Hunger games, UN edition: Starvation becomes policy
Editor's note: Aysel Mammadzada is an Azerbaijan-based journalist. The article expresses the author's personal opinion and may not coincide with the view of News.Az.
Starvation is not collateral damage. It is not an unfortunate byproduct of war. It is a method, cold, intentional, and deeply political. And its continued use after the Geneva Conventions represents not just a legal failure, but a moral collapse. Until the world finds the courage to enforce the promises it once made, to protect civilians, to punish war criminals, to speak the truth even when it is politically inconvenient, starvation will remain not just a symptom of conflict, but a chosen strategy of power.
By turning a blind eye to one of the dirtiest methods of warfare—using hunger as a weapon—world leaders are staining the pages of human history with shame. The European Union countries, Gulf states, and other actors are limiting themselves to statements of “condemnation” and “concern” regarding Israel’s blockade. In other words, they talk big, but no concrete punitive measures follow beyond empty condemnations. UK Foreign Secretary David Lammy’s threats that “sanctions will follow if aid is cut off” amount to nothing more than hollow blackmail—because unless sanctions are implemented on the ground, they remain meaningless words.
The United Nations and humanitarian organizations are loudly declaring that the hunger policy is a “war crime,” yet they remain powerless to take action due to political interests and the stranglehold of veto powers. Meanwhile, the Gulf countries dazzle the diplomatic stage with a few air and sea aid missions. But realistically, a few tons of food are nowhere near enough to change the fate of millions.
This tragic silence from the international community is effectively encouraging the use of hunger as a weapon of war. Veto cards at the UN Security Council and the self-serving calculations of major powers continue to sideline human lives. The result? Those who sustain starvation policies carry on unchallenged, while the world shuts its eyes and keeps repeating hollow slogans like “but we want peace.”
The 1949 Geneva Conventions, a cornerstone of international humanitarian law, explicitly prohibit the use of starvation as a method of warfare. Article 54 of Additional Protocol I states unambiguously that depriving civilians of objects indispensable to their survival, including food and water, constitutes a war crime. This legal framework was designed to place human dignity above military strategy, to ensure that even in the chaos of conflict, there would remain boundaries that could not be crossed. And yet, history has shown that these boundaries are routinely ignored.
Since the adoption of the Geneva Conventions, starvation has not only persisted as a weapon of war but has become, in many cases, a calculated tool of political dominance, ethnic cleansing, and collective punishment. Its perpetrators range from authoritarian regimes to democratically elected governments, often shielded by geopolitical alliances or protected by the paralysis of international institutions.
The Nigerian Civil War (1967–1970) offers one of the earliest and starkest examples of post-Geneva starvation warfare. The blockade imposed by the Nigerian government on the Biafra region resulted in the deaths of over a million civilians, primarily children. Despite global media coverage and humanitarian outcry, the international community failed to intervene meaningfully. The deliberate denial of food aid was not an accident of war; it was a strategy designed to subdue a population by weakening its very ability to survive.
A few years later, the Khmer Rouge regime in Cambodia carried out one of the most grotesque examples of state-induced famine. Between 1975 and 1979, forced evacuations, agricultural collectivization, and rationing led to the deaths of nearly two million people. Urban dwellers were marched into the countryside, forced into labor camps, and starved under brutal conditions. The regime’s actions were ideologically driven but practically executed with starvation as a mechanism of control. Decades passed before any of the perpetrators were brought before a tribunal.
The Iraqi government's campaigns against the Kurdish population during the 1980s further illustrate the pattern of starvation used as a weapon. In conjunction with chemical attacks like Halabja, the regime cut off food and humanitarian aid to Kurdish regions. Iraq, despite being a signatory to the Geneva Conventions, operated with impunity. It was only after the Gulf War and the rise of international media scrutiny that some of these violations gained global attention, but not justice.
