Tag Archive for: violent extremism

Australia’s new CT and CVE strategy: light on policy and specifics

Australia has a new counterterrorism (CT) and counter-violent extremism (CVE) strategy—but it’s light on counterterrorism and lacking in strategy. While it introduces two new CVE measures, it presents itself more as a communicative document than a real strategy or action plan.

Titled ‘A Safer Australia – Australia’s Counter-terrorism and Violent Extremism Strategy 2025’, it was quietly released on 17 January, two years after then home affairs minister Clare O’Neil vowed to revise and update the strategy of 2022. Yet there is little to show for two years of development.

As of August 2024, Australia’s national terrorist threat level is ‘probable’—higher than when the previous strategy was released. The document also arrives amid a spate of antisemitic incidents in Sydney and Melbourne and increasing political pressure on government to respond. Clearly, the title of ‘A Safer Australia’ does not reflect our current security climate.

The strategy will improve Australia’s early-intervention capacity. But it is a CVE strategy, not a CT strategy: it is focused on community intervention programs, not Australia’s capability to pre-empt or respond to terrorist acts. The document does not provide new CT policy, resourcing or strategic direction. A comprehensive strategy should address both.

Even on CVE it is light on policy ideas and specifics, supporting criticisms that the department has lacked in-house capability to lead on CT policy since the Australian Federal Police and the Australian Security Intelligence Organisation were moved outside it.

The strategy begins with a sober assessment of the threat landscape and focuses on countering rising youth violent extremism, as well as highlighting changes to the character of terrorism. But these challenges—including hybrid ideologies and youth radicalisation—were discussed in 2024 by ASIO Director-General Mike Burgess in greater and more engaging detail.

It aims to prevent CVE at a community level through two main initiatives. Firstly, the government intends to nearly double funding to state and territory partners for CVE intervention programs, which they lead, and commit to ongoing funding. Secondly, it will establish a national version of the successful NSW Step Together program, a confidential, non-police community support service that parents can contact if they are concerned their child is radicalising. The government will also better include young people in developing CVE policy.

These will not address the drivers of youth extremism, including real and perceived grievances. The strategy also highlights the challenge of online spaces and radicalisation but commits only to closer collaboration with technology companies and partners. It overlooks structural factors contributing to the rise of violent extremism. More funding and a federal helpline are positives but are small offerings after two years of delay.

Instead of policy innovation, the strategy repeatedly refers to existing measures and ‘improving partnerships and collaboration’ with various stakeholders. It rarely provides examples of how it will do this.

For instance, when announcing the strategy, Home Affairs Minister Tony Burke highlighted an ongoing commitment to engaging Southeast Asian partners—an important measure that already exists. The strategy introduces no mechanisms for engagement or deepening relationships. Instead, it references the 2022 ASEAN-Australia Counter-Terrorism Dialogue.

For CT, the strategy is seemingly more focused on communications than action, saying in its executive summary: ‘The Strategy is for all Australians to develop a greater understanding of the evolving threat and what Australian governments are doing to respond to those challenges.’

Transparency and communication with the public are important, but they are not a strategy. Furthermore, the government is hardly promoting transparency by releasing the document with little notice on a Friday in mid-January.

Instead of foreshadowing new initiatives, the document commits to improved bureaucracy and internal functions, recommending improved internal assessment pathways and better consultation. Its action plan calls for yet another government review into existing frameworks. After a considerable wait for this strategy, it calls for more waiting.

Instead of new initiatives, it explicitly defends the status quo, saying ‘our current system for preventing and responding to terrorism is mature and works effectively.’

Certainly, Australia’s national security professionals at the coalface have an excellent record. But such confidence in the system contradicts reporting from September 2024 of a breakdown in collaboration between the federal government and the states and territories over the National Counter-Terrorism Plan—describing the situation as an unprecedented ‘clusterf—k’.

A key issue highlighted was the Home Affairs limited capacity to deliver counterterrorism policy, with migration absorbing significant time and resources. Similar issues were raised by ASPI’s Justin Bassi and John Coyne in August, with the division of counterterrorism responsibility between Home Affairs and the Attorney-General’s Department splitting expertise.

A real CT and CVE strategy requires new policy, more specifics and clear objectives. An increasingly difficult operational environment demands innovative policy backed by expertise. Terrorism is evolving and the threat it poses is increasing. Policy and resourcing need to be commensurate with this challenge.

To pre-empt extremist violence, we need real-time social media data sharing

Law enforcement and social media platforms must implement real-time data sharing to stop online extremism before it leads to violence. Using appropriate safeguards, we can achieve this without raising concerns about creating a surveillance state.

