Questionable incentives
Why is the CEO of the world’s largest demining organisation defending banned landmines?
In November 2024, the United States ventured into perilous territory when under the Biden administration, it announced it would ship anti-personnel landmines to Ukraine. With their devastating humanitarian toll, these weapons are seen as controversial and outmoded — so the shock was palpable when an unexpected voice spoke out to defend their use: James Cowan, CEO of The HALO Trust, the largest humanitarian demining charity in the world.
In one of two opinion pieces penned soon after the US announcement, Cowan urged countries not to condemn the shipment of mines, but instead to “support Ukraine in its struggle for survival while ensuring that the tools of war do not become permanent fixtures of its landscape.” Cowan, a former British soldier, later appeared on live television, where he seemed to question the core tenets of the Mine Ban Treaty, a celebrated international law that bans landmines in 165 countries — including Ukraine — and is credited with saving civilian lives worldwide.
Cowan’s comments enter the fray as the treaty is facing unexpected defections, with five countries including Finland and Poland recently announcing plans to withdraw, citing Russia’s advancing threat. Beyond the potential effect of Cowan’s remarks on that process, his words have triggered some soul-searching over what the objectives of humanitarian demining should be, in an increasingly conflict-riven world.
“It’s highly disturbing, from our point of view, that the leader of an organisation dedicated to removing the threat to people from landmines, would promote any use of any kind of anti-personnel landmines,” says Tamar Gabelnick, director of the International Campaign to Ban Landmines.
The Mine Ban Treaty was propelled into being in 1997 by evidence of the humanitarian harms that these weapons inflict. Data shows that 80% of the victims of mines and explosive remnants of war are civilians, with some estimates finding as many as 49% of those are children who often stray unawares onto mine-laced land, where weapons can remain unexploded decades after conflicts end. Research shows that these weapons offer little defensive value. While they cost as little as $3 to make, removing them can cost up to $1,000 per mine. Meanwhile, since the Mine Ban Treaty was established, landmine use has dramatically declined, as have landmine-related civilian casualties by 75%.
“The convention is a huge success” and bringing anti-personnel landmines back into modern warfare “makes very little sense,” says Aksel Steen-Nilsen, director of Humanitarian Mine Action and Disarmament at the mine action NGO, Norwegian People’s Aid. He suspects that states are withdrawing in spite of the treaty’s success, because the move carries perceived political utility: signalling a return to landmines creates an impression of enhanced security among citizens who are worried about Russian occupation, which might then translate to more political support, he explains. “You can say ‘They’re the “never sleeping soldiers,” so they will help us to protect our borders.’ It probably sounds good to the population that doesn’t know the limitations of these weapons.”
But for those in the demining sector, the withdrawals from the convention have been shocking. “It’s such a strong treaty. It’s been the gold standard for humanitarian disarmament,” says Gabelnick. “We thought that the taboo was so firm that no one ever would even dare think of using anti-personnel mines, much like chemical weapons or biological weapons.”
Against this fraught political backdrop, many have found Cowan’s remarks deeply unsettling. In several outlets, Cowan has argued that to remain relevant, the Mine Ban Treaty should evolve to allow the use of so-called ‘non-persistent mines’. These weapons are programmed to switch off or self-destruct after a period of time, supposedly to reduce civilian harm. “I think it’s really important, with any form of legislation, treaty, law, of which the Mine Ban Treaty is one very good example, to keep it relevant for the age in which we live, and not to hide behind nostalgia,” Cowan said in an Al Jazeera interview.
Gabelnick says that far from nostalgia, the continuing and increasing relevance of the treaty drives the motivation to protect the text as it stands. The convention’s relevance is greatest in times of conflict — precisely when it was meant to prevent countries from reaching for these weapons, she explains. “What is the purpose of the ban if you want to cast it aside when it actually might need to be implemented?”
This also relates to the non-persistent landmines that Cowan has highlighted. These weapons are not new: the technologies existed when the treaty was established, and because they are also victim-activated they are covered by the ban. Civilians can still be harmed when these mines self-destruct, and the mines frequently also fail to detonate, so fields where they’re deposited still require clean-up. Because the production of new landmines in most countries ceased decades ago, any self-destructing mines used now would also come out of aging stockpiles, which are nearing the end of their 30-year battery life and may be unreliable, Gabelnick says.
In practice, Cowan’s suggestion would require opening up the treaty for renegotiation, which is “a very, very bad idea” and not something that she thinks state parties would seriously consider — though some do fear that his words will find fertile ground at this tenuous time in the treaty’s history. “He certainly has influence within the sector due to the size and reputation of The HALO Trust as the world’s largest international mine action NGO. So his voice is listened to,” says one source who asked not to be named.
What has struck many about Cowan’s comments is the inherent paradox in a demining charity making the case for more mines, raising questions around his motives and HALO’s purpose. Particularly, Gabelnick notes Cowan’s assertion in one article that allowing Ukraine to defend itself with landmines will require a sustained commitment to mine clearance after the war — and that “The HALO Trust stands ready to do its part.”
“I think their peer organisations have been shocked and dismayed by that mindset, which says, ‘don't worry, we'll come and clean it up later’. That’s not the point. In the meantime, civilian lives are at risk,” Gabelnick says. This contradicts the purpose of demining NGOs to eradicate mines not just by removing them from the ground but by preventing their production and continued use, she says. That’s why Steen-Nilsen says that Norwegian People’s Aid believes the treaty must stand as it is, noting also that for the relatively small and close-knit humanitarian demining community, Cowan’s comments are “not very helpful…in achieving our goals and objectives.”
Iain Overton, executive director of the research charity Action On Armed Violence, goes further. He believes Cowan’s recent statements point to a shift away from demining and prevention and towards post-conflict reconstruction.
When asked to comment, HALO declined to respond. They did highlight occasions where Cowan has advocated for new countries to join the treaty, indicating his support for the agreement. While it’s hard to know, without speaking to him, what motivated his comments, an anonymous person in mine action known to Cowan says Cowan believes that allowing certain landmines under the Mine Ban Treaty is a compromise that will convince states to remain in the agreement. “But this approach is fundamentally flawed, as it undermines the very principles the treaty was built on,” they say — and that raises the question of whether a mine ban treaty that unbans certain destructive weapons would be fit for purpose in a warring world.
Whatever Cowan’s motivation or wider impact might be, his comments are one factor in a larger, shifting, political landscape. “I think [Cowan is] speaking in the same loosening of the rules-based order, which is fundamentally underpinning the [Mine Ban Treaty], at the same time that there’s been this nervousness about Russian expansionism,” Overton says. “This certainly is underpinned by a defence logic that more weapons will protect us all.”
In June, twenty-one ‘eminent persons’ including former government ministers, and a Nobel Peace Laureate, signed a joint appeal in support of the Mine Ban Treaty and the Convention on Cluster Munitions, highlighting the slippery slope the world could head down if we compromise on these treaties: “If they are eroded what other rules of war will be next? Perhaps the global bans on chemical or biological weapons? Or the Geneva Convention’s protections for prisoners of war?”
Like chemical weapons, anti-personnel mines have been consigned to history in most countries, thanks to robust disarmament and international law, says Lucy Pinches, project manager at Mine Action Review, an independent research project. But these treaties still need our protection: “What’s at stake is the unravelling of something that has been incredibly successful for the protection of civilians,” Pinches says.


