From selective repatriations in 2022 to outright refusal in 2026, Australia’s approach to ISIS returnees reveals a pattern of reaction without institutional consolidation.
The debate over the fate of Australian women and children in Syrian camps has resurfaced with renewed intensity. The Albanese government has ruled out assisting the return of 34 Australians reportedly attempting to leave al-Roj camp in northern Syria. Meanwhile, opposition figures have signalled that new legislative measures may be required should they return to office. Once again, Islamic State (ISIS) returnees are framed as an urgent national security issue. However, despite the renewed rhetoric, little has fundamentally changed in Australia’s approach over the past several years. The current moment is less a turning point than another episode in a pattern characterised by reaction, deferral, and strategic ambiguity.
Since the territorial defeat of ISIS in 2019, Australian governments have oscillated between resistance, selective engagement, and cautious facilitation. For several years, repatriation was framed as an unacceptable security risk. Citizenship revocation became a prominent mechanism to prevent return, particularly for dual nationals. When legal constraints and operational realities narrowed this option, the Albanese government authorised the repatriation of four women and thirteen children in October 2022. However, this decision did not produce a standing doctrine or a clearly articulated framework. While, at the time, it was seen as evidence of potential institutional reform towards repatriation, it turned out to be an exceptional measure implemented only once.
The current refusal to assist further repatriation should be understood within this longer trajectory. It does not represent a coherent shift in policy architecture. Nor does it represent a proper policy framework. Rather, it reflects the continued reliance on executive discretion in the absence of institutionalised guidance. Decisions are made case by case, shaped by political incentives and public mood rather than embedded in a transparent system of criteria and procedure. Saying ‘no’ to repatriation is simply not enough when people have previously found a way to return on their own, which makes this a standing possibility for future cases.
The absence of a standing framework means that repatriation debates repeatedly re-emerge whenever circumstances change. When camps destabilise, when detainees attempt to leave, or when media attention intensifies, governments are forced to respond. Each response is framed as situational and exceptional. Each decision appears abrupt. No durable governance structure absorbs the shock.
The 2022 repatriation illustrates this dynamic. It demonstrated that Australian agencies could coordinate across intelligence, law enforcement, and social services to manage return. Individuals were investigated, monitored, and in some cases prosecuted. Yet the operation did not lead to codified protocols or published criteria governing future cases. Nor did it generate parliamentary debate about long-term doctrine. The system reverted to ambiguity once the immediate operational task was complete.
Similarly, when two Australian women and their children returned via third countries in 2025 after escaping Syrian detention camps, the episode did not trigger institutional reform. It underscored the possibility of unmanaged return, yet no permanent framework followed. Instead, public information about legal processes and monitoring arrangements remained limited, reinforcing the impression of reactive rather than systematic governance.
Opposition calls for new legislation to criminalise the provision of assistance to ISIS-linked Australians attempting to return should be assessed against this background. Australia already possesses extensive counterterrorism authorities. Terrorism offences, control orders, surveillance powers, and monitoring mechanisms are set out in the Criminal Code and related legislation. The recurring impulse to introduce additional laws risks obscuring the underlying issue: the problem is not a lack of legal power but a lack of institutional coherence.
There are strong political incentives for maintaining this ambiguity. ISIS returnees are highly salient symbols in domestic political discourse. Governments face electoral risks if perceived as lenient; oppositions gain traction by advocating firmness. In such an environment, strategic vagueness can be attractive. It allows flexibility. It defers hard choices. It reduces immediate exposure.
But strategic ambiguity is not a stable long-term security strategy. Federal agencies must coordinate with state authorities, child protection systems, community organisations, and intelligence services. Without an institutionalised framework, coordination remains contingent on ad hoc arrangements rather than routinised processes.
Moreover, deferral does not eliminate the policy problem. Leaving Australian citizens in unstable detention environments does not remove the possibility of return. It shifts risk beyond Australia’s jurisdiction while reducing the state’s capacity to shape timing and conditions. The Albanese government has acknowledged that individuals who return independently will be subject to investigation and, where appropriate, legal consequences. This implicitly recognises that return cannot be fully prevented. Yet refusal to facilitate repatriation constrains the state’s ability to manage it on deliberate terms.
What is striking is how little institutional learning has occurred since 2022. The underlying challenge – how to manage the return of citizens associated with a collapsed terrorist organisation – remains unresolved. In Australia, the ISIS returnee policy continues to be shaped by volatility rather than institutional consolidation. The rhetoric changes. The actors change. The circumstances shift. Yet the architecture remains unsettled.
The most recent repatriation attempt in February 2026 vividly illustrates this fragmentation. A convoy of 34 Australian women and children linked to ISIS fighters left the al-Roj camp with the intention of travelling to Damascus and onward to Australia, only to be warned by Syrian government forces that they would be attacked if they continued and forced back to the camp. Coordination breakdowns among Canberra, the Kurdish authorities, and Damascus lay at the heart of the collapse, underscoring the absence of internationally aligned protocols and the dangers inherent in unmanaged return. The group, which included 23 children, has now been returned to deteriorating and unstable conditions in the camp – a situation far from a coherent security policy.
The current debate is therefore less about whether particular individuals should be assisted to return, and more about whether Australia intends to institutionalise its approach to such cases. Without a transparent framework, future governments will face the same dilemmas under similar conditions. The cycle of reaction and deferral will repeat.
Until then, what appears to be decisive action risks amounting to little more than continued episodic reaction.
Dr Se Youn Park is Director of Research at Women in International Security – Australia Inc (WIIS-A) and holds a PhD in International Relations from the University of Queensland. Her work investigates how gendered institutions and digital infrastructures produce and perpetuate insecurity across different domains of security policy and practice, with regional expertise in Australia, South Korea, and the UK.
This blog is part of a joint series between AIIA and WIIS-A, which aims to elevate the work of female and gender-diverse individuals in the field of international affairs.
This article is published under a Creative Commons License and may be republished with attribution.