Social media companies have vast behavioural data, but their reluctance to share it with authorities means we’re left scrambling after an attack occurs. The resulting delay facilitates radicalisation and puts lives at risk. Rather than reacting to attacks, we should aim to prevent harm through a coordinated, data-driven approach. The current system is failing. Speed matters. Privacy concerns are valid, but when the stakes are this high, we need to ask: how many more lives are we willing to risk?

Extremist groups exploit unregulated online spaces to recruit, radicalise and incite violence. By the time we detect it, it’s often too late. We’ve seen the deadly consequences: shootings, terrorism and violence facilitated through social media. Social media companies like to claim they are neutral platforms, but they control the algorithms that amplify content, creating an environment where radical ideas can thrive.

Take the Christchurch mosque shootings in 2019 for example. The shooter posted his manifesto on Facebook and 8chan (an online message-board) before killing 51 people. Although Facebook moved quickly to remove his manifesto, the content spread to thousands. But his interactions with extremist groups and violent posts could have been flagged long before the attack. If they had then been shared immediately with law enforcement, authorities could have detected his extremist behaviour early and intervened.

Social media platforms must be more proactive in identifying extremist content and sharing it with authorities immediately. Delayed intervention leaves room for radicalisation. This is compounded by algorithms that prioritise content likely to generate engagement—likes, shares and comments. Extreme content, which often elicits strong emotional reactions, is amplified. Conspiracy theories, such as QAnon, spread widely on online platforms, drawing users deeper into radical echo chambers.

This isn’t about mass surveillance—it’s about content moderation. This approach should build on existing moderation systems. Authorities should only be alerted when certain thresholds of suspicious activity are crossed, much as financial institutions report suspicious transactions. For example, if activity suggests a user is being recruited by a terrorist group, or if the user shares plans for violence, social media companies should have the ability—and in fact the responsibility—to flag this behaviour to authorities.

Of course, automated content detection can result in misjudgements. This is where human content moderators within social media companies could play a role: once an automated system flags potentially harmful activity, it could trigger a review by an employee who would assess whether the flagged behaviour meets a threshold for real-time sharing with law enforcement. If the content is likely to incite violence or indicate a credible threat, the moderator could initiate real-time data sharing with authorities for possible intervention.

This verification process could be among the safeguards in place to ensure that only high-risk, potentially harmful activities are flagged, protecting the privacy of those who don’t present a threat and preventing concerns arising about the government creating a surveillance state. Shared data would follow appropriate legal channels, ensuring transparency and accountability.

The costs of implementing real-time data-sharing systems are manageable. Social media platforms already use automated systems for content moderation, which could be adapted to flag extremist behaviour without imposing significant human resource costs. Shared financial responsibility between social media companies and law enforcement could also help. Law enforcement agencies could receive funding to process flagged data, while tech companies would have to pay for technology needed to detect extremist activity. We can manage implementation costs and focus resources where they’re most needed by prioritising high-risk platforms and upscaling the system over time.

A limitation is that Australia could not impose this mechanism on platform operators that had no presence in the country. But the larger platforms’ operators, such as Meta, X and Snap, do.

Our current reactive approach isn’t working. We need real-time data sharing between tech companies and law enforcement to intercept threats before they escalate. Lives are at stake, and we can’t afford to wait for the next tragedy.

Understanding what drives terror

Defeating groups such as al-Qaeda (AQ) and Daesh cannot be done through military means alone, but will require a much more detailed understanding of the ideology and theology driving them and encouraging their recruits.

A deeper understanding of those groups’ belief systems will also help us understand why, despite the removal of Daesh’s ‘caliphate’ in Iraq and Syria, these groups will not be defeated overnight.

My new report, A primer on the ideological and theological drivers of AQ and Daesh, says that the ideological precepts and beliefs that drive al-Qaeda and Daesh—which I call ‘al-Qaedaism’—facilitate a narrative based on ‘them’ and ‘us’, and on righting historical wrongs. This narrative holds ‘them’—the West—responsible for the suffering of ‘us’—defined as ‘all true Muslims’. The ideology also provides ‘us’ with an identity and a justification for the plan of action aimed at addressing wrongs.

We need to recognise that for those attracted to these extremist groups, al-Qaedaism provides a coping mechanism because it presents the world and issues through a simplified, binary lens of ‘good’ and ‘bad’, the exploited and the exploiter. In response, we need to come up with better ideas if we are to win the ideological war.

