War reshapes nations, redraws borders, and topples governments. But its most intimate and immutable scars are etched onto the faces of those who endure it. The human visage—so vulnerable, so expressive—becomes a battlefield of its own, bearing witness to the unrelenting weight of history.
From Abraham Lincoln’s hollowed cheeks to the sunken eyes of Dutch marines returning from Afghanistan, war’s imprint is unmistakable, if one only knows where to look. These faces, whether etched into historical portraits or captured in modern photography, serve as visceral reminders of conflict’s toll—a toll that transcends time, geography, and technology.
In an age of drone strikes and cyberwarfare, the nature of battle has changed, but its psychological and physiological toll remains profoundly personal—and visible. The face does not lie. The face remembers. It catalogs every sleepless night, every impossible decision, every whispered goodbye.
It carries the past, often against its will. From the gaunt visages of World War I soldiers to the trauma-etched expressions of Ukrainian civilians today, the human countenance becomes a living archive of conflict, a testament to the enduring power of human suffering and resilience.
source: www.blesk.cz
The Psychological and Physiological Impact of War
Facial transformation in times of war is not merely an artistic observation—it is a documented physiological and psychological phenomenon. Stress triggers a cascade of biological reactions, from increased cortisol production to changes in skin elasticity, accelerated aging, and alterations in muscle tension.
War does not just impact the mind; it manifests physically, reshaping expressions, deepening lines, and erasing the lightness once carried in a person’s features. The body, in its intricate complexity, becomes a canvas upon which the horrors of conflict are painted.
Soldiers and civilians alike experience this phenomenon. Consider the transformation of those who have lived under prolonged siege, such as the residents of Sarajevo during the Bosnian War or the children of Aleppo who have never known a day without the hum of approaching warplanes.
The body carries trauma long after the fighting stops, and nowhere is this more evident than in the human face. The constant state of alert, the relentless fear, and the deprivation of basic needs leave indelible marks.
Psychologists who study post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD) note that prolonged exposure to conflict alters facial expressions on a neurological level. Hypervigilance, a common symptom of PTSD, causes involuntary muscle contractions, tightening the jaw and deepening frown lines.
Over time, these patterns become ingrained, rendering the face a permanent reflection of past horrors. Studies at Harvard Medical School indicate that individuals who have experienced war-related trauma exhibit increased facial asymmetry, a physical manifestation of the brain’s stress response, demonstrating how deeply trauma alters the very architecture of the face.
Furthermore, the disruption of sleep patterns, a common side effect of war-related stress, leads to dark circles and a gaunt appearance, further emphasizing the physical toll.
Beyond the battlefield, even those who document war are not immune to its impact. War photographers, journalists, and humanitarian workers often return from conflict zones visibly aged, their faces marked by the pain they have witnessed.
Some, like the renowned photographer James Nachtwey, have spoken about the profound weight of capturing human suffering—how each image taken is, in some way, etched onto their own faces as well.
The act of witnessing trauma creates a secondary trauma, a burden that manifests in the physical lines and weariness of their features. The emotional strain of observing human suffering day in and day out leaves a profound mark, a testament to the empathy and humanity of those who bear witness.
Photographing the Ghosts of War: Claire Felicie’s Haunting Vision and Beyond
In 2009, Dutch photographer Claire Felicie set out to document what statistics could not—how modern combat changes a person, not just in spirit but in flesh. Her series, Here Are the Young Men, is a stark and unflinching record of innocence lost, following Dutch marines from the 13th Infantry Company before, during, and after their deployment tIn 2009, Dutch photographer Claire Felicie set out to document what statistics could not—how modern combat changes a person, not just in spirit but in flesh. Her series, Here Are the Young Men, is a stark and unflinching record of innocence lost, following Dutch marines from the 13th Infantry Company before, during, and after their deployment to Afghanistan.o Afghanistan.
Photographer: Claire Felicie
The result is a visceral study of transformation—one that unfolds in the subtlest but most devastating of ways. Felicie’s work stands as a landmark in war photography, transcending mere documentation to become a profound exploration of human vulnerability.
