ANALYSIS: Two Norwegian deminers killed in Kherson — a documented war crime

June 24, 2026: a Russian strike on a demining team

On June 24, 2026, in the Kherson region of southern Ukraine, a Russian strike killed two deminers and wounded four others working for Norwegian People's Aid (NPA), one of the world's leading humanitarian demining organizations. The team was engaged in the removal of explosive remnants of war in a civilian area — the precise type of humanitarian operation that international humanitarian law places under absolute protection. This was not a military target. It was a deliberate or recklessly indiscriminate strike on a humanitarian mission.

The Kherson regional prosecutor's office opened proceedings under Article 438 of the Ukrainian Criminal Code — violation of the laws and customs of war — within hours of the attack. The Ukrainian classification is unambiguous: this is a documented war crime. International humanitarian law does not permit strikes on demining teams operating in civilian areas, regardless of the proximity to any front line. What happened on June 24 in Kherson is not a grey zone. It is a black line crossed.

Who is Norwegian People's Aid and what were they doing?

Norwegian People's Aid was founded in 1939 and today operates in more than 30 countries, with a staff of approximately 5,500 people. It is one of the most experienced humanitarian demining organizations in the world, having cleared explosive remnants of war in Angola, Cambodia, Mozambique, Iraq, and dozens of other post-conflict environments. In Ukraine, NPA has been working since the beginning of the full-scale invasion to clear landmines and unexploded ordnance from areas liberated from Russian occupation.

The deminers killed and wounded on June 24 were not soldiers. They were humanitarian workers engaged in saving civilian lives by removing the hidden legacy of war from fields, roadsides, and residential areas. Their work is classified as civilian by every applicable instrument of international law. The strike that killed them — whether deliberate targeting or criminal indifference to the distinction between combatants and civilians — constitutes a violation of the Geneva Conventions and their Additional Protocols.

There is a specific cruelty to targeting people who are trying to make a place safer. The deminers killed in Kherson were not taking sides in a military contest. They were removing the danger that the military contest had left behind. Killing them is not a military act. It is an act of calculated degradation — an attempt to make post-war reconstruction feel impossible before the war has even ended.

The protected status of humanitarian demining operations

International humanitarian law (IHL) — codified in the Geneva Conventions of 1949 and their Additional Protocols — establishes clear obligations for all parties to a conflict. Among the most fundamental: the principle of distinction, which requires belligerents to distinguish between civilian and military objectives and to direct attacks only against military targets. Humanitarian demining teams, working under a recognized humanitarian mandate in civilian areas, fall clearly within the protected civilian category.

The Ottawa Treaty on Anti-Personnel Mines and the Convention on Cluster Munitions further obligate signatories to facilitate humanitarian mine action in affected areas. Russia is not a signatory to either treaty — but both instruments reflect customary international law norms that are binding on all parties to armed conflict. The strike on the NPA team was not merely a violation of treaty obligations. It violated the customary norms that underpin the entire edifice of the laws of war.

Article 438 and the Ukrainian accountability framework

The Kherson regional prosecutor's office did not hesitate. The invocation of Article 438 — violation of the laws and customs of war — within hours of the strike reflects Ukraine's systematic approach to documenting Russian war crimes for future accountability. Since February 2022, Ukrainian prosecutors have opened more than 100,000 criminal proceedings related to Russian violations of IHL. Each documented case builds the evidentiary foundation for potential proceedings before the International Criminal Court or other international judicial mechanisms.

The documentation is not merely bureaucratic. It is strategic. Ukraine understands that the accountability process will extend well beyond the end of active hostilities, and that the quality of the evidentiary record being built now will determine whether individual perpetrators — commanders, planners, pilots — can eventually be held accountable. The June 24 strike on the NPA team is now part of that record. Its documentation is itself an act of resistance.

Opening a criminal proceeding on the day of the attack — that speed and precision matters. Ukraine has built a war crimes documentation machine that the perpetrators of these acts should fear. History has a long memory, and the record being compiled today will outlast this war. No commander who ordered strikes on humanitarian teams can claim ignorance of the consequences.

The scale of the demining challenge in Ukraine

Ukraine is currently the most heavily mined country in the world. Estimates from international organizations, including the United Nations Development Programme and the HALO Trust, suggest that approximately 174,000 square kilometres of Ukrainian territory — an area roughly equivalent to the size of Cambodia — are potentially contaminated with landmines, unexploded ordnance, and other explosive remnants of war. This contamination spans agricultural land, residential areas, forests, and infrastructure corridors.

