For over 30 years, studies have examined what drives child recruitment, whether voluntary or forced. Yet, despite global attention, the problem is worsening. I have personally worked through several assignments to the reintegration of former child soldiers, and the same question remains: if they did not join voluntarily, what real alternatives do they have to rebuild their lives after reintegration? And what alternatives do they have to joining armed forces or groups in the first place? Reintegration efforts often focus on standardised services that fail to consider the realities of these children—their needs, ambitions, and dreams. Their agency is constantly overlooked. They are rarely seen as individuals capable of making decisions, forming opinions, or shaping their own futures.
Too often, they are excluded from decisions about their own reintegration. Instead, discussions while promoting reintegration models, rehabilitation programmes, and prevention strategies, should further explore how to prevent conflicts from emerging in the first place or how to build communities that can distance themselves from violence (where possible).
The increase in child recruitment is not just a consequence of poverty or lack of opportunity—it is also tied to the erosion of international law and global commitments. Violations of the very agreements designed to protect children are becoming alarmingly frequent, and yet, there is little ability—or perhaps willingness—to enforce them. The abduction and forced recruitment of children are no longer shocking violations; they have become a normalised part of modern warfare. This should concern us all. If international law is ignored so blatantly, what prevents further degradation of human rights protections? What message does this send to governments and armed groups? The failure to hold perpetrators accountable only fuels further breaches of international law.
Child recruitment is a strategic choice by armed groups and governments. Children are more vulnerable, easier to manipulate, cheaper to maintain than adult soldiers. They require little training, rarely demand pay, and have a high level of adaptability. Many do not desert, either because they fear the consequences or because they see no viable alternative. Recruiters specifically target vulnerable children from impoverished backgrounds, knowing that for them, joining an armed group may seem like the only way to eat, gain status, or belong to something greater. In some conflicts, ideological motivations also play a role, as well as a desire for a purpose, sense of belonging. Armed groups also serve as surrogate families, offering structure and identity to children who have lost everything. And this is often a void that reintegration fails to fill, placing children back in the very conditions that pushed them to join in the first place—making re-recruitment almost inevitable.
The consequences are devastating—both during recruitment and after. Children recruited into armed forces experience severe psychological and neurological damage, leading to long-term trauma, post-traumatic stress disorder, and often violent or antisocial behaviour in adulthood. Reintegration is rarely as simple as removing a child from war and placing them in a rehabilitation programme. Without sustainable, long-term solutions, these children remain vulnerable to re-recruitment or social isolation. Reintegration and prevention are deeply interconnected, yet funding for such efforts remains limited, often lasting only a few months or a couple of years—far too short to create lasting change. A one-off reintegration programme cannot undo years of trauma, violence, and indoctrination.
A critical yet often neglected aspect of this crisis is the failure to invest in preventing child recruitment. Efforts tend to focus on demobilisation and reintegration, but the real solution lies in ensuring children never become soldiers in the first place. Addressing the root causes—poverty, lack of education, economic instability, and weak governance—is essential. Prevention is not just about child protection; it is conflict management, mitigating risks, peacebuilding. Yet, there is a fragile and inconsistent commitment between peace, humanitarian, and development actors in prioritising this long-term approach.
And here is where international law comes into play. The UN Convention on the Rights of the Child and its Optional Protocol on the Involvement of Children in Armed Conflict were hailed as milestones, yet despite their ratification by 173 countries, child recruitment continues to rise. Armed groups are now recruiting more children than ever before, from Colombia to the Democratic Republic of Congo, from the Sahel to Syria and Haiti. If international law is meant to protect these children, why does it feel so powerless?
Many assume international law operates like national law, with an overarching authority to enforce compliance. But international law does not have a central enforcer—it relies on the mutual trust and cooperation of states. Governments sign agreements voluntarily, pledging to uphold them in the hope that others will do the same. But when some break their commitments without consequence, the entire system weakens. If trust in international law continues to erode, what incentive remains for any state to follow the rules?
International law is not self-executing; it is only as strong as the will of states to enforce it. It is a tool, not a guarantee, but that does not mean it is without power. The long-standing peace in Europe, for example, owes much to the strength of international legal agreements. For international law to remain relevant, it must be actively reinforced and adapted to modern challenges. This requires more than just treaties—it requires political will, consistent enforcement, and global cooperation. Governments must be held accountable when they violate child protection laws. The International Criminal Court (ICC) must prioritise the prosecution of those responsible for child recruitment. Sanctions, diplomatic pressure, and targeted legal action should be used against states and armed groups that exploit children.
The solution is not simply more treaties or resolutions; it is about ensuring those agreements have teeth. We need long-term funding for prevention, institutionalised reintegration efforts, and a global commitment to restore faith in international and humanitarian law.
If we do nothing—if we allow treaties to become meaningless words on paper—we risk normalising the very crimes we once swore to prevent. The world cannot afford to let child soldiers become an accepted reality of war.
Z.Liew
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