Felicie’s black-and-white triptychs tell a story too complex for words. In the first frame, a 19-year-old marine grins, his cheeks full, his eyes alight with the bravado of youth. In the second, taken mid-deployment, his features have sharpened, his skin drawn tighter over protruding cheekbones. His eyes, darting slightly, seem to track something unseen, something that lingers just outside the frame.
The final portrait, taken upon his return, shows a hollow stare, the gaze of someone who has witnessed roadside bombs and fallen comrades. “These boys left as soldiers,” Felicie told TIME. “They returned as ghosts of themselves.” This haunting observation underscores the profound psychological transformation experienced by those who serve in combat.
Her diptych series, Armored, juxtaposes these marines in full combat gear with images of the personal items they carried with them: a childhood teddy bear, a lover’s letter, a St. Christopher medal. The contrast is stark—hardened soldiers clinging to fragile, almost childlike tokens of their civilian lives. “These objects are their armor,” Felicie said. “Without them, the war would swallow them whole.” These intimate objects serve as a poignant reminder of the humanity that war seeks to extinguish.
Felicie’s work, which took three years to complete, required immense trust. She spent months embedded with the marines, attending training exercises and sharing meals to capture their unguarded moments. “I wanted to show the duality of their existence—the armor they wear and the fragility they hide,” she explained.
The project’s impact was immediate, sparking debates in the Netherlands about the psychological cost of military service. Beyond Felicie’s work, other photographers like Don McCullin and Sebastião Salgado have dedicated their careers to documenting the human cost of conflict, their images etching the pain of war into the collective consciousness.
Her color photographs, taken during nocturnal missions in Uruzgan, Afghanistan, are bathed in the eerie glow of night-vision optics. Shadows carve trenches under the soldiers’ eyes, tension stiffens their postures. “You see the weight of constant vigilance,” Felicie noted. “It’s a look that never fully fades.” This perpetual state of alertness leaves a lasting imprint, a physical manifestation of the psychological burden carried by soldiers.
The Weight of Command
If war leaves its mark on the infantryman, it carves it even deeper into those who lead. The burden of command—of sending young men and women into danger—ages leaders in ways both visible and visceral. The weight of responsibility, the constant decision-making under immense pressure, and the emotional toll of loss all contribute to the accelerated aging of leaders during times of conflict.
Abraham Lincoln, Winston Churchill, and Volodymyr Zelenskyy all serve as stark examples. Lincoln’s transformation over the Civil War years was so pronounced that friends barely recognized him by 1865. Churchill, once the embodiment of British resilience, visibly aged under the weight of World War II.
Today, Zelenskyy’s face mirrors his nation’s endurance, his features sharpened by sleepless nights and unrelenting responsibility. The lines etched into his face are a testament to the relentless pressure he faces, a visual representation of his unwavering commitment to his nation.
Civilians in the Crossfire
While soldiers and leaders dominate narratives of war, civilians endure its ravages in silence. The hollow stares of Syrian refugees, the deep lines on the faces of Yemeni mothers struggling to find food for their children, the haunted eyes of Rohingya survivors fleeing genocide—these are the faces of war that rarely make headlines but bear the deepest burdens. Their experiences are often overlooked, yet their suffering is profound.
Dr. Amani Ballour, a Syrian pediatrician featured in the documentary The Cave, describes treating infants with “old men’s faces—wrinkled from hunger, their eyes dulled by constant fear.”
Photographer Lynsey Addario’s work in Ukraine captures elderly women whose furrowed brows and clenched jaws mirror the determination of their president. “War strips away pretense,” Addario says. “In their faces, you see the raw truth of survival.” These faces serve as a powerful reminder of the human cost of conflict, the silent suffering that often goes unnoticed.
The Enduring Ledger of Loss
Technology evolves. Warfare shifts. But the human face endures as war’s most enduring ledger. A silent testament to what was lost—and what was survived. As we advance into an era of AI-driven warfare and virtual battlegrounds, let us not forget the faces. For in them, we find the unvarnished truth of war’s cost—a truth no algorithm can erase. The faces of war are a call to remembrance, a plea for peace, and a reminder of the enduring power of the human spirit.
Maria Zakharova and The Burden of War
Maria Zakharova, the official spokesperson for the Russian Ministry of Foreign Affairs, has long been the Kremlin’s formidable voice, a maestro of rhetorical bravado and calculated indignation. But as the war in Ukraine grinds on, the toll of this relentless performance has become ever more apparent, not merely in the content of her statements but in the very lines of her face.
