FactCheck Q&A: have any refugees who came to Australia gone on to be terrorists?

Clarke Jones, Australian National University

The Conversation is fact-checking claims made on Q&A, broadcast Mondays on the ABC at 9:35pm. Thank you to everyone who sent us quotes for checking via Twitter using hashtags #FactCheck and #QandA, on Facebook or by email.

Excerpt from Q&A, November 23, 2015.

I know that since 1976, there have been 70,000 asylum seekers settled in Australia who arrived by boat. Not one of them has been found to have a link to terrorism. – Tasneem Chopra, cross cultural consultant, speaking on Q&A, November 23, 2015.

Since the recent Paris terrorism attacks, Chopra and others have argued that Australians have nothing to fear from refugees arriving by boat.

But others have linked national security concerns to refugees.

Liberal Senator Cory Bernardi recently told the ABC that:

In our previous refugee intake, we’ve had examples where people who’ve been accepted as refugees have gone on to commit terrorist acts or plan terror attacks in this country.

So are Chopra and Bernardi right in making those two claims?

The answer is not entirely black and white, partly because of a lack of publicly available information. But based on my knowledge of this area, research and contacting senior police investigators, this is the best evidence available.

Boat vs plane arrivals

The first thing to remember is that the majority of asylum seekers arriving in Australia do so by plane.

It’s also true that of the handful of former refugees who went on to involve themselves in terrorist activities, most grew up in and were radicalised in Australia. Most arrived as children. They did not step off planes or boats in Australia as fully formed terrorists who somehow evaded security checks and slipped into Australia.

When asked for a source for her assertion, Chopra sent a comment from the Asylum Seekers Resource Centre that said:

The statistic is based on the past 15 years of work in that sector where not one asylum seeker who arrived by boat has been charged with domestic terrorism. Man Haron Monis, the perpetrator of the Lindt Cafe seige, arrived by plane. And regarding the numbers of boat arrivals, this was drawn from stats with this parliamentary library link, indicating around 69,000 since 1976.

Boat arrivals by calendar year 1976 to 2014 and financial year 1989-90 to 2014-15.
Parliamentary Library, CC BY

I know this is not a very satisfying answer, but we can’t say with absolute certainty that no refugees who arrived by boat have been linked to terrorism. That’s because the police who have investigated the handful of terrorist plots in Australia that have been perpetrated by former asylum seekers didn’t always collect information on their mode of arrival.

It’s also true there’s no obvious, compelling evidence proving Chopra is wrong. As an expert advising the Australian government and courts on terrorism and counter-terrorism, I am not aware of any perpetrators or plotters who arrived in Australia by boat.

Some people who have arrived by boat may have gone on to break Australian laws or commit crimes, but that is obviously not the same as saying they are terrorists.

What about the Lindt Cafe seige, the Paramatta shooting and others?

It is true the man behind the 2014 Lindt cafe seige, Man Haron Monis, was a refugee who arrived in Australia from Iran. However, he did not arrive by boat – he came on a plane, just like most refugees. In fact, he arrived on a business visa.

Whether or not the Lindt Cafe seige qualifies as a terrorist act is also contested. Some experts say it was; others contend that while Monis latched onto Islamic State as his cause, there’s no compelling evidence to indicate that Monis had any confirmed links with them.

Farhad Khalil Mohammad Jabar, the IS-inspired 15-year-old who shot police officer Curtis Cheng outside the NSW Police Parramatta headquarters in October, was of Iraqi-Kurdish background. His family moved to Australia. No reliable evidence has emerged so far to suggest he arrived in Australia by boat.

A spokesperson for Senator Bernardi also referred The Conversation to a plot to attack the Holdsworthy Army Barracks in Sydney.

One of the plotters in that case, Saney Edow Aweys, arrived in Australia as a 15-year-old refugee, but we don’t know for sure if he came by boat or plane. The judgement in that case doesn’t say.

Senator Bernardi’s spokesperson sent another news article on Mohammad Ali Baryalei, accused of conspiring to behead an Australian in a random attack.

Baryalei’s aristocratic Afghan family came to Australia as refugees when he was a child, the ABC has reported.

Again, it’s not clear whether Baryalei arrived in Australia by boat or plane. There’s no compelling evidence suggesting it was one or the other. We do know he was a child when he arrived.

