The 2019 defeat of the Islamic State of Iraq and Syria (ISIS) has left tens of thousands of people, many foreign born, in detention camps with little prospect for release. The potential for radicalisation and long-term security risks grows as governments delay repatriation.

At their peak, ISIS controlled approximately 88,000 square kilometres of land and attracted roughly 40,000 fighters from over 80 countries to Iraq and Syria. ISIS established a government structure and undertook public and social programs within communities under their control. By March 2019, after more than five years of fighting between ISIS jihadists and an international coalition that included the United States, Russia and their numerous allies, ISIS ceded the last of their territory to US-backed forces and were territorially defeated.

In the wake of this defeat, two major detention camps, al-Roj and al-Hawl, as well as several smaller camps, were set up by the US-backed Syrian Defence Force (SDF), who also administer the camps. These camps hold the women and children who have been left homeless and, in some cases, stateless, by the defeat of ISIS and their affiliation with the jihadists. It is difficult to accurately determine the camp’s populations. However, Human Rights Watch puts the total figure at around 63,000. Approximately 12,000 of these detainees originate from countries outside of Iraq and Syria, and now, many of them wish to return home. With a few exceptions, governments are either refusing to repatriate anyone at all, or are moving at an incredibly slow pace, citing security concerns. The lack of systemic and efficient repatriation is, however, creating a far greater security risk than that posed by allowing these women and children to return home.

A clear example of the gravity of this risk can be seen in Camp Bucca, a detention camp set up during the Iraq War.  Both combatant and non-combatant Iraqis were detained in Camp Bucca. Of the 25 men identified by the Iraqi government as the most important leaders of ISIS, 17 spent time in Camp Bucca. The ability to gather on a daily basis for extended periods of time while confined at Camp Bucca allowed then-Al-Qaeda members and sympathisers to interact in a way that would have been impossible outside the camp walls. Consequently, Camp Bucca not only facilitated the long, well-attended planning sessions for what would become ISIS, but it was also a fertile recruiting ground. As senior ISIS official Abu Ahmed put it, “if there was no American prison in Iraq, there would be no IS now.”

However, Camp Bucca was not just the conference room for a re-emerging al-Qaeda, which later evolved into ISIS. It was also a strong symbol of oppression and foreign occupancy for the Iraqi people, who saw their fathers, husbands, and sons held for years without charge and without an opportunity to defend themselves in court. This lack of legal process around detainment is a practise that has been carried forward to al-Roj and al-Hawl and is likely to provoke the same reaction from the community.

ISIS is now regaining power within al Roj and al-Hawl. An internal European Union document has described al-Hawl as a “mini-caliphate.” The camps are patrolled by hard-line believers who enforce their doctrine with violence and fear. One particularly horrifying example is that of a teenage girl strangled to death by her grandmother after she attempted to stop wearing her niqab head covering. And conditions are harsh. Innocent children are suffering from a multitude of diseases, including malnutrition and dysentery, but are unable to access adequate healthcare. There is an ever-present threat of sexual assault. Access to food and medical supplies is limited. Hundreds have died and dozens of COVID-19 cases have been reported. There is a real and growing threat that such dangerous and desolate conditions will breed hatred and resentment towards those who have abandoned these detainees.

Furthermore, these camps, although intended to function like a prison, are not airtight. Those held inside are finding new ways to escape as time drags on. Some simply wait for dark and slip through the fences. Some are using illegal smuggling networks and getting themselves home, forcing their governments to repatriate them. Others still are marrying their way out of the camps, using money gifted from their online husbands to bribe guards.

The threat these women and children pose is greater if they are allowed to escape than if they are repatriated. Firstly, escapees nearly always disappear off the radar, and thus are much harder to monitor for suspicious or dangerous behaviour. Secondly, these women and children have either been a part of or associated with the ISIS caliphate. They have been exposed to years of violence, abuse, and indoctrination, or they have been falsely accused of and imprisoned for years, because of involvement in or association with ISIS. Either way, the frustration and resentment produced by their treatment, coupled with untreated trauma and indoctrination, creates the perfect storm for radicalisation and a further cementation of the belief in the evils of the West. Previously, ISIS started the indoctrination of children at six years old and the military training of boys at nine. At the present, the majority of the children held in these camps are younger than six. If ISIS are to stick to the same recruitment strategy as before, there is limited time for these children to be repatriated and the threat they potentially pose to be significantly mitigated.

Governments that are considering or engaging in repatriation must not forget the boys and young men also being detained in separate prisons. At present, up to 700 boys have been separated from their families and are held in a separate detention centre. Roughly 100 are from nations other than Syria and Iraq, and there are plans to build an additional 500-bed “rehab” centre to house more. And just like with Camp Bucca, many of these boys were taken from their families, either from within the camps or elsewhere, because of their age, their involvement in acts of violence, or their ISIS-aligned ideology.

The threat of radicalisation of those left to languish in camps is real, and there is no denying that there is a threat in bringing these detainees home.  The concern that some nations lack infrastructure to deal with the needs of those returning home is valid, but the alternative is leaving thousands of vulnerable people in detention centres indefinitely. The lived experiences of the detainees will serve to reinforce the lessons of hate and violence they have been taught by ISIS. It is essential, therefore, that governments heed the near unanimous international advice, and begin comprehensive repatriation immediately.

Cassandra Goodie is a first year graduate of Monash University. She has a keen interest in international relations, conflict studies and the Middle East. She is currently an assistant commissioning editor at the AIIA National Office. 

This article is published under a Creative Commons License and may be republished with attribution.