Al‑Qaedaists recognise that across the world many people, often in their teens and 20s, are angry and want to blame someone or something for the injustice that they see all around. Al‑Qaedaism explains why they aren’t benefiting from globalisation, why they’re experiencing discrimination and hardship, and why there’s no justice.

The al‑Qaedaist ideology draws on a distinct interpretation of Islam and of Islamic history, emphasising that Muslims empires and dynasties dominated the Middle East from 632 to 1923: the Rashidun Caliphate (632–661), the Umayyad Caliphate (661–750), the Abbasid Caliphate (750–1258), and the Ottomans (1258–1923). Beyond the Middle East, there were also Muslim empires, among them the Songhai Empire (1340–1591) in Central Africa, the Almoravid dynasty (1040–1147) in North Africa, the Mughal Empire in India (1526–1857), the Mamluk dynasty of Delhi (1206–1290) and the Sultanate of Aceh (1496–1903).

Accordingly, al-Qaedaism accepts (and even embraces) the existence of a clash of civilisations in which Western civilisation is seen not only as corrupt and lacking moral authority, but also unjust. Notably, Islam isn’t merely a religion but a way of life that covers the political, social, cultural, economic and spiritual aspects. The issue of justice preys heavily on al‑Qaedaists, who assert that Muslims don’t get any justice in the contemporary world.

Al‑Qaedaism is seen as a revolutionary ideology and its adherents as members of the vanguard—they’re the enlightened ones, having shed their false consciousness. The vanguards are the ones willing to die for the cause, the martyrs.

The ideology is eschatological, apocalyptic, conspiratorial and hagiographical, characteristics that feed into the glocalist agenda of al-Qaeda and Daesh. These elements make al‑Qaedaism a primarily millenarianist movement.

Millenarianism is highly attractive to those with little faith in the contemporary world order because it feeds into the narrative of the ‘them’ and ‘us’ while promising the emergence of a perfect world for those who believed in and fought for it. The nature of the al-Qaeda ideology explains why its defeat may not happen quickly. It also defends changes in strategy, supports sacrifice and underlines what adherents see as the evil nature of those who oppose the al-Qaedaist mantra.

By understanding al-Qaedaism, we could better counter the violence that it perpetrates, inspires and advocates by appreciating why individuals are attracted to these movements. That may also help us to understand that we’re engaging in a cosmic, generational conflict, led by individuals who corrupt the key tenets of Islam. There’s a need to think not only of the now, but of tomorrow because al-Qaedaism constantly proselytises, reaching out to the disenchanted, the angry and the disillusioned, which is why President Barack Obama was correct when he said, ‘This is not simply a military effort. Ideologies are not defeated by guns. They’re defeated with better ideas.’

While the animosity between AQ and Daesh is well documented, it’s clear that some move almost seamlessly between AQ and the Daesh camp. For example, al-Shabaab used to be in the AQ space, before shifting to Daesh, before switching back to AQ. Jamaat-ul-Ahrar, a Pakistan-based group, at one point declared allegiance to Daesh, only to change later as it began cooperating with the Taliban.

Now that the caliphate has disbanded, a key difference between the two groups—the ability to claim the presence of an Islamic state and Daesh’s use of and commitment to indiscriminate terror as a way to govern—means that they may find that they have more in common. This doesn’t suggest a merger, but rather the possibility that the two will concentrate more on achieving their goal of bringing forth their idealised version of an Islamic state, especially since they share an ideology.

My report builds on the work of Western scholars such as Bruce Hoffman, Daniel Byman and others who point out that AQ and Daesh may have differences but also have a lot in common, and Daesh often develops AQ’s ideas.

Much of Daesh’s ideology is based on ideas and views promulgated by such men as Osama bin Laden, Ayman al-Zawahiri, Abu Musab al-Suri, Abu Yahya al-Libi, Abu Bakr Naji, Abu Khayr al-Masri and Nasir al-Wuhayshi, added to by others over time as Daesh and AQ have sought new recruits.

As AQ and Daesh transform, there’s a need for a recognition that hard power has limited value and efficacy. Because al-Qaedaism exploits grievances, encourages social divisions through overreaction and unrealistic demands, and provides a program of action, policymakers must become more conscious that their actions and words will become tools in the radicalisation process. We need to recognise that AQ and Daesh present many people with an ideology that explains to them why they aren’t benefiting from globalisation or why they’re experiencing discrimination and hardship.

As Professor Peter Neumann notes, there is no one counter-narrative and no one counter-narrator. Effective counter-messaging campaigns must be loud, voluminous and international.