So Bernardi is also correct to say that, in general terms, there are a handful of documented cases of refugees who have settled in Australia being linked to terrorism. These refugees did not arrive as fully formed terrorists who slipped through security measures.


Let’s look at the two claims separately.

We can’t say with absolute certainty that Tasneem Chopra is correct to say that no refugees who arrived by boat have been linked to terrorism. However, there’s no obvious compelling evidence showing she is wrong.

With the current intake of the 12,000 Syrian refugees, there are tight selection processes and comprehensive screening procedures conducted before refugees enter Australia that dramatically reduce any chances of terrorists (or criminals) slipping into Australia.

Bernardi is correct. There have been a handful of asylum seekers who arrived in Australia by plane who we know have been eventually linked to terrorism.

It’s also worth noting what Chopra’s co-panellist, former Greek finance minister Yanis Varoufakis said on Q&A the same evening:

… when you have a massive exodus of refugees, there may very well be a couple of insurgents that infiltrate but it’s neither here nor there. Both the terrorist attacks and the refugee influx are symptoms of the same problem but one doesn’t cause the other.

– Clarke Jones


This is a sound analysis. There is an unfortunate trend in the debates about national security and border security towards both hyperbole and generalisation. This article is careful to avoid these. It examines the publicly available material and ultimately concludes that it is impossible to say whether or not any Australian terrorists arrived in this country by boat. While this lack of certainty may be frustrating for some readers, there are two important points to be taken from this article.

The first is that extremely few – if indeed any – of the people who have arrived in Australia by boat have later had any involvement with terrorism.

Secondly, this article highlights the irrelevance (including to the police) of how terrorism suspects arrived in Australia. In my experience – both in co-authoring a book, Inside Australia’s Anti-Terrorism Laws and Trials, and also appearing as junior defence counsel for Saney Aweys (linked to the Holdsworthy Army barracks plot) in his trial before the Victorian Supreme Court – whether a person arrives in Australia by boat or plane has no bearing on their likelihood of later being involved in terrorism. To the best of my knowledge, the mode of arrival was not even something that we discussed with Aweys during our pre-trial interviews.

The only thing that I would add to this article about Aweys’ background is that he spent many years in a refugee camp in Ethiopia before coming to Australia and being granted a humanitarian visa.

This – in combination with the fact that his arrival coincided with the Australian government’s decision to accept a significant number of refugees from Somalia and that I have no recollection of him spending any time in immigration detention – would suggest that he did not arrive here by boat. This could be confirmed by speaking to Aweys but that is of course easier said than done, given his current detention in a maximum security gaol. – Nicola McGarrity

Have you ever seen a “fact” worth checking? The Conversation’s FactCheck asks academic experts to test claims and see how true they are. We then ask a second academic to review an anonymous copy of the article. You can request a check at checkit@theconversation.edu.au. Please include the statement you would like us to check, the date it was made, and a link if possible.

The Conversation

Clarke Jones, Co-Director of the Australian Intervention Support Hub (AISH), Australian National University

This article was originally published on The Conversation. Read the original article.

Here’s another reason kids don’t belong in detention: trauma changes growing brains

Julian G. Simmons, University of Melbourne; Meg Dennison, University of Washington, and Nick Haslam, University of Melbourne

A bill that would release the 112 children in immigration detention in Australia will soon go before the House of Representatives. The bill passed the Senate last week, but it could be rejected by a government-majority House.

While it’s widely accepted that detention is bad for child asylum seekers, the long-term effects of that harm are rarely spelled out. Our recently published research sheds some light on this.

So what should members of parliament consider when casting their votes?

Growing brains are vulnerable

The brain has evolved to respond effectively to stressful situations, many of which are normal challenges of everyday life. Indeed, some researchers argue that humans’ extended period of childhood and adolescence (compared to other species) has evolved to maximise our adaptability to the varied environments and social dynamics we traverse. What defines these periods, in this context, is a changing brain, a brain trying to adapt.

This adaptability, however, comes at a cost: growing brains are more vulnerable. Repeated trauma in childhood appears to change children’s enduring hormonal function and brain development, and increases the risk of developing a range of psychological disorders.

