The United Nations is racing against the clock to find new shelter for tens of thousands of displaced Syrians currently living in schools in Syria’s Sweida province, as the start of the new academic year looms and humanitarian aid funding hits record lows. The urgency comes after a summer marked by fierce sectarian clashes that left hundreds dead and forced more than 187,000 people—mostly from the Druze community—to flee their homes, according to reporting from the Associated Press and Devdiscourse.
For months, the classrooms of Sweida have been transformed into makeshift refuges, their blackboards and desks now silent witnesses to the trauma of war. But with September’s school opening dates approaching—some as early as the first week of the month, others later—local authorities, the Damascus government, and the United Nations face mounting pressure to clear the buildings for returning students. The challenge is formidable: Syria’s education infrastructure, battered by years of civil war, is already stretched thin, with roughly 40% of schools nationwide out of service and an estimated 2.5 million children out of classrooms, as Adam Abdelmoula, the UN’s humanitarian coordinator for Syria, told reporters.
The violence that led to this crisis unfolded in the summer of 2025, when sectarian tensions erupted between Sunni Muslim Bedouin clans and members of the Druze sect in Sweida, a province in southwestern Syria. The clashes were among the deadliest in the region’s recent history, resulting in hundreds of civilian deaths—most of them Druze, according to both Devdiscourse and the Associated Press. The fighting sent shockwaves through the province, leaving entire neighborhoods deserted and families with nowhere to turn but the nearest available shelter: the local schools.
Now, as the dust settles, the displaced face an uncertain future. The government in Damascus and local Druze authorities in Sweida remain locked in a standoff, unable to agree on a clear plan for the return of those uprooted by the violence. Officials have repeatedly insisted that the displacement is only temporary, but so far, they have offered no concrete alternatives or timelines for when families might return home. As the Associated Press notes, the lack of a government plan has left many feeling abandoned and anxious about what lies ahead.
In the absence of decisive action from authorities, the United Nations has stepped in to coordinate the search for alternative accommodations. The options on the table are varied: moving people into public buildings, youth centers, subsidized rental properties, or repairing damaged houses so families can return. While Syrian authorities have floated the idea of setting up new camps for the displaced, the UN is pushing back hard. “The last thing Syria needs is to see more camps going up,” Abdelmoula said in a recent statement, emphasizing that more sustainable and dignified solutions are both possible and necessary.
“Relocating them to public buildings or youth centers, or offering subsidized rentals and house repairs is very manageable,” Abdelmoula added, according to the Associated Press. His comments reflect a growing consensus among aid groups that camps, while expedient, often become semi-permanent fixtures that fail to address the underlying needs of displaced populations. Instead, the UN and its partners are advocating for solutions that promote stability and allow families to rebuild their lives with dignity.
The logistical challenges are daunting. Across Syria, the scars of more than a decade of civil war are everywhere, from bombed-out neighborhoods to shattered infrastructure. The education system is among the hardest hit: with nearly half of schools damaged or destroyed, even students in relatively stable areas struggle to find a desk. The influx of displaced people into functioning schools in Sweida has only exacerbated the crisis, threatening to keep even more children out of the classroom as the new school year begins.
Yet, amid the chaos, there are glimmers of hope. Aid groups report that restrictions on humanitarian work in Syria have eased significantly since the dramatic ouster of President Bashar Assad in December 2024—a development that took much of the world by surprise. According to Abdelmoula, “There has been a steady progress in terms of the permissiveness that this government is allowing us.” Borders with Jordan and Turkey are now open, and Damascus Airport is fully operational, allowing for smoother coordination among aid agencies and a more reliable flow of supplies into the country.
This newfound flexibility has made it easier for humanitarian organizations to reach those in need and to coordinate their efforts with both local and international partners. However, these gains have been overshadowed by an equally dramatic drop in funding. “We are seeing the lowest level of funding for the humanitarian effort in Syria this year,” Abdelmoula warned, as cited by both Devdiscourse and the Associated Press. The funding shortfall threatens to undermine the very progress made in recent months, forcing aid groups to make painful choices about which programs to prioritize and which communities to serve.
The reasons for this funding crunch are complex. After years of protracted conflict, donor fatigue has set in among many traditional supporters of Syrian relief efforts. At the same time, new crises elsewhere in the world—from Ukraine to Sudan—have stretched the resources of international donors even thinner. The result is a perfect storm: just as humanitarian access improves and the need for assistance spikes, the money to provide that aid is drying up.
For the displaced families of Sweida, these global dynamics translate into very immediate concerns. As the start of school draws near, many wonder where they will sleep, how their children will continue their education, and what the future holds. The UN’s efforts to find alternative shelter are a lifeline, but with limited resources and political gridlock, the path forward is anything but clear.
In a region where sectarian tensions can flare up with little warning and the legacy of war is ever-present, the fate of Sweida’s displaced is a stark reminder of the immense challenges still facing Syria. The coming weeks will be critical—not just for the families seeking shelter, but for the country’s fragile hopes for recovery and stability.