s story is just one of 17 firsthand accounts gathered over the past six months, revealing how past trauma collides with present and future struggles. This report follows two key figures: Khaled, a former prison guard trying to move on, and Sami (a pseudonym), who once faced his captor at his weakest moment.

Their experiences, along with others, highlight the lasting impact of violence and forced recruitment on a generation robbed of its childhood. But they also raise a crucial question: Has ISIS truly been defeated, or could it return?

With Syria’s shifting power dynamics - Bashar al-Assad’s downfall and Hayat Tahrir al-Sham taking control - young men like Khaled and Sami now face new challenges in an increasingly unstable country. The ongoing security chaos and power struggles among armed factions have fueled fears of ISIS regaining strength.

At the center of this uncertainty is the Syrian Democratic Forces (SDF), which still controls thousands of ISIS detainees, including men, women, and children. This detainee issue has become a bargaining tool, with SDF using it to secure military and political support from global and regional powers.

Without clear solutions, these prisoners risk being used for political or military gain. The possible closure of Syria’s al-Hol camp, where many are held, only adds to concerns about what happens next - and where they will go.

A generation of children was born in the camp that mostly holds ISIS families in Syria. (Asharq Al-Awsat)

ISIS threatens Syria’s new government

ISIS has warned Syria’s new government against "straying from the right path," fueling fears that its threats are more than just propaganda - they could be part of a plan to regain influence.

Though the group’s remnants remain active in Syria’s and Iraq’s deserts, launching occasional attacks, the real danger lies in its ability to exploit security gaps and rebuild.

Adding to concerns, some local forces - including remnants of the old regime and the SDF - might use the ISIS threat to their advantage. By keeping the danger alive, they could seek more support from international players, raising fears that ISIS operations might be tolerated or even leveraged in ongoing power struggles.

ISIS is determined to avenge its defeats, understanding that losing land doesn’t mean the end of its ideology. The group is rebuilding by taking advantage of local grievances, tribal divisions, economic decline, and the hopelessness of many former fighters, especially those recruited as children.

These young people, raised in a war-torn environment, now face rejection from their communities, lack of job opportunities, and a stigma they can’t escape. Without proper rehabilitation programs, the risk of them returning to ISIS remains high, as the group continues to exploit their isolation and lack of future prospects.

So, are these former child soldiers a threat to Syria’s stability? Or are they victims of tough circumstances, hoping for reintegration into society as part of the solution?

Despite the fall of its so-called "caliphate," ISIS is still trying to regain its power, using more complex and decentralized methods. These tactics make it harder to track or eliminate the group.

With tasks now handled outside the central leadership, recruits sometimes receive multiple offers from different ISIS factions, unaware of their true connections to the original group.

Khaled recalled: "After I was freed, a man I didn’t know approached me. He didn’t directly say he was from ISIS, but he hinted that the past wasn’t over and there was a chance to return to the group. He knew personal details about me, even things I’d never told anyone. How did he know?"

Like Khaled, Sami also received indirect offers, but through social media. ISIS uses fake accounts on Telegram and WhatsApp to reach young people. Sami said: "I got a message from an unknown person on Telegram. He said he knew my struggles and that there was a way for me to rebuild my life. He spoke about injustice, how we were used and abandoned. His words felt like a therapist exploiting my weaknesses."

In addition to traditional methods, ISIS is now using modern technology, video games that spread extremist ideas, and private forums. They sometimes send links disguised as educational offers or scholarships, but they are traps to recruit individuals.

At one point, the group also relied on civilians working in accepted jobs, like aid workers or logistics staff, to spread their influence. Khaled revealed: "A friend told me he was working with a man distributing food and supplies to poor villages. Later, I found out it was just a cover, and some of the workers were former ISIS members."

Police affiliated with the new Syrian authorities are seen near a mosque in Palmyra on February 7, 2025. (AFP)

ISIS’ continued influence

The tough economic situation and social stigma faced by former ISIS members play a major role in the group's ongoing recruitment. Many young people from these backgrounds live in areas with few job opportunities and are marginalized by society, making them vulnerable to ISIS’s financial offers.

Sami said: "When I was released, I couldn’t find work. I tried to start over, but everyone saw me as a threat. I had nothing, no future. In my desperation, I thought, ‘What if I go back? At least I’d get something for the risk. No one will hire me here.’"

Khaled, like many others, feels isolated. "Society rejects us, and the government doesn’t trust us. We’re stuck, not knowing where to go. When someone says, ‘We haven’t forgotten you, you’re still one of us,’ you start thinking about it."

One witness added: "When there’s no food and no one will hire you because of your past, you start to consider your options. Some are strong enough to resist, but others may not be."

Psychological struggles persist

The survivors also feel as if ISIS is still watching them. It’s not just messages or attempts to meet; sometimes they are approached by people who know private details about their lives.

Khaled recalled: "After my release, I lived far from anything related to the group. But suddenly, a man appeared at the mosque where I prayed in. He spoke about how some of us had lost our way but could still return. When I asked him what he meant, he said, ‘You were there. You know what I mean.’"

Though ISIS’ physical caliphate has fallen, its ideology remains. The group’s tactics continue to change to adapt to new situations. For Khaled, Sami, and others, the fight is not just about weapons. It’s a psychological struggle to hold onto their new identities, while dealing with the past and the persistent attempts to bring them back into the fold, all in a Syria filled with uncertainty.