Cortisol is often referred to as the “stress” hormone. It plays a complex and wide-ranging role in the human stress and arousal response. Cortisol is also central to glucose availability, blood pressure and immune function.

Alterations in cortisol function are found in people with depression and post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD), but are also a risk factor for these disorders. A recent study found soldiers with lower cortisol output before going to war in Afghanistan were more likely to develop PTSD symptoms after traumatic events experienced during their deployment.

Cortisol has traditionally been measured in saliva, blood or urine, reflecting output over minutes or days. These studies have found either unusually high or low levels of cortisol in children who have experienced maltreatment. This defective regulation suggests a system initially pushed into overdrive, and then overwhelmed, becomes fatigued.

But this changing physiological picture, and our constantly varying levels of cortisol, has led to many inconsistent findings.

What did our research find?

Our new research studied the cortisol levels of 70 nine-year-old children living in and around Melbourne. We recorded these levels from scalp hair to determine their total cortisol output over months.

We found that the number and types of traumatic events experienced earlier in childhood correlated with hair cortisol levels. These events included illness and deaths in the family, and being sick or hurt in an accident. More extreme events, such as fires, floods or being threatened or attacked, were relatively uncommon.

Traumatic experiences in childhood alter the development of brain structures during adolescence. These structures include those directly linked to cortisol production, such as the pituitary gland, as well as others linked with emotion processing and memory, such as the amygdala and hippocampus. Alterations in these structures have been identified in mental health disorders.

We have shown that adversity increases the risk of mental health disorders in adolescence. These disorders in turn further alter the way the brain develops.

Childhood adversity, particularly maltreatment, is associated with increased risk for numerous behavioural problems. These include drug use, suicide attempts, risky sexual behaviour and sexually transmitted infections. The earlier the experience of adversity in childhood, the greater the risk of poor mental health outcomes.

What does this mean for detained children?

Clearly there are differences between the environments of our Melbourne families and those of detained children. But these differences are largely matters of degree.

Children in detention are at very high risk of exposure to physical and sexual assault, family separation, environmental deprivation and forced relocation. They also commonly witness traumatic events affecting loved ones. These experiences roughly double their risk of developing mental health problems later in life.

The more traumatic events a child experiences, the more likely lasting problems will emerge. A recent German assessment of families seeking refugee status found that 86.5% had already experienced multiple traumas involving war, torture and involuntary displacement.

Children entering detention in Australia already have elevated rates of psychological problems. The trauma of detention is likely to compound these harmful effects, which may persist long after the resolution of the immigration process.

Childhood is a sensitive and vulnerable period; experiences of trauma and adversity can produce harm that endures into adulthood. This inescapable knowledge should inform policy on the release of children from detention and remind us of the care and support they will need when they are finally released.

The Conversation

Julian G. Simmons, Research Fellow in Child and Adolescent Mental Health, University of Melbourne; Meg Dennison, Postdoctoral Research Associate, University of Washington, and Nick Haslam, Professor of Psychology, University of Melbourne

This article was originally published on The Conversation. Read the original article.

What do the Paris attacks mean for Australia’s Syrian refugee intake?

Mark Briskey, Curtin University

The dust had barely settled on the atrocious attacks in Paris when the spectre of terrorists hiding among the refugees fleeing Iraq and Syria was raised. The attacks have caused some to question Australia’s one-off intake of 12,000 Syrian refugees.

NSW Nationals MP Andrew Fraser called on Australia to “close our borders” in the interests of national security. Other former political figures have been sounding the clarion call of the dire consequences of Australia accepting these refugees.

The idea that there are “hidden terrorists” among the refugee intake is being raised due to the likelihood that at least one of the Paris attackers had arrived in France via a refugee channel from Greece. So, is it possible that Australia is about to be infiltrated by Islamic State-inspired militants among the refugees we are offering sanctuary to?

History provides lessons

The crisis enveloping Europe in attending to and properly caring for millions of terrified refugees fleeing the Assad regime in Syria and Islamic State (IS) is phenomenally problematic. These problems have ruptured some relationships between European Union and non-EU nations.

This represents the largest mass movement of people in Europe since the second world war. There are other great similarities between these two calamitous movements of people. The UK, for instance, was initially hostile to accepting large numbers of Jewish refugees due to a belief that they would not assimilate.