The economic consequences are severe. Contaminated agricultural land cannot be farmed — and Ukraine's agriculture is not only central to its own economy but to global food security. Contaminated infrastructure corridors cannot be safely used. Contaminated residential areas cannot be resettled by the populations displaced by the war. Every square metre that deminers clear is a square metre of Ukraine's future restored. Every strike on a demining team is not just an attack on humanitarian workers — it is an attack on Ukraine's capacity to recover.

The chronic shortfall: too few deminers for too large a task

The scale of contamination vastly exceeds the current capacity to address it. Ukraine has fewer than 7,000 certified deminers — a number that represents a small fraction of what would be needed to clear the contaminated territory within any reasonable timeframe. International demining organizations, including NPA, have been working to expand capacity through training programs and equipment transfers, but the gap between what is needed and what is available remains enormous.

Norway has committed 75 billion Norwegian crowns over five years to Ukraine's reconstruction and support — one of the most substantial per-capita contributions of any allied nation. A significant portion of this support flows to humanitarian mine action. The killing of two NPA deminers on June 24 is therefore also an attack on Norway's investment in Ukraine's future — and an implicit message from Moscow about its intentions toward the civilian infrastructure of any Ukrainian territory it cannot hold militarily.

174,000 square kilometres. Every deminer we lose makes that number harder to bring down. The arithmetic is brutal: the mines accumulate faster than they can be cleared, and Russia is actively killing the people trying to clear them. This is not accidental. It is a strategy of making recovery feel impossible. Ukraine must prove it wrong.

A documented pattern of secondary strikes

The killing of the NPA deminers fits a documented Russian pattern in this war: the double-tap strike, in which a second strike follows a first within a short interval, targeting rescue workers and first responders arriving at the scene of an initial attack. This tactic has been documented by Amnesty International, Human Rights Watch, and numerous journalistic investigations. It is specifically designed to deter humanitarian response and compound the casualties of any initial strike.

Whether the June 24 strike on the NPA team was a deliberate targeting of a known humanitarian operation or a secondary strike timed to catch responders at the scene, the effect is the same: humanitarian workers are dead, and the message to all demining teams operating in Russian-affected areas is that their protective status under international law will not be respected. This message has implications far beyond the NPA team. It affects the willingness of international humanitarian organizations to maintain operations in active conflict zones — which is precisely the intended effect.

The chilling effect on humanitarian operations

The killing of humanitarian workers does not just eliminate the individuals involved. It sends a signal to the entire humanitarian community: operating in areas of Russian military activity carries life-threatening risk that no mandate or legal protection can fully mitigate. Humanitarian organizations operating in Ukraine have been forced to continuously reassess their risk protocols, restrict their operating areas, and accept that their international legal protection is not reliably honored by one party to the conflict.

This restriction has real-world consequences. Areas that could be cleared are not cleared. Populations that could return to liberated villages cannot return because the land is not safe. Agricultural land that could feed Ukrainian families and contribute to global food markets remains fallow because the clearance teams cannot operate safely. The attack on the NPA team in Kherson is not a single tragic event — it is a data point in a systematic campaign against the conditions of Ukraine's future recovery.

Every time a humanitarian worker is killed, the circle of what is possible shrinks. That is the logic behind targeting deminers: not to win a military battle, but to win the long-term campaign against Ukraine's recovery. The weapon is not the strike itself. The weapon is the fear the strike creates in the next team that tries to do the same work.

A prisoner exchange that happened while deminers were being buried

On June 26, 2026 — two days after the killing of the NPA deminers — Ukraine completed a prisoner of war exchange that brought home 160 Ukrainian soldiers from Russian captivity. President Zelensky announced the exchange personally, describing it as the result of months of negotiations through intermediary channels. The released soldiers had survived conditions in Russian detention that international monitors have described as systematic violations of the Geneva Conventions — inadequate food, medical deprivation, physical abuse, psychological torture.

The juxtaposition of these two events — deminers killed in Kherson on June 24, soldiers freed from Russian captivity on June 26 — captures something essential about the reality of this war. Ukraine is simultaneously dealing with the human consequences of ongoing Russian attacks and conducting the diplomatic and humanitarian work of recovering its people from captivity. The capacity to do both at once, without allowing the pain of one to paralyze the work of the other, is a measure of the institutional resilience that Ukraine has developed over four years of total war.

The conditions of Russian captivity: documented violations

The 160 soldiers returned on June 26 join tens of thousands of Ukrainians who have passed through Russian detention facilities since February 2022. The conditions they describe are consistent across thousands of individual testimonies: systematic beatings during transport and detention, inadequate food and water, denial of medical care for combat wounds, psychological coercion to sign statements renouncing Ukrainian identity or endorsing Russian territorial claims. These are not isolated incidents. They are a documented system.

