Global children's charity withholds Syria abuse report amid internal crisis

Over 140 children were forcibly separated from imprisoned parents for years; sisters Layla and Layan did not recognize their mother after three-year separation.
No-one at SOS talked to us or gave us anything.
A Syrian mother separated from her daughters for three years speaks about the charity's silence and inaction.
Mark

Why did SOS commission this investigation if they weren't prepared to release it?

Mimi

They likely felt pressure to appear accountable after the BBC's reporting in 2025 exposed what happened. But once the lawyers finished and the findings pointed toward institutional responsibility at the Vienna headquarters, the board seems to have decided transparency was more costly than silence.

Luke

We should be careful here. We know Parisi said the report was "compromised," but we don't have his full reasoning. The board says they took independent legal advice. That could mean anything—legal liability concerns, ongoing court cases, protection of witnesses. We just don't know.

Mark

But there's a compensation fund that was set up and then nothing was distributed. That's not ambiguous, is it?

Mimi

No, that's concrete. The German directors created it before they were fired. But the current board is saying distribution depends on legal coordination. It's a delay tactic dressed up as procedure.

Luke

It might be. Or there might be legitimate complications—identifying victims, verifying claims, navigating Syrian legal systems. The leaked documents show the fund exists, but they don't show us why money hasn't moved. That's worth noting.

Mark

So what happens now? Does the organization survive?

Mimi

It's hard to see how. Six major national associations have already left. The German association tried to leave and was stopped by the board, but the directors are fighting in court. If they win, that's another departure. The federation is hemorrhaging legitimacy and funding.

Luke

Though we should note: the board is still fighting to keep the organization together. They're not surrendering. Whether that's principled or just self-preservation is something readers will judge for themselves.

Mark

And the families?

Mimi

Still waiting. Still hurt. Still without answers or compensation.

  • Over 140 Syrian children were handed to SOS facilities by security forces and deliberately hidden, becoming instruments of coercion against their imprisoned parents — a calculated cruelty the charity did not resist.
  • Sisters Layla and Layan were separated from their mother for three years; when they were finally reunited, the younger child no longer recognized her — a wound that followed the family into exile in the United States.
  • A completed investigation found SOS bore genuine responsibility, but board chair Domenico Parisi declared it 'compromised' and blocked its release, accusing unnamed staff of trying to manipulate its conclusions.
  • National associations across the UK, Norway, Switzerland, Sweden, France, and the Netherlands have voted to leave the federation in protest, and a compensation fund established before a leadership purge has yet to distribute a single payment.
  • The organization now faces potential dissolution — its global network of child welfare services threatened not by scandal alone, but by its own sustained refusal to acknowledge, publish, or make amends for what it allowed to happen.

In the aftermath of Syria's civil war, SOS Children's Villages International finds itself at a moral crossroads of its own making — having commissioned an investigation into its role in separating over 140 children from imprisoned parents, only to suppress its findings and withhold promised compensation to the families it harmed. The report, completed by a Norwegian law firm, concluded that the charity was not coerced into accepting children delivered by Assad's security forces, and that ultimate responsibility rested with its Vienna headquarters. What began as an institution built to shelter the world's most vulnerable children now faces the possibility of its own dissolution, undone not by external forces but by its refusal to bear witness to itself.

SOS Children's Villages International, a charity operating across more than 130 countries, has chosen to suppress an investigation it commissioned into its own conduct during Syria's civil war — a decision that has set off a crisis threatening the organization's very existence.

During Bashar al-Assad's rule, Syrian security forces removed more than 140 children from detained parents and placed them in SOS facilities, instructing the charity to conceal their identities. The children were used as leverage — to pressure families and facilitate prisoner exchanges. Among them were sisters Layla and Layan Ghbeis, aged eight and four when taken from their mother Omama in 2015. After three years, a prisoner exchange brought them back together, but Layan no longer recognized her mother. The family eventually reached the United States as refugees, carrying the fracture of those lost years with them. 'It had a huge impact on every member of our family,' Omama told the BBC.

Following Assad's fall in December 2024, SOS commissioned Norwegian law firm Wiersholm to investigate responsibility for these decisions. The report was completed in December 2025, and lawyers initially indicated an anonymized version would be made public. But by May 2026, board chair Domenico Parisi declared the investigation 'compromised' and blocked its release entirely — internally and externally — accusing unnamed staff of attempting to manipulate its portrayal of the organization. A draft reviewed by the BBC found that SOS was not forced to accept the children, and that the charity's Vienna headquarters bore ultimate responsibility.