With so many people fleeing so much persecution, it beggars belief that there are people who have attached themselves to groups seeking to escape this barbarity but whose objectives are the very antithesis of those seeking sanctuary. But this is what some early information in the Paris attacks’ aftermath seems to suggest has taken place.

In this regard, it is entirely possible that a small number of IS followers have infiltrated groups seeking refuge and solace. Those guilty of evil crimes and those with evil intent hiding among the innocent is regrettably not unknown in these situations. In the second world war’s aftermath, the “ratlines” – or escape routes – of Nazis and fascists included their immersion among the refugee populations.

This has also been the case with more recent conflicts in the Balkans and elsewhere. Alleged war criminals have been found living in Australia.

A difficult task ahead

The task of identifying anyone from a war zone is very challenging – even more so when the particular countries people are fleeing have either rudimentary or no form of records of the essential details of their citizens.

This is why, following the September 11 attacks, a great deal of aid came from the US trying to introduce more robust identity-capturing measures globally.

This remains an unfinished project. In many areas where refugees continue to flee, there is not a comparable form of quick computerised identity checking as in Australia. Certain agencies here can access a computer with or without a warrant to look at your records. But this is not the case in countries where discovering someone’s identity is reduced to knowing the names of the individual’s parents and the specific village, town or area from which they hail.

These problems notwithstanding, the agencies tasked with undertaking such checks do so exhaustively. The checks can rely on everything from an allied country’s records to information from refugees themselves. The refugees have a passionate interest in ensuring their former persecutors are not among those persons provided sanctuary.

IS should not be equated with Islam – nor with the terrified Muslim refugees trying to escape the very acts that were perpetrated in Paris.

The Conversation

Mark Briskey, Senior Lecturer, National Security and International Relations, Curtin University

This article was originally published on The Conversation. Read the original article.

Did ‘ending’ detention on Nauru also end the constitutional challenge to offshore processing?

Joyce Chia, Monash University and Asher Hirsch, Monash University

The Nauruan government announced earlier this week that it will remove the remaining restrictions on the liberty of the asylum seekers detained there, and process all pending claims for asylum. It initially said it would process the claims in a week, but has since backtracked from that commitment.

Many have claimed that the announcement is a strategic move to undermine a constitutional challenge to Australia’s offshore detention regime, heard by the High Court this week – although the Australian government has denied this. So does the policy change spell the end of the challenge?

While that question can only be answered after the High Court’s decision, the hearings give a hint. The short answer is that the Nauruan government’s announcements have already had a much greater effect in the High Court than on Nauru itself.

So what is this case about anyway?

The plaintiff in this case is a Bangladeshi woman who was detained on Nauru before being brought to Australia during her pregnancy. If the case fails, she, her ten-month-old baby and more than 200 people now in Australia will be sent back to Nauru or Manus Island.

The case, together with a similar one relating to Manus Island, began as a challenge to the Commonwealth’s power to spend money on offshore processing centres. This was on the basis of recent High Court cases that found that legislation was generally required to authorise the Commonwealth entering into contracts and spending money, subject to certain exceptions.

Not unusually, parliament intervened. In late June, the major parties combined to pass “emergency” authorising legislation, which applied retrospectively.

This meant the plaintiff was forced instead to argue that the emergency legislation was invalid because it did not fall within the Commonwealth’s powers to make laws set out under the Constitution. As the High Court’s questions made clear, this is a difficult argument to run. The authorising legislation appears clearly related to at least two of the broadest legislative powers of the Commonwealth – the power to regulate aliens and the power to engage in external affairs.

The plaintiff’s main argument now was that the Commonwealth, by in effect detaining asylum seekers on Nauru, went beyond its constitutional power to detain. The argument rested on two main steps.

  • First, previous cases had established certain constitutional limits on the executive’s power to detain asylum seekers in Australia. These limits included that such detention must be limited to permissible purposes and limited in time to what was reasonably practicable to effect that purpose, and that the courts must be capable of supervising the legality of that detention.

  • Second, these constitutional limits did not apply to detention on Nauru. The effect of this was that the offshore processing regime enabled Australia to do outside its borders what it could not do inside. This would in effect subvert the High Court’s role in supervising the constitutionality of executive power.