Ukraine's Commissioner for Prisoner of War Affairs and international monitoring organizations including the International Committee of the Red Cross (ICRC) have documented these conditions in detail. The evidence base for future accountability proceedings — parallel to the war crimes files for strikes on civilian infrastructure and humanitarian workers — is substantial and growing. The return of the 160 on June 26 is a victory. But behind that victory is the knowledge of how many remain in captivity, and what they are enduring.

160 people came home. And behind that number are 160 individual stories of survival — of endurance in conditions that were designed to break them. Ukraine does not forget its prisoners. It negotiates for them, trades for them, fights for them diplomatically even while fighting militarily. That commitment to its own people is one of the things that makes this country worth defending.

75 billion crowns and a strategic commitment

Norway's commitment to Ukraine — 75 billion Norwegian crowns over five years, equivalent to approximately 6.5 billion euros — represents one of the most substantial contributions to Ukrainian support relative to national GDP among all allied nations. This commitment includes military aid, humanitarian assistance, economic support, and specifically demining operations. It reflects a Norwegian political consensus, across party lines, that the outcome of the war in Ukraine directly affects European security and the rules-based international order that Norway depends on.

The two NPA deminers killed on June 24 were among the human embodiment of that commitment — Norwegian citizens or employees of a Norwegian organization, carrying out work funded in part by Norwegian public resources, in service of Ukrainian civilians' right to live safely on their own land. Their deaths are a direct attack on Norway's contribution to Ukraine's future. The Norwegian government's response — a statement of condemnation, a commitment to continued support — was not a diplomatic formality. It was a statement of resolve under fire.

NPA's 87 years of humanitarian work: what is lost when its workers die

Norwegian People's Aid's 87 years of institutional history represent an irreplaceable repository of humanitarian expertise. The deminers who operate in Kherson are not recent graduates applying academic knowledge. They are experienced professionals who have worked in the most dangerous environments in the world, who have developed specialized knowledge of Russian-produced munitions, who know the specific characteristics of the ordnance being used in this conflict. Replacing them takes years — years of training, years of experience, years of exposure to operational conditions that cannot be simulated in a classroom.

The killing of experienced humanitarian workers is therefore a double loss: the immediate human tragedy and the loss of accumulated expertise that was being applied in service of Ukrainian civilians. For every deminer killed, there are fields that will not be cleared this season, families that will not be able to return to liberated villages this year, agricultural land that will remain unfarmed for another year. The ripple effects of a single strike on a humanitarian team extend far beyond the event itself.

87 years of Norwegian People's Aid — building expertise in some of the most dangerous places on earth. Two of those years were spent in Kherson, trying to make the land safe for the people who live there. What was lost on June 24 cannot be measured only in lives. It must be measured in the cleared land that will stay contaminated, the families that will not come home, the fields that will not be harvested. That is the true cost of this war crime.

Why targeting humanitarian workers serves Russian strategy

The pattern of Russian strikes on humanitarian infrastructure — hospitals, power stations, water treatment plants, demining teams — is not the result of poor targeting or collateral damage. It reflects a deliberate strategic logic: make Ukraine ungovernable, make recovery feel impossible, make the civilian population associate the continuation of resistance with continued suffering. This strategy of humanitarian degradation is designed to break the political will of a society even when military means alone cannot defeat its army.

The targeting of demining teams is particularly effective within this logic because it directly attacks Ukraine's capacity to rebuild after the war — not physical infrastructure like power plants, which can be repaired with external support, but human expertise and organizational capacity that takes years to rebuild. Every NPA deminer killed is a net reduction in Ukraine's post-war recovery capacity that cannot be quickly reversed through international aid or financial investment alone.

The international response: accountability as deterrence

The most effective response to the targeting of humanitarian workers is not just condemnation — it is accountability. The International Criminal Court, which has already issued arrest warrants against Vladimir Putin and Maria Lvova-Belova, is actively investigating Russian military conduct in Ukraine. The June 24 strike on the NPA team — documented by Ukrainian prosecutors, reported by international media, and supported by the institutional record of an organization with decades of credibility — adds to an evidentiary base that is being carefully constructed for future use.

The principle that accountability deters future crimes is contested — there are reasonable arguments that it does not, in the short term, change battlefield conduct. But the longer-term effect of establishing a clear and credible accountability framework may matter more than immediate deterrence. Commanders who know that their orders are being documented, preserved, and analyzed for future prosecution make different calculations than those who believe themselves to be operating in a consequence-free environment. The documentation of the Kherson war crime is part of that accountability architecture.

