In the long aftermath of the Islamic State's territorial collapse, Australia now confronts a question that sits at the intersection of justice, mercy, and national safety: what is owed to those who may have chosen extremism, and what is owed to the children caught in the consequences of that choice? Kirsty Rosse-Emile, one of eleven Australian women stranded in Syrian refugee camps, is now under Australian Federal Police investigation after a former housemate alleged she expressed a desire to make bombs years before joining IS — a claim that directly challenges her public narrative of having b
AFP investigates Australian ISIS bride after alleged bomb-making comments surface
23 children of 11 Australian women are stranded in Syrian refugee camps awaiting potential repatriation or indefinite detention.
I don't want to go to school, I want to go and make bombs
Mark
Why would someone make a statement like that to a housemate, knowing it could be remembered?
Mimi
People say things when they're young and ideologically committed that they don't expect will haunt them later. She probably didn't imagine a former housemate would go to the AFP with it decades down the line.
Mark
But her father confirmed she wasn't tricked. That's her own parent saying she chose this.
Mimi
Right. And that's the fracture in her story. She's asking for mercy based on deception, but the people closest to her are saying she knew exactly what she was doing.
Mark
What about the children? They didn't choose any of this.
Mimi
That's the real tension. Twenty-three kids born into camps, many of them with no memory of Australia. But the government has to weigh whether bringing their mothers back creates a security problem that affects other children.
Mark
Is there any path forward here?
Mimi
Not an obvious one. She'd need to renounce everything—the ideology, the marriage, the choices—and prove it convincingly. But her Facebook posts are still up. Her father is still defending the ideology. The AFP investigation suggests authorities don't believe she's genuinely reformed.
Mark
What happens to her if she's not allowed back?
Mimi
She stays in the camp indefinitely, along with the other women and children. It's not a solution; it's a holding pattern that punishes everyone involved.
El Pulso
- A former housemate's testimony to the AFP — that Rosse-Emile said 'I want to go and make bombs' at seventeen — directly contradicts her claim of being tricked into Syria, triggering a formal police investigation.
- Facebook posts celebrating jihad and Islamic State, still publicly visible, and her own father's rejection of her 'I was deceived' story, compound the evidentiary pressure against her.
- The witness, Sara, has told investigators that allowing these women to return poses a concrete security risk, invoking the December Bondi Beach massacre as a warning of what ideological extremism can produce on Australian soil.
- The Australian government is attempting to navigate between two urgent moral claims: the humanitarian case for twenty-three children stranded in refugee camps, and the national security case against repatriating women with documented extremist histories.
- At least one of the eleven women is already subject to a temporary exclusion order on national security grounds, signaling that authorities are moving toward differentiated, case-by-case responses rather than a blanket policy.
- The AFP investigation into Rosse-Emile is now expected to serve as a template — its findings likely shaping how Australia handles the broader repatriation question for all eleven women.
In the long aftermath of the Islamic State's territorial collapse, Australia now confronts a question that sits at the intersection of justice, mercy, and national safety: what is owed to those who may have chosen extremism, and what is owed to the children caught in the consequences of that choice? Kirsty Rosse-Emile, one of eleven Australian women stranded in Syrian refugee camps, is now under Australian Federal Police investigation after a former housemate alleged she expressed a desire to make bombs years before joining IS — a claim that directly challenges her public narrative of having been deceived. The case forces a reckoning not only with one woman's past, but with the limits of redemption as a policy framework when twenty-three children's futures hang in the balance.
Kirsty Rosse-Emile is among eleven Australian women in Syrian refugee camps asking the Albanese government to bring them and their twenty-three children home. She is now the subject of an Australian Federal Police investigation — one that began when a former housemate came forward with an account that cuts against everything Rosse-Emile has said publicly about her path to Syria.
Around 2010, when Rosse-Emile was seventeen and living on the outskirts of Melbourne, a mutual friend suggested she return to school. Her response, according to her former housemate Sara, was blunt: she didn't want school — she wanted to make bombs. Sara has agreed to cooperate with the AFP, and has indicated she would testify in court if necessary to prevent Rosse-Emile's return to Australia.
Rosse-Emile's own account has been markedly different. She has said she was deceived into entering the warzone, that she married an IS fighter at fourteen, and that she was essentially trapped. In an appeal to the government, she asked simply to be brought home so she and her children could start their lives again. But the evidence surrounding her tells a more complicated story. Her Facebook pages, maintained before her departure, still carry posts reading 'Jihad. The only solution' and 'Lions of Islam,' alongside images of terrorist figures. Her own father has publicly dismissed her claim of being tricked, suggesting instead that the government resettle the women in a country governed by Sharia law — which, he said, was what his daughter had always wanted.