At the heart of this was an argument that the Commonwealth was to be treated as, in substance, detaining the asylum seekers. That argument rested on the evidence that the Commonwealth funded, authorised and controlled the offshore processing regime.

This is a difficult argument to run. Similar arguments failed last year before the High Court. As High Court justices pointed out this week, there is nothing in either the Migration Act or the Memorandum of Understanding that requires Nauru to detain asylum seekers.

How did Nauru’s announcement change the case?

Nauru’s announcements over the past week significantly undermined the plaintiff’s main argument. This argument rests on there being unconstitutional detention, and now there is no detention.

As a consequence, the Commonwealth argued that all of the questions (and associated remedies) in the case relating to the Commonwealth’s future conduct were no longer relevant.

The Commonwealth is also now arguing that it is not useful for the High Court to consider the legality of past detention. This is because deciding that question will not produce any real consequence for the plaintiff.

That might surprise lay observers, but Australian courts have long held that the courts should not decide cases where it can serve no useful result. While a claim for compensation could have been such a result, the case was never argued in this way – as the Commonwealth duly pointed out.

Circumventing the courts

From this week’s hearings, it certainly seems that these sudden changes to policy in Nauru have dramatically weakened this constitutional challenge – if not yet the companion challenge to the constitutionality of offshore processing on Manus Island.

Yet again, it seems, the government may have successfully outmanoeuvred legal challenges by changing the law and the facts on the ground.

For the asylum seekers on Nauru, other facts on the ground remain much the same. They are still unsafe, separated from their families and unable to leave Nauru for a real life.

The Conversation

Joyce Chia, Lecturer (Sessional), Monash University and Asher Hirsch, Tutor, Monash University

This article was originally published on The Conversation. Read the original article.

Australia’s bid for the UN Human Rights Council

Sarah Joseph, Monash University

Foreign Minister Julie Bishop has announced that Australia is running for a seat on the UN Human Rights Council for the period of 2018 to 2020. The bid was originally made by the previous government, and has now been officially endorsed by this one.

What is the Human Rights Council?

The UN Human Rights Council was established in 2006 to replace the UN Commission on Human Rights, which had run from 1947 to 2006. In that time, the commission had some impressive accomplishments, including its early drafting of the Universal Declaration on Human Rights (UDHR) in 1948, and most of the core UN human rights treaties. The commission played a role in promoting and developing human rights norms, and investigating and highlighting human rights issues and crises.

However, by the time of its demise, its reputation was so clouded that its official name seemed to have become “the Discredited” Human Rights Commission. The West felt that too many countries with terrible human rights records, such as Sudan and Zimbabwe, were joining the commission (it had 53 member nations) to protect themselves from censure. In contrast, developing nations felt that the commission had become too antagonistic in its dealings with them.

A revamp was needed, so the commission was replaced by the council, which has the same normative and investigative functions and has 47 member nations. It has one major new function, the Universal Periodic Review (“UPR”), whereby the human rights record of every UN member is reviewed by the council (as well as all other “observer” nations) every four-and-a-half years.

The 47 seats are divided between the five official UN regions in the following way: Africa (13); Asia (13); Latin America and the Caribbean (8); Western Europe and Other (7); Eastern Europe (6). Australia is in the Western Europe and Other Group, known as WEOG. One-third of the council is elected every year by the UN General Assembly, and members serve three-year terms. No member may serve more than two consecutive terms. A member can also be suspended from the council upon a vote of two-thirds of the UN General Assembly: Libya was so suspended in 2011 after Muammar Gaddafi’s crackdown on Arab Spring protesters and armed dissidents.

As the council’s members are representatives of their governments rather than independent human rights experts, it is hardly surprising that the council, like the commission before it, is a highly politicised body. So is the council an improvement upon the “discredited” commission? While the UPR is capable of improvement, it has generally been praised as a jewel in the council’s crown, which clearly distinguishes it from the commission.

Nevertheless, many of the same criticisms arise as were levelled at the commission. Some of its members, now and in the past, have terrible human rights records. After all, while Libya was suspended in 2011, one may fairly ask why it was elected in the first place?

