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Investigations using forensic methods don't always guarantee definitive answers for families of the missing.

An anthropologist surpasses the boundaries of medical-legal sciences to decipher the tactics employed by individuals when confronted with the uncertainties of battle-scarred regions.

Researcher delves deeper than conventional medical-legal understanding to dissect human tactics in...
Researcher delves deeper than conventional medical-legal understanding to dissect human tactics in response to uncertainty within contentious regions.

Investigations using forensic methods don't always guarantee definitive answers for families of the missing.

In the sweltering summer of 2020, I stumbled upon Aunt Sarmaya in a lush, northern Azerbaijani village. Withheld names in this tale to safeguard identities. We found ourselves seated in her charming garden, where she regaled me with tales about her son, Mahir, who vanished during the grueling first Nagorno-Karabakh war (1988-1994) between Armenia and Azerbaijan.

Following her son's vanishing act, Aunt Sarmaya sought comfort in the mystical wisdom of a soothsayer name Malahat. Malahat prophesied that Mahir was alive, struck a new life amid Armenia with his wife and children. She even conjured vivid descriptions of Mahir's appearance—marked by a childhood scar on his forehead. Ever since, Aunt Sarmaya clung to the beacon of hope for her son's return.

I last met Aunt Sarmaya in chilly November 2022. I probed if she had received any word of her son's whereabouts. In conjunction with the International Committee of the Red Cross (ICRC), the Azerbaijani government embarked on the ambitious project of exhuming clandestine graves to identify human remains. Years of unending doubt cast upon countless families seemed like it may be lifted.

But Aunt Sarmaya shook her head, quickly adding, "But Malahat told me that my son is alive. He is not dead." Her countenance gleamed as she recounted the story once more. Days later, Aunt Sarmaya bid her final farewells, all the while exhumations in Azerbaijan continued.

According to ICRC offices in Azerbaijan and Armenia, over 3,890 individuals remain unaccounted for on the Azerbaijani side, and around 400 on the Armenian side due to the first Nagorno-Karabakh war. I've had the fortune to know many of these families as an ICRC humanitarian worker and then as an anthropologist.

The principle of respectfully treating, identifying, and returning mortal remains from conflicts was first established in Article 17 of the First Geneva Convention in 1949. This fundamental doctrine has become a cornerstone of global humanitarian action. To uphold these norms, the ICRC relies on medical-legal expertise and technologies as they combat the deplorable aftermaths of conflicts, disasters, and migrations.

For some, forensic science is heralded as the golden ticket to truth and resolution for grieving families. Yet, forensic science fails to provide unequivocal answers for all.

In essence, implementing these methods requires great resources: time, money, and political backing. Even legal professionals themselves concede that the chances of finding most of the missing remains within a reasonable timeframe are remote, if not nonexistent. When technical approaches overpromise and underdeliver, it amplifies the uncertainty for families—a cruel twist of fate.

Beyond these practical limitations, forensic science is among several means to bring truth and healing to communities facing the devastation of losing a loved one. Like Aunt Sarmaya, many people I've met have turned to alternative means, such as clairvoyance, dreams, rumors, and bodily sensations, to make sense of their hardships. Instead of dismissing these methods, my research indicates that these narratives should be given due consideration and regarded as valid coping strategies for managing unresolved trauma.

Premier among various agencies in unveiling the fate of the missing following the first Nagorno-Karabakh war, the ICRC led efforts in both Azerbaijan and Armenia. Between 2014 and 2022, their Azerbaijan office collected DNA samples from thousands of family members of missing persons. Fusing this data with medical records, personal backgrounds, and relevant information, they work diligently to identify human remains. Presently, they are aiding the government in the excavation of clandestine graves. As of May 2024, a remarkable total of 73 individuals had been discovered and identified, returned to their grateful families.

However, the process of medico-legal investigation has been sluggish, as I bore witness to during my tenure there between 2017 and 2019. To comprehend the causes behind this delay, one must dive into the history of the region and its entrenched conflict roots.

The Armenians and Azerbaijanis share a lengthy coexistence in the South Caucasus, not without tension and territorial disputes. In 1920, the territories of modern-day Armenia and Azerbaijan fell under Soviet control after a brief period of independence from the Russian Empire. The diverse populations were inexorably subjected to divisive Soviet policies, fostering ethnic animosity. As the Soviet Union succumbed to dissolution in the late 1980s, clashes between the two nations spiraled into the catastrophic first Nagorno-Karabakh war. Both Armenian and Azerbaijani forces killed and forcefully displaced members of the opposing ethnicity from their lands.

During the Nagorno-Karabakh region and surrounding seven districts, up to 600,000 Azerbaijani citizens were expelled from their homes when Armenian forces took control of these territories between 1988 and 1994. Three decades of diplomacy bore no results, culminating in Azerbaijan's declaration of a large-scale military campaign in 2020, marking the start of the Second Nagorno-Karabakh War, which lasted 44 days. Since then, scattered Azerbaijanis have returned home, but most remain unable to do so due to the persistent danger posed by unexploded mines dating back decades of conflict, further complicating the ongoing exhumation process. Most graves containing unidentified remains are presumed to be in Nagorno-Karabakh and the seven formerly occupied regions.