Sara told investigators that even if Rosse-Emile no longer holds violent intentions, the extremist beliefs she carried as a married adult would not simply have dissolved. She pointed to the Bondi Beach massacre — in which fifteen Jewish people were killed in an antisemitic attack — as a warning of what the government risks if it knowingly allows someone with a terrorism history back into the country.
The broader group of eleven women includes Nesrine, Aminah, and Sumaya Zahab, Kawsar Abbas and her daughters, and several others. Home Affairs Minister Tony Burke has confirmed that at least one of them is already subject to a temporary exclusion order on national security grounds. The government's dilemma is unresolved: twenty-three children are stranded, their futures entangled with the choices and beliefs of their mothers — and the AFP investigation into Rosse-Emile will likely determine how Australia chooses to answer that dilemma.
Kirsty Rosse-Emile is one of eleven Australian women stuck in Syrian refugee camps, pleading with the government to bring her home along with their collective twenty-three children. She is now under investigation by the Australian Federal Police.
The probe began after a former housemate came forward with an account that contradicts Rosse-Emile's public narrative about how she ended up in Syria. Around 2010, when Rosse-Emile was seventeen and renting a self-contained unit on the outskirts of Melbourne, a mutual friend asked if she wanted to return to school. According to her former housemate Sara, Rosse-Emile—who went by the Islamic name Asma at the time—responded: "I don't want to go to school, I want to go and make bombs." The AFP contacted Sara about the matter on Tuesday, and she has agreed to cooperate with the investigation.
Rosse-Emile's public account has been different. She has claimed she was deceived twelve years ago into entering the warzone, that she married an Islamic State fighter named Nabil Kadmiry when she was just fourteen, and that she was essentially trapped. When interviewed by the ABC last year, she declined to explain the circumstances of her departure to Syria, saying it "could create problems for me." In a message to the Albanese government, she struck a conciliatory tone: "Hello, I'm here. Can you just come and get me, finally, and my children and all the other Australians here? We're ready to start our lives afresh."
But the evidence Sara provided to police suggests a more deliberate choice. Her former housemate told the AFP that allowing these women to return could pose a serious security risk to Australia, pointing to the Bondi Beach massacre in December, when fifteen Jewish people were killed in an act of antisemitism. Sara emphasized to investigators that the government cannot afford to say it knowingly allowed someone suspected of terrorism back into the country. She also noted that even if Rosse-Emile no longer harbors violent intentions, the extremist beliefs she held as a married woman would remain embedded. "This wasn't her mentality when she was 14, this was when she was a married woman, and it wasn't something that she made up on the spot," Sara said. She has indicated she is willing to testify in court if necessary to prevent Rosse-Emile's return.
Other evidence complicates Rosse-Emile's narrative further. Her Facebook pages, which she maintained before leaving for Syria, still contain supportive statements about Islamic State. Posts read "Jihad. The only solution" and "Lions of Islam," overlaid with images of terrorist figures. Her own father, when asked about her claims of being tricked, rejected them outright. "When she said, 'Oh, I was tricked' and all that, it's not true," he told The Nightly last year. He suggested the Australian government should instead resettle the women in a Muslim country like Turkey, where Sharia law would be enforced—which he said was what his daughter wanted all along.
Rosse-Emile's husband, Nabil Kadmiry, was captured during the territorial collapse of Islamic State in 2019 and is believed to be held in a Kurdish prison. The other ten Australian women seeking repatriation include Nesrine Zahab, Aminah Zahab, Sumaya Zahab, Kawsar Abbas and her daughters Zeinab and Zahra Ahmed, Janai Safar, Hodan Abby, Kawsar Kanj, and Hyam Raad. Home Affairs Minister Tony Burke revealed last week that at least one of these women is already subject to a temporary exclusion order on national security grounds, which could prevent her from entering Australia for two years. The identity of that woman has not been disclosed.
The government now faces a difficult calculation: balancing humanitarian concerns for twenty-three children against the security risks posed by their mothers' documented extremist associations and statements. The AFP investigation into Rosse-Emile is likely to shape how authorities approach the broader question of whether and how to bring these women home.
Citas Notables
I don't want to go to school, I want to go and make bombs— Kirsty Rosse-Emile, allegedly to former housemate Sara in 2010
When she said, 'Oh, I was tricked' and all that, it's not true— Rosse-Emile's father, to The Nightly
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Politics & Governance