The siege of Sarajevo during the Bosnian War (1992–1996) exposed starvation in a new, urban context. Serbian forces surrounded the city, cutting off all essential supplies. Over 10,000 people perished, many from hunger, cold, and disease. For the first time, an international criminal tribunal (ICTY) prosecuted some of these crimes, marking a rare moment of accountability.
Sudan’s Darfur crisis (2003–2009) followed a chillingly similar pattern. The Sudanese government systematically denied humanitarian access to rebel-held areas, deliberately exacerbating famine conditions. In a rare act of legal defiance, the International Criminal Court issued arrest warrants for President Omar al-Bashir, including charges of war crimes and genocide. Still, enforcement lagged for years, and political dynamics often softened the global response.
The use of starvation has not faded; it has merely adapted. In Yemen, since 2015, the Saudi-led coalition has imposed severe blockades on Houthi-controlled regions. These blockades have restricted the flow of food, medicine, and fuel, leading the UN to declare the situation a “man-made famine.” Millions remain at risk, while the global response has largely been shaped by strategic alliances and arms deals rather than human rights obligations.
Gaza represents the most prolonged modern case of siege and starvation. Since 2007, restrictions imposed by Israel on the movement of goods, people, and humanitarian aid have created chronic food insecurity. After the 2023 escalation, conditions worsened dramatically. The UN, alongside various human rights organizations, now documents patterns of systematic deprivation that approach the definition of deliberate mass starvation. Children are dying from malnutrition. Medical facilities lack electricity and supplies. Water is nearly nonexistent. And yet, the international community, bound by law but silenced by politics, has failed to act decisively.
The contradiction between legal commitments and political behavior is no longer a matter of oversight; it is a deliberate choice. The Geneva Conventions are not lacking in clarity, they are simply lacking in enforcement. Powerful states protect their allies, veto accountability mechanisms, and downplay human rights reports. In the United Nations Security Council, one veto can nullify global outrage. As a result, perpetrators understand that starvation is a low-cost, high-impact tool, effective, brutal, and largely immune from consequence.
Some defenders argue that in asymmetric warfare, such strategies become unavoidable. Yet international law was created precisely to regulate such imbalances, to shield civilians regardless of military dynamics. When starvation is normalized, the world moves closer to accepting the unthinkable: that the slow death of children, the hollow eyes of famine victims, and the systematic denial of bread and medicine are not acts of war, but simply “unfortunate consequences.”
Accountability is not a utopian demand; it is a legal and moral imperative. The prosecution of war crimes in Bosnia and Sudan proves that justice is possible, even if delayed. What is missing is not the legal structure, but the global will. States must be pressured, by civil societies, by independent media, by multilateral organizations, to enforce the laws they have signed. Double standards must be abandoned. A child dying of hunger in Gaza deserves the same outrage as one in Ukraine or Myanmar.
The silence around starvation is not passive; it is political. Every day that international bodies fail to act, every time humanitarian convoys are denied access without consequence, a precedent is reinforced, one that says some lives are expendable, some crimes tolerable.
The contradiction between legal commitments and political behavior is no longer a matter of oversight; it is a deliberate choice. The Geneva Conventions are not lacking in clarity, they are simply lacking in enforcement. Powerful states protect their allies, veto accountability mechanisms, and downplay human rights reports. In the United Nations Security Council, one veto can nullify global outrage. As a result, perpetrators understand that starvation is a low-cost, high-impact tool, effective, brutal, and largely immune from consequence.
At this point, it becomes necessary to distinguish between war and atrocity. War, by its very definition, is a conflict between states, governments, or large groups and typically involves armed confrontations. But the targeted killing of unarmed civilians, including children, the elderly, the sick, and the torture or starvation of those who are not engaged in combat, is not war. It is genocide. There is no other explanation for bombing hospitals or shelters. As long as the international political stage continues to glorify a state committing such crimes, and as long as it refuses to speak truth to power, history will repeat its injustices, and humanity will continue to suffer the consequences.
(If you possess specialized knowledge and wish to contribute, please reach out to us at opinions@news.az).
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