Ali, 31, leaves his house around 5 a.m., carrying his tools (a saw and an axe) along with a bit of food, heading toward the mountains in the countryside of Masyaf, in Hama Governorate. His goal is to produce natural charcoal, locally known as tafheem (charcoal-making), by cutting down trees, especially oak, and burning them through a method locally referred to as mashhara. The goal is to obtain charcoal used for hookahs and grilling.

This has become a familiar path for Ali and many other residents of rural Hama and other parts of Syria, especially as the economic situation has deteriorated over the years, a crisis that worsened after the fall of the Bashar al-Assad regime and the dismissal of many employees from their jobs.

Ali, a former worker at a cultural center, says: “I have no other source of income left. The mountains have become the only refuge to make a little money to buy food and water.”

Every morning or noon, many people, some as young as 12, head into the mountains, either on motorcycles or on foot, united by one goal: to earn money from firewood and charcoal. Ali walks through paths both familiar and unfamiliar, explaining: “I have a hard time finding firewood. It’s no longer abundant. I walk very long distances to find suitable trees for charcoal, which have become very scarce.”

This profession was relatively common even before the regime’s collapse due to low wages. Today, however, it has become a main source of income, especially after the mass layoffs, particularly in Alawite-populated areas.

Geography of the Charcoal Kilns

Across the mountains, you’ll find dozens of charcoal kilns (mashahir), whose numbers have increased since 2011. These range from individual makeshift kilns to larger commercial operations. Most operate secretly, as they are generally illegal, unless licensed under certain conditions based on laws issued during Assad’s rule. These include being at least one kilometer away from forests and registering an official charcoal production center.

However, most kilns remain unlicensed due to complex bureaucracy and demands for bribes in exchange for approvals, pushing many to work underground.

Before the fall of Bashar al-Assad’s regime, the trade of firewood and charcoal was controlled by powerful figures and militia leaders who set prices and oversaw operations. Trucks transporting charcoal had to pay bribes at multiple checkpoints to pass, providing the regime with a source of income.

Today, the situation is somewhat different. These charcoal kilns continue to operate in secrecy, though in recent times, patrols from the agriculture and forestry departments have been dispatched to shut them down. A source at Hama’s Agriculture Directorate states that there are currently no existing licenses, and no clear vision has yet been developed regarding these operations. However, patrols are sent out, especially in the summer, to prevent charcoal production due to fire risk.

The Charcoal-Making Process

The process starts with collecting firewood, especially oak. This can take weeks due to the difficulty in finding wood, as many mountains have been stripped bare over the past decade. Since around ten years ago, locals have heavily relied on firewood for heating during the winter, given the high fuel prices and low purchasing power.

Rami, 25, explains: “We collect the firewood and cut it into evenly-sized pieces. Then, we stack the pieces inside a pit dug into the ground. The pile is covered with oak leaves and soil to isolate the kiln from the outside environment, leaving a small opening to light the fire.”

Oak is preferred above all for charcoal production because it is odorless, produces no smoke, retains its shape, and is ideal for grilling or hookahs. Lemon wood or oak can also be used. Rami, who left his university studies in Damascus due to the deteriorating security and economic situation, leaves the kiln unattended for several days until it cools on its own. However, he checks on it twice a day to ensure everything is in order.

After three or four days—depending on the burning and cooling process—the kiln is dismantled, and the charcoal is collected and packed into special sacks to be handed over to a middleman, who then sells it to traders.

“Once I reach this stage, I start working on a new kiln because of how hard the economic situation is. I have to support my family,” Rami says.

Exhausting Labor, Meager Wages

After weeks of gathering and cutting wood, and then preparing the kiln, the workers don’t earn nearly enough to match the effort put in. Yet, as Ali puts it, “A pebble can support a jar.” He describes this line of work as exhausting, but he continues to do it daily: “We have nothing left but to work with firewood. We don’t make much money, but even a little helps, we need to secure food and water,” he adds: “I don’t know who the charcoal is sold to. All that matters is that I get some money. The economic situation is dire, and there’s no sign of relief, especially for the Alawites.”

With more people turning to woodcutting and charcoal-making, the market has become saturated, leading to a drop in prices, according to one middleman who buys directly from locals.

Despite the trembling in his hands and physical weakness, Abu Mohammad still heads to the mountains every day:

“I work in charcoal production. Before the fall of the regime, prices were better, but now so many people are doing it. You can’t blame them, everyone is trying to make money to feed themselves.”

The price of one kilogram of charcoal sold to middlemen ranges between 7,000 to 10,000 Syrian pounds (with one dollar equal to 9,200 SYP), depending on its quality. Charcoal specifically used for grilling sells for 2,000 to 5,000 SYP per kilogram.

A small kiln that requires 300 kilograms of firewood typically produces 60 to 70 kilograms of charcoal. Larger commercial kilns that use 1 to 1.5 tons of firewood can yield up to 200 kilograms of charcoal.

These quantities are sold to middlemen in designated areas, who in turn sell them to merchants in different governorates, particularly Damascus, where the charcoal is used for grilling and hookahs in restaurants.

A Threat to Nature… and a Call to Support Local Communities

As you pass through the villages of rural Hama, you’ll see many mountains scorched, stripped bare with only a few trees left standing, while others await their turn to be cut. This scene can be seen across mountainous regions in Syria. The country has lost more than one-third of its forests since 2011, according to a 2023 study by PAX, a peace organization based in the Netherlands.

This loss is due to wartime shelling, wildfires, tree-cutting, and charcoal production, all of which have severely damaged the vegetation and hindered its regeneration, without any serious efforts to stop the destruction.

Environmental activist Mohammad Younes (pseudonym) explains that Syria’s mountains and forests are in serious danger if these practices aren’t halted and restoration efforts don’t begin. He warns against turning a blind eye to firewood gathering and charcoal production.

Younes believes that one of the most effective solutions is to reinstate the employees who were arbitrarily dismissed, provide inclusive support for all components of society, and restore security, free from the rule and actions of armed factions, which include raids, random gunfire, and kidnapping. These threats prevent residents from leaving their villages, making the mountains their only remaining means of survival.