Accountability is a long game. The arrest warrant for Putin did not stop the war. But it changed the geography of his world — there are countries he cannot visit, institutions that cannot receive him, conversations that cannot happen at the international level. The documentation of war crimes against humanitarian workers is building the same architecture, brick by brick. It will matter eventually. And it is right to build it now.

From contaminated land to viable agriculture

Ukraine's agricultural sector — among the most productive in the world, supplying grain to dozens of countries across Africa, the Middle East, and Asia — cannot recover while its fields are laced with mines and unexploded ordnance. The 174,000 square kilometres of contaminated territory include vast tracts of agricultural land in the south and east that were among Ukraine's most productive before the war. Clearing this land is not merely a humanitarian priority. It is a food security imperative that extends well beyond Ukraine's borders.

The international community's investment in humanitarian demining in Ukraine is therefore also an investment in global food security. Organizations like NPA, the HALO Trust, the Danish Demining Group, and dozens of Ukrainian domestic organizations are not only protecting Ukrainian civilians — they are working to restore the agricultural capacity of a country that feeds 400 million people worldwide. The killing of demining workers is, in this context, an act that harms not just Ukraine but every country that depends on Ukrainian grain exports.

The long arc of reconstruction: what needs to be true for Ukraine to recover

Ukraine's recovery from this war will require decades. The physical destruction — infrastructure, housing, industrial capacity — is immense but measurable and repairable with sufficient investment and time. The mine contamination is different: it is invisible, decentralized, and impossible to address quickly regardless of the financial resources available. Even in the optimistic scenario where the war ends and demining operations can expand dramatically, the contaminated area is so vast that full clearance will take decades at current technology and capacity levels.

New technologies — autonomous demining robots, artificial intelligence-assisted detection, remote sensing — offer the prospect of dramatically accelerating clearance rates. International investment in these technologies, specifically oriented toward the Ukrainian context, is one of the most valuable contributions that the international community can make. But no technology eliminates the need for trained human operators at the critical point of clearance. Every deminer killed represents a loss that technology alone cannot replace.

The contaminated land is Ukraine's invisible wound — the one that will outlast the combat, outlast the headlines, outlast the attention of the international community. Long after the cameras have moved on, Ukrainian farmers will still be encountering mines in their fields. Long after the ceasefire — whenever it comes — the deminers will still be doing their dangerous, irreplaceable work. The least we can do is make sure they can do it safely.

The danger of atrocity fatigue

The killing of two NPA deminers in Kherson on June 24, 2026 is one documented war crime among thousands that have been recorded since February 2022. The danger of this accumulation is atrocity fatigue — the numbing effect that prevents each individual crime from receiving the moral weight it deserves. This article refuses that numbness. Two humanitarian workers were deliberately or recklessly killed while engaged in the most protected form of civilian activity — removing the tools of war from civilian land. This is not background noise. It is a signal.

The signal is that Russia has not changed its approach to the laws of war. It has not internalized the constraints that the international community has attempted to impose through accountability mechanisms, public documentation, and sanctions. It continues to strike humanitarian workers, civilian infrastructure, and protected persons with a casualness that reflects either deliberate policy or an institutional culture in which such strikes carry no cost. Both explanations are deeply alarming. Neither is acceptable.

What accountability requires from the international community

The accountability for the June 24 Kherson strike requires more than a statement of condemnation. It requires continued support for Ukrainian prosecutors building the legal case, continued financial support for the ICC investigation, continued political will to maintain the sanctions architecture that imposes costs on Russia for its conduct, and continued investment in demining operations that refuse to be deterred by the targeting of humanitarian workers. The two NPA deminers who were killed were doing the right thing in a dangerous place. Honoring their deaths requires doing the right things in the safer places where we make the decisions that matter.

Two Norwegians came to Kherson to make it safer. They were killed for doing so. That fact should not be absorbed into the general flow of war reporting as if it were ordinary. It is not ordinary. It is a war crime against people whose only weapon was a mine detector. We owe them the honesty of calling it what it is — and the resolve to ensure it is remembered when the time for justice comes.

By Maxime Marquette, columnist

Editorial stance

I am not a journalist but a columnist and analyst. My expertise lies in observing and analysing the geopolitical, economic and strategic dynamics that shape our world. My work is to take political strategies apart, to understand global economic movements, to put the decisions of international actors in context and to offer analytical perspectives on the changes that are redefining our societies.

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