The suppression has fractured the federation. National associations in the UK, Norway, Switzerland, Sweden, France, and the Netherlands have voted to leave and operate independently. The directors of SOS Children's Villages Worldwide, the largest single contributor, also voted to depart — but were dismissed by the German supervisory board in February. Those directors are now challenging their removal in court. Before being ousted, they had established a compensation fund for Syrian victims; according to leaked documents, no money has been paid out.

Omama Ghbeis said she had hoped for an apology and some form of support. 'No-one at SOS talked to us or gave us anything,' she said. The charity says it is willing to help but cites unspecified legal and practical conditions. What was built as a global institution for child welfare now risks collapse — not from the weight of what it did, but from its refusal to fully face it.

SOS Children's Villages International, a global charity operating in more than 130 countries, has decided not to release an investigation it commissioned into its own role in separating Syrian children from their imprisoned parents during the country's civil war. The decision, made public through internal communications obtained by the BBC, marks a turning point in what was already a fractured reckoning with the organization's past.

During Bashar al-Assad's rule, Syrian security forces removed more than 140 children from parents held in detention and delivered them to SOS facilities across the country. The regime instructed the charity to conceal the children's identities and locations. The purpose was calculated: the children became leverage, used to pressure families and to negotiate prisoner exchanges. Sisters Layla and Layan Ghbeis were eight and four years old when they were taken from their mother, Omama, in 2015. Three years passed before a prisoner exchange brought them back together—and when they saw their mother again, Layan did not recognize her. The family eventually fled to the United States as refugees, but the rupture left by those years of separation has never healed. "Whether we're together or on our own, we're thinking about what happened to us," Omama told the BBC. "It had a huge impact on every member of our family."

After Assad's fall in December 2024, SOS acknowledged what had occurred and commissioned the Norwegian law firm Wiersholm to investigate who bore responsibility for the decisions that allowed this to happen. The report was completed in December 2025. In January 2026, the lawyers indicated to the BBC that an anonymised version would likely be released to the public. But in May, board chair Domenico Parisi sent an email to staff stating that the investigation had been "compromised" and would not be shared with anyone—not internally, not publicly. In a recorded internal meeting obtained by journalists, Parisi accused unnamed staff members of attempting to "manipulate" the report to portray the organization unfavorably. A draft version of the report that the BBC reviewed concluded that SOS was not forced to accept the children from security services, and that the charity's international headquarters in Vienna held ultimate responsibility for the decisions made at its Syrian facilities.

The refusal to publish the findings has fractured the organization from within. National associations in the UK, Norway, Switzerland, Sweden, France, and the Netherlands—all significant financial contributors—have voted to leave the federation and operate as independent charities. In December, the directors of SOS Children's Villages Worldwide, the largest single contributor to the international organization, voted to depart as well. But the German supervisory board, acting as trustee, overruled them and dismissed all three directors in February. The directors dispute the dismissals and are challenging them in German courts. Before their removal, they had established a fund designated for voluntary compensation to Syrian victims, but according to leaked documents reviewed by the BBC, no money has been distributed.

The families affected by the separations remain waiting. SOS has expressed "willingness" to provide support, but says assistance depends on "legal and practical conditions that require co-ordination with relevant parties." Omama Ghbeis, who spent three years separated from her daughters, said she had hoped for an apology and compensation from the organization. "No-one at SOS talked to us or gave us anything," she said. The charity's silence and the withholding of both the investigation and promised funds have left the organization's future uncertain. What was built as a global network of child welfare services now faces the possibility of dissolution, undone by its own refusal to reckon fully with what it allowed to happen.

Whether we're together or on our own, we're thinking about what happened to us. It had a huge impact on every member of our family.
— Omama Ghbeis, Syrian mother separated from her daughters for three years
I had hoped SOS would apologise and offer support, to compensate me for the harm they caused by separating me from my family. No-one at SOS talked to us or gave us anything.
— Omama Ghbeis
Vuoi la storia completa? Leggi l'originale su BBC News ↗
Contattaci Domande frequenti