Tensions escalated once more in September 2023. Over 100,000 Armenians were forced to flee their homes in Nagorno-Karabakh when Azerbaijan enforced a protracted blockade on the territory, sparking a humanitarian crisis. After a 24-hour military offensive by the Azerbaijani army, the self-proclaimed Republic of Artsakh in Nagorno-Karabakh surrendered and disbanded its armed forces. The Republic of Nagorno-Karabakh ceased to exist on January 1, 2024, and its territory was reintegrated under Azerbaijani control.

Armenia maintains its position in this conflict based on the self-determination principle. Among Nagorno-Karabakh's Armenian majority, self-administration is supported. Conversely, the Azerbaijani government vigorously asserts the sovereign right to defend Nagorno-Karabakh, internationally recognized as part of Azerbaijan.

Yet, both arguments perpetuate a vicious cycle of exclusion and division. The parties remain far from striking a compromise that would benefit Azerbaijanis, Armenians, and other ethnic groups in the region, in an atmosphere of understanding and mutual respect.

ENDURING UNCERTAINTY

Life in war-torn regions is marked by unremitting uncertainty, hope, and dread. Communities in these destructive milieus often ponder over the origins and timing of a loved one's disappearance. Researchers across various continents have documented the advantages and drawbacks of forensic science in resolving these undetermined questions.

Some families may hesitate to face another period of uncertainty, spent waiting to find out if forensic technology can live up to its promise of locating, unearthing, and identifying the remains of their loved ones through DNA matching. This uncertainty intensifies when families are left with incomplete remains, making it challenging to tell a complete story of their loved one's loss.

In other cases, researchers, families, and anthropologists have observed that they may turn to alternative sources of encouragement when the circumstances surrounding losses are scientifically unverifiable or uncertain. Dreams, spiritual experiences, and rumors serve as invaluable coping mechanisms in these situations.

Aunt Sarmaya was not an isolated case. In one heartbreaking conversation, I met a woman named Reyhan who spoke of her missing husband, Salim, also a victim of the war in the 1990s. Reyhan chronicled a dream where Salim returned home, held her hand, and conversed with her. Upon awakening, there was no one beside her—but she could still feel the warmth in the hand Salim held in her dream. "Ever since that day," she told me, "I've lost hope. That means his soul visited me. Maybe it was the day he died."

In a clip from the ethnographic film "We Live with Maybes": The Search for Missing Relatives in Post-War Azerbaijan, Reyhan shares her dream about her missing husband.

Reyhan’s dream gave her understanding of her husband’s fate. The dream provided her with a means to cope with complex emotions and interpret her experiences in a meaningful way. Her sense of certainty did not offer an absolute answer to her ambiguous situation, but it enabled her to take control over her own interpretation of life.

Whether we choose to believe the personal accounts of Aunt Sarmaya or Reyhan is not the crux of the matter; it’s the significance of creating an environment that allows for the creation of genuine connections with those we hold dear, no matter the circumstances.

BEYOND FORENSIC SCIENCE

The dismissal of forensic science is by no means urged. In some reaches of the world, forensic exhumations have played, and continue to play, a crucial role in exposing political atrocities and challenging human rights violations.

In Guatemala, for instance, these investigations provided crucial evidence of state-orchestrated massacres during the civil war, bolstering ongoing initiatives for justice and reconciliation. Similarly, in Argentina, the work of medical-legal teams offered vital insights into the horrors of the "Dirty War," although challenges persist in enforcing the duty to prosecute. Recently, international organizations have petitioned for independent forensic investigations in Gaza as evidence of human rights violations and war crimes committed by Israeli forces against Palestinians mounts. In Ukraine, forensic efforts have intensified to address the urgent demand for the identification of missing persons and document war crimes, primarily committed by Russian forces.

Tens of thousands of families from Azerbaijan also long for a sacred place to mourn their missing loved ones, a final resting place where they could receive their remains and bury them. Medical-legal technologies can play a pivotal role in achieving this goal, but families often face divisions regarding the significance of such investigations.

To adequately address the nuanced requirements of all those impacted by enforced disappearances, humanitarian workers must go beyond a myopic focus on scientific truth and medical-legal technologies. They must appreciate the worth of incorporating personal stories, shared beliefs, and broader political circumstances into their work.

This holistic approach, strengthened by the inclusion of sociocultural anthropologists at every stage of humanitarian work, can enable customized forms of care for affected communities and pave the way for other modes of healing.

  1. Malahat's prophecy, shared by Aunt Sarmaya, contrasts with the ongoing forensic investigations by the ICRC under Article 17 of the First Geneva Convention, as she insists that her son, Mahir, is alive and not among the missing due to the first Nagorno-Karabakh war.
  2. The search for missing persons in war-torn areas extends beyond forensic science, as families such as Aunt Sarmaya and Reyhan seek comfort in dreams, spiritual experiences, and alternative narratives, offering invaluable coping mechanisms in the face of scientific ambiguity and uncertainty.

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