In eastern Deir ez-Zor, the town of al-Baghouz once crowned Syria’s food basket. Famous for its exceptional dates, the town was shaded by thick palm groves that stretched across the Euphrates plain. Today, war has stripped the land of its abundance. Local officials estimate that more than 70% of al-Baghouz’s date palms -the beating heart of its economy and culture – have been destroyed.
Seventy-year-old farmer Hussein al-Ali recalls a paradise that no longer exists “Al-Baghouz was not just land, it was a garden. You could walk beneath the palms without seeing the sun, and the air was full of the scent of pollen and fresh dates. Each tree was like a son to us, we knew its age, the time of pollination, and its variety: Khalas, Halawi, Barhi, Tuffahi. Our dates were exported across Syria and the Gulf. One farm supported hundreds of people.”
But then came the war.
“Shells split the palms as they split bodies. Hundreds of trees burned, while others were uprooted by bulldozers. Each time we fled, we returned to more destruction. I lost over 80% of my palms – my only livelihood. We lost the tree, the shade, and our dignity. My dream, even as an old man, is to see my grandchildren replant palms again. We don’t want handouts, we want seedlings and irrigation systems so al-Baghouz can be green once more. The roots remain alive beneath the soil, as we remain alive above it. Palms are patient, and so are we.”
For Umm Mansi, a farmer from al-Baghouz, the groves were also a place of women’s labour and joy “The palms were not just for men. We helped with pollination, harvesting, cleaning and sorting. Harvest season was a time of work and celebration; we women would sing and laugh together. The income was good, and our effort bore fruit, literally. Life was generous.”
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Her voice turns heavy “The loss was double. We lost a safe tree, and we lost safety itself. Now our main worry is water and bread, not harvesting dates. Many families have left. Women carry a heavier burden, we search for any work to feed our families after the men lost their income. I grieve when I think my children may never live the beautiful memories I had.”
Jamal Al-Hamad, an agricultural engineer from al-Baghouz, warns that the disaster is both environmental and economic “Losing 70% of the palms means destroying an entire ecosystem. Palms protect the soil from desertification and shade other crops. Economically, the losses reach hundreds of millions of dollars. More serious is the loss of genetic resources; al-Baghouz was home to rare and valuable date varieties.”
He stresses that rebuilding faces immense obstacles: clearing mines and unexploded ordnance, restoring irrigation systems, and filling the gap left by young farmers who migrated. New palms take five to seven years before producing fruit, requiring sustained investment and expertise.
Yet he insists “Agriculture always carries hope, but we need a long-term strategy: infrastructure rehabilitation, farmer support, water-saving irrigation technologies. Rebuilding al-Baghouz must be a national priority, it is an investment in food security and social stability.”
Mishari, a senior official in Deir ez-Zor’s agriculture directorate, told +963 that al-Baghouz is central to recovery plans “We have a multi-phase programme. The emergency stage is direct support: seedlings, fertilisers, and partnerships with international organisations. We are working on rehabilitating major irrigation projects, developing water-efficient systems, and establishing local nurseries to produce seedlings. We also encourage investment in date-based industries.”
But challenges remain severe, “The costs are far beyond our current capacity. The scale of destruction requires real international support, not just temporary aid but sustainable development projects. We continue our efforts, and in time al-Baghouz will again be known for its bounty and resilience. Its neighbourhoods will flourish, and peace will return.”
Between cherished memories and a painful present, the people of al-Baghouz cling to hope. Their story is one of survival rooted in the soil, where the deep roots of palms mirror their own resilience. With the right support, they believe the groves will rise again, bringing not only fruit but dignity and life back to their community.