Johnny Moore… What Do We Know About Chairman of Gaza Humanitarian Foundation

People carrying boxes and bags containing food and humanitarian aid packages distributed by the Gaza Humanitarian Foundation last month in Rafah, in southern Gaza. (AP)
People carrying boxes and bags containing food and humanitarian aid packages distributed by the Gaza Humanitarian Foundation last month in Rafah, in southern Gaza. (AP)
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Johnny Moore… What Do We Know About Chairman of Gaza Humanitarian Foundation

People carrying boxes and bags containing food and humanitarian aid packages distributed by the Gaza Humanitarian Foundation last month in Rafah, in southern Gaza. (AP)
People carrying boxes and bags containing food and humanitarian aid packages distributed by the Gaza Humanitarian Foundation last month in Rafah, in southern Gaza. (AP)

As the world condemned the killings this week of dozens of hungry Palestinians near US-backed aid sites in Gaza, the group responsible for distributing that aid quietly appointed a new leader: an evangelical Christian with ties to the Trump administration.

The group, the Gaza Humanitarian Foundation, which was founded last year, announced on Tuesday that Johnnie Moore, an American public relations professional, would be its new executive chairman after the previous chief quit.

Moore’s appointment comes as the foundation, which began handing out food boxes last week, temporarily halted operations on Wednesday to work on “organization and efficiency.”

It had been racked by a resignation in its ranks, chaos at its distribution sites and violence nearby, including two shooting episodes in which dozens of Palestinians were killed, according to local health workers.

Here is what to know about Moore and his ties to the Trump administration.

A presence in the Oval Office

Moore was a spokesman for Liberty University, the Christian institution founded in Lynchburg, Virginia., in 1971 by the Rev. Jerry Falwell, for a dozen years before moving into the media industry and starting his own faith-based public relations firm.

He represented early evangelical supporters of President Trump, including Jerry Falwell Jr, who succeeded his father at Liberty University, and Paula White, who now leads the White House faith office.

Moore was co-chairman of the 2016 Trump presidential campaign’s evangelical advisory board and an influential figure during Trump’s first administration. He was part of a coalition of Christian leaders who paid regular visits to the White House, attending policy briefings, as well as prayer meetings in the Oval Office.

His public relations company, Kairos, was acquired in 2022 by JDA Worldwide, and Moore now serves as president of that larger firm.

When he announced the acquisition on social media, Moore referred to his work in public relations as his “day job” as he has had many other roles and projects linked to his faith and interest in foreign policy, including writing books on the persecution of Christians in the Middle East and Africa.

In 2017, Moore told The New York Times that he and other evangelicals had pressed Trump to recognize Israeli sovereignty over Jerusalem and to move the US Embassy there. “It has been an issue of priority for a long time,” he said.

Moore describes himself as “a bridge builder and peacemaker especially known for consequential work at the intersection of faith and foreign policy, especially in the Middle East.”

The embassy move drew condemnation from Palestinian and Arab leaders, the heads of many Christian churches in Jerusalem and much of the international community, which has long viewed the status of Jerusalem as a matter to be resolved through negotiations over a future Palestinian state.

A cheerleader for Mike Huckabee

Moore, like many evangelicals, including Mike Huckabee, the US ambassador to Israel, is committed to a Jewish state based on his interpretation of the Bible.

Some evangelicals view their support for Israel as an important element of their belief in biblical prophecy. Speaking to The Washington Post in 2018, Moore said he had advised White House officials that “those who bless Israel will be blessed.”

Moore cheered Huckabee’s nomination, saying on social media in November that “selecting a lifelong non-Jewish Zionist as the US ambassador to Israel sends a powerful message to friend and foe of America.”

Huckabee, 69, and Moore, 41, have walked similar paths as public figures and Christian media creators, and they have been described as friends in Israeli news media. The embassy did not respond to a request for comment on their relationship.

The new face of a troubled Gaza organization

Israel imposed a blockade on supplies entering the Gaza Strip in March, accusing Hamas of looting humanitarian aid. That embargo was lifted to a limited degree last month, after the international community raised alarms about widespread hunger in the enclave.

Israelis conceived of the new system to establish aid distribution sites run by American security contractors in the enclave. It was meant, officials said, to circumvent Hamas, which Israel accused of stealing assistance meant for civilians.

But the rollout of the Gaza Humanitarian Foundation’s operation has been chaotic. Its previous head resigned hours before the initiative was set to begin late last month, citing a lack of autonomy.

On Tuesday, Boston Consulting Group, a US advisory firm, said that it had stepped back from its involvement with the organization, that it had placed a partner who had worked on the project on leave and that it would conduct an internal review of its work.

Humanitarian organizations have criticized the foundation’s approach to aid distribution for a lack of independence from Israel, whose soldiers are positioned near the sites and have fired what the Israeli military has called “warning” shots on multiple occasions.

And the United Nations has refused to have anything to do with the effort because it says Israel is militarizing and politicizing humanitarian assistance and putting Palestinians in danger.

As reports of disarray at aid distribution sites emerged during the project’s first week, Moore said the effort was “working” and should be “celebrated.”

When the Gazan health authorities reported shooting deaths near one of the foundation’s sites, Moore reposted a statement from Huckabee accusing the news media and Hamas of spreading misinformation.

Moore lists 18 years of service with World Help, a Christian humanitarian organization, among his volunteer experiences, along with his new appointment at the Gaza foundation and his roles on various advisory boards, including that of the nonpartisan advocacy group Muslim Coalition for America and Haifa University in Israel.

In a statement about his appointment, Moore said he would help “ensure the humanitarian aid community and the broader international community understand what’s taking place on the ground.” The foundation declined a request for an interview.

*Ephrat Livni is a reporter for The New York Times’ DealBook newsletter, based in Washington.