Violent extremism: mind the women and children

The fact that three separate families—including the children—perpetrated the attacks in Surabaya two weeks ago is obviously horrifying. But Islamic State’s (IS) use of women and children isn’t unprecedented. Governments must be aware of this to develop a better understanding of what the threat looks like if they’re to cultivate and implement robust measures to prevent and counter violent extremism (P/CVE).

Women have been engaging in political violence for decades, so the idea of women being radicalised towards terrorism shouldn’t be surprising. A 2017 report from the Heritage Foundation concluded that 17% of terrorist plots in Europe since 2014 featured women. IS also claimed responsibility for an attack perpetrated by three women at a police station in Mombasa in September 2016, and authorities in Morocco disrupted a group of 10 women planning suicide attacks across the country a month later.

Children are also vulnerable to being exploited and recruited for violence for tactical benefit. The Heritage Foundation noted that 25% of attacks in Europe since 2014 involved teens or pre-teens. From 2014 to 2016, IS is thought to have recruited and trained more than 2,000 boys—referred to as the ‘Lion Cubs of the Caliphate’. Between April 2011 and July 2017, at least 56% of Boko Haram’s 434 bombers were women, and 81 were children or teenagers. Using child soldiers gives groups and their attacks maximum publicity. In addition, training and indoctrinating children from an early age is an investment in the organisation’s longevity.

In 2014, notorious Australian jihadi Khaled Sharrouf tweeted a photo of his seven-year-old son holding a man’s severed head. The caption read, ‘That’s my boy.’ Sharrouf’s teenage daughter, Zaynab, was one of the most vocal advocates for violence against the West on her social media channels in 2014 and 2015.

One of the key contemporary challenges to national security relates to returnees from the caliphate overseas. It would be helpful to evaluate how P/CVE initiatives are engaging with women and children returnees, and to know where the gaps and challenges lie and how the initiatives could be improved.

At present, best practice in dealing with women and children returnees remains underdeveloped. Much more research is required to inform training. For now, there are three clear areas where a gendered perspective could be helpful when dealing with female returnees.

First, although women were recruited to IS to fulfil domestic roles, others were engaged in various forms of violent action. Upon returning from overseas, they’re very likely to have extensive knowledge of bomb making and weapons use. Ensuring that P/CVE assessments are equipped to discern what skill sets each individual has is important in order to appropriately assess the risk of violence each individual may pose upon reintegration into communities.

Second, because current P/CVE policy and practice relies on particular notions of masculinity and femininity, women are perceived within a ‘maternal logic’ that sees them as innately less dangerous than men. Extensive research has shown that violent extremism appeals to  men and women in equal measure, and that women can be as ideologically committed as their male counterparts. However, P/CVE measures fail to integrate these findings when designing and implementing initiatives. This not only denies women agency in their motivations and grievances, but it fails to understand that men and women may pose a similar threat to national security.

Third, women have been avid recruiters for IS, whether encouraging individuals to make a hijrah to the caliphate, or encouraging them to carry out attacks at home. Due to cultural restrictions in some Muslim communities, making contact in public places isn’t always possible for women and may restrict their physical contact with potential recruits. As a result, women have cultivated strong networks online, taking advantage of the anonymity the internet provides. P/CVE initiatives that aim to ‘engage’ members of the community need to be aware that men and women may not frequent the same places. Those programs may have to extend their reach to connect with individuals online as well as offline.

Children pose a separate set of challenges to P/CVE policy and practice, which aren’t adequately understood either. Any child returning from a conflict zone will require a very specific type of care to address the physical and mental trauma they’re likely to have experienced. Those returning from Iraq or Syria may have been involved in violence or been trained as child soldiers. This is a complex situation where children are at once victims and perpetrators of violence.

Although the chance that a child would continue with political violence can’t be known, it’s crucial that P/CVE initiatives and interventions deliver appropriate support, rehabilitation and reintegration services to deal with the long-term consequences of these children’s trauma. That includes providing education and employment opportunities, mental health support, positive mentors and guardians, and a safe environment to ask questions without being penalised.

The way we currently approach P/CVE policy and practice doesn’t effectively interrogate the ways in which women and children have been affected by violent extremism, or how they could pose security risks. As Sidney Jones has argued, ‘deradicalisation has to happen as a family’ when dealing with someone who could be at risk of radicalisation, whether that person is a returnees or has never left home.

Not only is it important to apply a gender lens to P/CVE policy and practice, but it’s imperative to develop interventions that minimise risk and build resilience into the long term, rather than as a reaction to the current problem. That’s the most appropriate means of ensuring a positive outcome.