Some wars end with ceasefires. And then some wars live on in the womb, in the DNA, in the tear ducts of children too young to understand what they’ve inherited— A Trauma!
When the Guns Go Silent, the Wounds Begin to Speak
War isn’t just about showing off weapons or power. It’s a chain of broken families, incomplete homes, cries that never stop, and torn hearts. It destroys homes, schools, hospitals, and even animal shelters. It doesn’t just take lives, it rewrites them. Long after bullets stop flying and ceasefires are declared, the damage continues in quieter, more insidious ways.
It goes into the bones, into the womb, into the invisible strands of DNA that link one generation to the next. Long after it settles, war continues to live in the bodies of survivors. A sudden noise that sends a child into panic. A mother rocks her restless baby, unsure whether the cries are from hunger or inherited fear. These are not just memories, they are biological imprints. Trauma rewires the nervous system, and science is only beginning to understand how deeply war reshapes the human body and mind.
Epigenetics: When Memory Becomes Molecule
In recent years, a growing body of research has revealed that trauma doesn’t stop at the mind; it alters the body on a molecular level. The science of epigenetics explores how environmental stressors, like war and displacement, can modify gene expression without changing the underlying DNA sequence. Think of it as the body underlining certain sentences in the genetic script, telling them to be louder or quieter based on what it’s lived through.
A study on Syrian refugee families (Science, 2021) found that trauma-induced changes in stress-regulation genes were present not only in survivors but in their children and even grandchildren. Holocaust survivors and their offspring show similar alterations, specifically in how their bodies manage cortisol, the stress hormone (Scientific American). In simple terms, a mother’s fear doesn’t just live in her memories. It lodges itself in her cells and can be passed down.
This pattern is tragically echoed in Gaza. Decades of conflict have subjected Gazan women to extreme hardship, from displacement and loss of family members to inadequate healthcare and ongoing violence. Pregnant women face immense stress, with many giving birth in bomb shelters or hospitals under siege.
Studies and reports from humanitarian organizations like UNICEF and WHO highlight that high rates of maternal stress and trauma in Gaza correlate with increased risks of premature births, low birth weights, and developmental challenges in newborns( Gaza Pregnant Women)
Moreover, emerging research suggests that chronic stress experienced by pregnant women in war zones like Gaza can induce epigenetic changes in their children, affecting how genes related to stress response and mental health are expressed. In this way, the trauma of war transcends individual experience, embedding itself in the biology of future generations.
For women in war, survival is only the beginning. Their bodies become living archives of violence and resilience, carrying the silent burden of conflict long after the fighting stops. The maternal body is both battlefield and sanctuary, bearing the complex imprint of war’s legacy.
Women— the First and Last Witnesses of Trauma
Women do not merely survive war, they absorb it. They are raped, starved, displaced. They bury children. They raise others alone. They stitch together the ruins. And even when the war ends, their bodies keep the score.
A study of women who survived wartime sexual violence in Kosovo showed that their children born in times of so-called peace had higher cortisol levels and altered epigenetic markers tied to anxiety and depression, ResearchGate. In these cases, the war field is not just geopolitical. It is maternal. The womb carries more than life. It carries a legacy.
Children of War: Ghosts in New Skins!
Children who are conceived or born in war often display symptoms that they cannot explain chronic sadness, outbursts, or disconnection from their peers. Some carry anxiety as if it were a birthmark. In a traumatic World War II study, daughters of women evacuated during air raids were significantly more likely to be hospitalized for psychiatric illness later in life (Meredith Daly, November 29, 2017).
These daughters never heard of a bomb, but their mothers did. And those screams, those clenched fists, seem to have whispered into the womb. We call it “inexplicable” sadness, but the explanation is written in methyl groups and cortisol pathways (Scispace)
Can Love Undo the Genetic Echo?
If trauma can be inherited, can healing be too?
The hopeful answer: yes. Recent studies suggest that psychosocial interventions can reverse or dampen some trauma-related epigenetic marks. In Kosovo, a family-based mental health program showed that children of traumatized mothers who received therapy exhibited improved epigenetic profiles (dignity).
Another approach, Narrative Exposure Therapy, in which survivors chronologically reconstruct their life stories in a therapeutic setting, has been found to ease PTSD and reduce trauma-linked gene changes (Narrative Exposure Therapy (NET).In other words, just as trauma can write itself into our biology, love, safety, and storytelling might help rewrite that script.
What Will We Pass On?
This is not just a story about refugees in Syria or mothers in Kosovo. It’s about what the body remembers, what the mind cannot forget, and what generations unknowingly carry. Women and children are often painted as footnotes in the grand narratives of war. But they are the main text of the bodies where the war continues to unfold, even in peacetime.
This legacy, etched in cells and scars, poses a question for us all:
What will we pass on?
Let it be true. Let it be healing. Let it be the belief that even a war-marked body can one day learn peace.
More from the Author: It Begins with a Heartbeat: The Quiet Power of Science and Health in Healing a Nation from Within
Sadaf Sarfraz, currently a lecturer, holds an MPhil in Molecular Pathology and Genomics, complemented by a BSc in Medical Laboratory Technology. Contributing as a healthcare writer at Scientia-Pakistan, she passionately engages in calligraphy and art.
