Standing among the stumps of a once-lush pine forest in north-western Ukraine, Oleksandre reflects on the damage caused by illegal amber extraction. What was once a rich natural landscape is now a barren marsh, marked by scattered bushes and the scars of human activity. Oleksandre used to be a clandestine prospector, but he changed his ways after the Ukrainian government launched a campaign against illegal amber exploitation in 2019. Now, he works for a mining company with a stable salary. However, the Russian invasion of Ukraine in 2022 has complicated efforts to regulate the amber industry, which has long been plagued by smuggling and illegal activity. Martial law has suspended inspections and environmental audits, allowing illegal extraction to continue largely unchecked. Oleg Boguelsky, co-owner of the Ukrainian group Amber Galbine, estimates that 60 to 70% of Ukrainian amber is now of illegal origin. Amber is a golden stone formed from fossilized resin and became highly sought after in China during the 2000s, as the country’s economy rapidly expanded. The demand for amber led to a dramatic rise in its value, increasing by nearly 1,000% between 2010 and 2015. This surge created a rush in Ukraine, where the subsoil is rich in the precious material. Oleksandre recalls joining the rush "like everyone else, illegally," as state control was minimal. The unregulated extraction attracted a workforce that was often poor and unskilled. "People came almost from all over the country," he says. Describing the process of illegal extraction, Oleksandre explains that high-pressure water is injected into the ground to bring amber to the surface, where it is collected with wide scoops. "Nobody paid attention to the plants or trees. Everything in their way was simply cut down," he says in a low voice. Ivan Chvyryd, a representative at the government agency for forest protection in Volodymyrets, in the Rivne region, says the amber rush left behind "thousands of hectares" of destroyed forest and a heavy social cost. He recalls visiting an illegal extraction site where he found "2,000 people digging," of all ages. "When a fifth grader does not go to school and instead digs for amber... is that not shameful?" he asks. In 2019, Ukraine adopted a law to regulate amber extraction, requiring a cadastre, less intrusive excavation methods, and reforestation. The clandestine miners, however, face heavy sanctions, including imprisonment. Raw amber has gradually entered official channels, with exports increasing from 0.61 tonne in 2020 to 88.83 tonnes in 2025, according to data from the Ukrainian customs service obtained by AFP. "Little by little, everything calmed down," recalls Oleksandre. He eventually repented, saying, "It was necessary to take care of the family." Despite these efforts, mafia-like practices persist in the industry. Oleg Boguelsky claims that some companies have returned to such methods. "There are many dishonest operators, a very, very large proportion of exploiters who do not respect the rules," he says. Since 2024, 369 investigations have been opened in Ukraine into the illegal extraction and possession of amber, according to Borys Indytchenko, head of the specialized prosecutors' office for the environment. "Companies install fences and checkpoints and sometimes hire security agents who may be part of an organized criminal group," he explains. A clandestine network was notably dismantled in June 2026, led by a local official accused of causing about 7 million euros in environmental damage. The war has also favored the return of private security companies. According to a report by Intelligence Online, some of them are equipping themselves with unregistered war weapons recovered from the front line. Mykola Kotniouk, president of the Ukrainian Association of Amber Companies, admits that "some underground operators abuse their position and, perhaps, some extract illegally." Today, the industry calls on the state to strengthen controls, estimating that fraudsters benefit from a competitive advantage. "Of course, people would have wanted to continue illegally, because they were making a lot of money," whispers Oleksandre. He tries to make the industry more attractive by offering training to young miners and financing their university studies, then hiring them. Unfortunately, qualified labor is rare because, with the war, "many people have gone abroad," he says.