She is likely under extreme stress, which causes premature aging, changes in facial expressions, and alterations in posture.
Alcohol, too, has a role to play. It can worsen skin quality, lead to facial swelling, and cause changes in skin tone. It is a common salve for those who must maintain an outward display of certainty while inwardly battling a gnawing disquiet. Alcohol also affects cognitive functions and emotional stability, which can alter facial expressions. For someone in Zakharova’s position—perpetually in the public eye, forever tasked with exuding an air of absolute conviction—such physiological betrayals are difficult to hide.
One need only compare photographs of her from years past to those of today to witness the transformation. In earlier images, she appears with a more open expression, firmer facial features, and a more relaxed mimic, which indicates self-confidence and emotional balance. Her posture is poised, her gaze direct—an envoy of the Kremlin’s unwavering narrative.
However, in recent photographs, tense facial features, reduced eye contact, fatigue in the eyes, and a rigid facial posture are noticeable. The corners of her mouth no longer curve upward with practiced ease, her once-steady gaze now betrays a flicker of strain. This could indicate prolonged stress, inner tension, or psychological exhaustion.
This effect is common in people subjected to long-term manipulation, high levels of responsibility, or conflicts, which may be the case for a public figure working in a political propaganda environment. It is the physical manifestation of carrying too many contradictions, of speaking in absolutes while privately, perhaps, entertaining the faintest doubts. The demands of performance, when so absolute, leave their mark. And so, as history marches on, it chisels its narrative not only in the archives but upon the very faces of those conscripted to defend it.
War in the 21st Century – What has Changed?
Violent conflicts have been a persistent force in the history of humanity. However, in the last decades war has changed its face to become significantly more complex.
Large-scale conflicts of the 20th century are gone, with modern warfare embodying new forms. Influenced by modern technologies, development of cyber warfare, as well as the control of space, the modern era has redefined what war is.
Historically, wars have been fought between nation-states. Today, terrorist organisations, mercenaries, and other non-state actors have significantly grown in relevancy, enjoying more autonomy and involvement. Terrorist organisations such as ISIS have been able to utilise their status as non-state organisations and their decentralised nature to wage terror not only through the middle east but through the entire world.
Their growth in relevancy cannot be highlighted enough as such as groups are able to wage war in an unconventional manner such as, guerilla warfare or suicide bombings. One of the main dangers which this brings is that war can be brought to anywhere in the world. Rather than fighting over territories and resources, non-state actors give higher importance to values and norms.
This has forced many governments and militaries around the world to rethink their strategies, forcing them to heavily invest in counter-terrorism operations and other precautions which mitigate the threat of such organisations.
Rise of Unconventional Warfare
Another key development in modern conflicts is the way in which warfare is conducted. Gone are one dimensional playing fields of historical conflicts. Wars are now fought in cyber space, space, and using autonomous weapons.
The war in Ukraine showcases perfectly how complex the battlefields of modern conflicts are, with satellites and espionage playing a key role in the ongoing war. Elon Musk’s Starlink was utilised by the Ukrainian military during the initial stages of the conflict, however, after a Ukrainian attack in Crimea, Musk decided to stop Starlink coverage over the country.
Similarly, drones and other unmanned vehicles have grown in relevance in modern conflicts. Militaries try to minimise the impact which war has on its own civilian population, which the use of drones allows. Hidden far away from the front lines, drone operators are able to wage war and damage their enemy without having to directly face them.
A development in modern conflict is the focus on civilian populations. Countries are more likely to target civilian population in order to place the opposing government under pressure. This has created an inhumane pattern. Russia has purposefully targeted civilian targets with the goal of increasing the pressure on the Ukrainian government. Hence, it may be said that a government’s goal has increasingly become to target civilian enemy targets as a way to increase pressure on the enemy government.
The Nature of war in the 21st century has fundamentally changed. Conflicts are no longer fought solely between nations-states using conventional weapons. Instead, they involve cyber warfare, private military groups, drones and even civilian populations as key players. As technology continues to advance, so too will the ways in which warfare is conducted, forcing nations to adapt to an ever-changing battlefield.
By Patrik Matousek
