How one international Ph.D. student is bridging the gap between practice and research

Author: Jessie Carson

Man in dark vest and jeans looks right at a light-colored building with a broken upper window and ground debris.

There are a lot of ways to make a difference. In times of crisis, some people take an on-the-ground approach, working to directly provide aid to those in need. Others assume a bigger picture perspective to solve problems, analyzing why they occurred in the first place and what can be done to remedy them in the future.

Man in dark vest and jeans looks right at a light-colored building with a broken upper window and ground debris.

Eskandar Ataallah wanted to do both.

When conflict broke out in his homeland, Syria, rather than flee, he chose to stay and be a helping hand. He spent over nine years working in the humanitarian field, organizing and providing relief to the most vulnerable families and individuals. But he also felt a desire to tie his field work to an academic background. He wanted to study peace—and learn how it could be implemented in his home country.

Eskandar first came to Notre Dame in 2022 for the Keough School’s Master of Global Affairs (MGA) program. Now, he is part of the first cohort of the newly launched international peace studies doctoral program at the Kroc Institute for International Peace Studies.

For Eskandar, it’s about closing the gap between experience and research. The practitioner and the academic bring different, necessary knowledge and skills to the table. And while the two can function as separate roles, Eskandar sees great value in uniting them. “It’s a huge gap,” he says, remarking on what it was like to be in a classroom where conflict and war was being discussed in theory—and knowing what it was like firsthand. Even after starting in the MGA program, Eskandar was helping to coordinate relief efforts in Syria following the 2023 earthquakes—a feat he was able to do from South Bend due to the networks he’d created while doing humanitarian work.

“It is challenging because the lived experience is very different from the theoretical frameworks, which is understandable. And there is something that you cannot capture through academia and through research, which is how we experienced the conflict.”

A man with a dark beard, black glasses, and a blue hoodie laughs heartily while looking at a whiteboard.

Fortunately, he’s found the classroom to be an excellent environment in which to bridge that gap through thoughtful dialogue and discussion, both with his fellow students and the professors opening up the space. What’s more, he’s been able to widen the context of these discussions by taking courses across a range of departments. So far in his first year, he’s taken classes in computer science, sociology, economics, and of course, peace studies. “The interdisciplinary approach is something that you really can't find anywhere, which is the strength of the program here,” he says.

Eskandar's initial research focus was on the intersection of artificial intelligence and peacebuilding—exploring how AI can be harnessed to prevent conflict, strengthen social cohesion, and support inclusive peace processes—but he’s since refined it for a very important reason: he needs something practical. “Whenever we came up with our results, the dynamics changed and our results would be irrelevant. Since I'm a practitioner, it is very critical to me to do something that we can use.” That’s why he’s shifted his approach to include an economic focus, using his bachelor’s degree in economics, and narrowing the scope of his studies to examine the consequences of the international economic sanctions on the people of Syria and the political landscape as a whole.

While he’s still at the start of his Ph.D. journey, Eskandar is already taking advantage of all the opportunities in front of him—from applying to be an affiliate with the Kellogg Institute to securing a fellowship with the Salam Institute for Peace and Justice, a non-profit organization focused on social cohesion in Syria. While these additional roles keep him busy, Eskandar sees them as opportunities to learn more—and stresses that the support of his department and the International Student & Scholar Affairs (ISSA) team were invaluable in his pursuit of these opportunities.

He also credits the ISSA team for providing continuous support in a multitude of ways, from helping with the logistical side of traveling to organizing grocery store trips for international students. Going to Walmart is an easy task for someone who’s lived here for years and has a car, but for international students like Eskandar, it makes a huge difference. “They really considered what kind of challenges we might have, and they did something about it.”

Smiling man with a dark beard in a brown checkered shirt making a peace sign, with the ocean and blue sky behind him.

But the significance of those simple resources, like trips to the store and funds for winter clothing, goes beyond the acts themselves. “The thing is, they're not just doing it for us. They made us think about other people, and how we will pay it forward—which is what's happening for me now.” After being here for a number of years, Eskandar now has a car himself, and because he knows what it’s like to rely on public transportation or Uber, he often offers rides to his friends when they need one. “They made us be better people by just doing small things for us,” he says.

Ultimately, that’s where his academic pursuit is leading him—to the best version of himself. He started by gaining hard-earned skills through years of hands-on work. Now he’s developing the theory behind that important work, and ideally, solutions for sowing peace. But for Eskandar, the mission guiding his research is innate, not learned: “People in need? Help them. It’s as simple as this.”