As the Khabur River returns, Assyrian farmers in North and East Syria reclaim their lands — but for how long?

TEL TAMR, North and East Syria — For decades, the Khabur River was the lifeline of northeastern Syria, its waters nourishing the fertile plains of Hasakah Province. From the banks of this once-mighty river, farmers grew abundant crops of wheat, barley, fruits, and vegetables, sustaining entire communities. The region, particularly the Khabur River Valley, is home to approximately 34 Assyrian villages, established by Christian Assyrians who settled there following the Simele Massacre in 1933.  However, as droughts intensified and upstream dams in neighboring Turkey restricted water flow, the Khabur withered, forcing many to abandon traditional farming and turn to deep wells or, in some cases, leave their villages altogether.

Now, after years of near-total dryness, the river has made an unexpected return. The sudden influx of water has provided a glimmer of hope to farmers who have struggled with rising irrigation costs and dwindling groundwater supplies. But as they rush to salvage what they can, uncertainty looms: Is this a temporary reprieve, or could it signal a more permanent shift?

Khabur’s Revival Sparks Regret and Opportunity

For John Ikhtiyar, a 69-year-old Assyrian farmer from the village of Tel Massas, the sight of water in the Khabur brings mixed emotions.

“For years, we left our lands fallow because there was no water,” he said. “Now that the river has returned, we regret not planting earlier.”

Like many in the region, Ikhtiyar relies on alternative sources of irrigation, including wells powered by solar energy. But deep wells are expensive to maintain, and their output is nothing compared to the river’s powerful flow. With the Khabur running again for the first time in years, those who had sown their fields early are now reaping the rewards. Others, caught off guard, can only watch as the opportunity slips away.

“In the past, every home had a thriving orchard,” Ikhtiyar recalled. “But without the river, the trees dried up. The land was once full of apple, pomegranate, and olive trees. Now, it’s mostly wheat and barley because they can survive with less water.”

Cost of Survival: Deep Wells and Diesel

In Mahriqan, another Assyrian village along the Khabur, Daoud Eliya describes the gradual decline of agriculture in the region.

“In the 1990s, we started losing access to river irrigation,” he said. “We had no choice but to dig wells.”

The transition was costly. Unlike the Khabur’s free-flowing water, well irrigation requires fuel to run pumps — an expensive and increasingly unsustainable burden.

“A barrel of diesel now costs up to a million Syrian Pounds (about $70 USD),” Eliya explained. “Most farmers can’t afford that. We’re forced to ration water, and many have reduced their cultivated land or given up farming entirely.”

Even for those who can afford well irrigation, the quality of groundwater is far from ideal. Years of excessive pumping have led to increased salinity, making it nearly impossible to sustain fruit orchards.

“The trees can’t survive on well water,” Eliya said. “The salt kills them. But with the Khabur, we could grow anything.”

Emigration Driven by Water Scarcity

The collapse of the Khabur’s water supply has triggered a wave of emigration from the region. In the Assyrian village of Tel Sakra (Gundikta), once home to 55 Assyrian families, only 18 remain.

Boulus Odisho, a 67-year-old Assyrian farmer, is among those who refuse to leave.

“We love this land,” he said. “But without water, how do we survive?”

The return of the Khabur has been a welcome relief, but Odisho knows it may not last. He and his neighbors have adapted by installing powerful pumps, taking advantage of the river’s flow while they can.

“With river water, we can irrigate ten times the land we could with wells,” he explained. “It costs less, and the crops grow better. But how long will this last?”

For many, the uncertainty is unbearable. Assyrian farmers who once cultivated vast fields are now relocating to urban centers, seeking jobs as laborers in cities like Beth Zalin (Qamishli) and Hasakah. Others have left Syria altogether, joining the growing ranks of refugees in neighboring countries.

“This region used to be green,” Odisho said. “Now it’s turning into a desert.”

What’s Behind the Khabur’s Sudden Return?

Experts are still debating the reasons behind the Khabur’s resurgence. Some believe recent rainfall upstream has temporarily replenished the river. Others suggest that Turkey, which controls several large dams on the Khabur’s tributaries, may have released excess water.

Whatever the cause, the flow remains unstable. While some farmers have reported a steady stream for a few weeks, others say the water has already begun to recede.

“There are rumors that it could last a month, maybe more,” said Eliya. “But no one knows for sure.”

The fate of the Khabur River is a microcosm of a larger crisis affecting Syria’s agricultural sector. Years of war, climate change, and geopolitical disputes over water resources have devastated farming communities.

International organizations have warned that water shortages in Syria could worsen in the coming years. According to a 2023 UN report, up to 60% of Syria’s land is at risk of desertification due to declining rainfall and unsustainable water management practices.