Saudi Arabia’s leadership role is currently attracting much adverse media attention. Russia, China and Cuba are routinely elected, as was the case with the commission, though they all had to sit out 2013 as they had all served two consecutive terms. It is no coincidence that 2013 was a comparatively productive year for the council. **

Human rights criteria were mooted as prerequisites for membership back when the council was created. However, the UN’s nearly 200 members could not agree on substantive criteria, as they have different views on human rights. The US, for example, wanted only “democratic nations” to be eligible, whereas a focus on the implementation of economic and social rights might have led to the exclusion of the US itself.

Procedural criteria, such as a nation’s record on ratification of human rights treaties, would have been more objective. However, such criteria may have led to the exclusion of the two most powerful countries in the world – the US and China. As it stands, members commit to the highest standards of human rights, and countries should take into account a nominee’s human rights record when voting. But both of these rules are basically unenforceable.

Nevertheless, I believe that the membership of the council has generally been better than was the case with the later years of the Commission on Human Rights. It is notable that notorious abusers such as Sri Lanka and Belarus have sought and failed to gain election, while Syria was sensibly talked out of running in 2011. The secret ballot for council elections may be a key here, as there is a chance that a UN region will lose a seat for a year if an insufficient number of its nominees are deemed acceptable enough to be elected by a majority of the UN General Assembly.

The council is also criticised for running hard against human rights abuses in some contexts, while being notably soft in others. For example, inconsistency arose in 2009 when Israel was heavily condemned over Operation Cast Lead in Gaza while Sri Lanka was effectively praised a few months later for the end of its long-running civil war despite thousands of civilian deaths.

To be fair, the 2009 Sri Lanka resolution was possibly a nadir in the council’s operations, and it has been more proactive in responding to major human crises since, such as those in Côte d’Ivoire, Libya, Syria, Mali and the Central African Republic. It has also now adopted resolutions condemning Sri Lanka and calling for war crimes investigations. However, Australia did not support the 2014 resolution, presumably as it sought continued political favour with Sri Lanka to ensure its ongoing co-operation to stop asylum seeker boats.

A global intergovernmental body focusing on human rights is important. Such a body will always be dogged by politics, but it is important to have such a forum as countries care more about what other countries think than they do about the statements of human rights experts and NGOs. The council is that global intergovernmental body, and its evolving membership represents the world of today, warts and all.

It is doubtful that the battle for universal human rights observance will be won by adopting an “us and them” mentality which excludes significant numbers of countries even running for election for the “human rights club”. It could lead to balkanised human rights discussions, and possible competing institutions within the UN. The council must be a forum where non-like-minded countries can talk to each other and cross divides (as does happen on occasion) to make important human rights decisions.

Australia and the council

Australia is seeking a three-year term from 2018. It is competing with France and Spain for two WEOG seats. Will Australia be elected?

It is impossible to predict; much water will flow under the bridge before the election in 2017. Widespread praise for the role Australia ultimately played as a Security Council member indicates a reasonable amount of goodwill towards us. Clearly, France and Spain have the advantage of being members of the European Union, meaning they likely have a solid bloc of votes locked in.

On the other hand, Australia benefits from being seen to represent a different region than the always-well-represented Europe. Australia could for example try to position itself as a champion of the Pacific nations, and we will no doubt use the eternal narrative that “we punch above our weight”. Furthermore, the EU has frankly been dysfunctional in its lobbying efforts on the council, due to its slowness in being able to pin down a position among its own members.

Australia’s own human rights record will be of relevance to nations in deciding how to vote. Australia’s upcoming second UPR on November 9 will enable us to see what their major concerns are.

Australia has significant and well-known human rights problems, for example concerning asylum seekers, onshore and offshore detention, Indigenous people, violence against women and counter-terrorism laws. Here, I will focus on issues which have the capacity to undermine Australia’s reputation for cooperation with the UN.

One concern will be the Abbott government’s hounding of Gillian Triggs, the president of Australia’s Human Rights Commission, as those attacks do not sit well with the single resolution that Australia routinely co-sponsors before the council – that concerning the importance and independence of National Human Rights Institutions. However, it is likely that the government’s open hostility towards Triggs will soften under new Prime Minister Malcolm Turnbull.

Of great concern will be Australia’s attitude to its direct engagements with UN human rights bodies. We do not have a good record of implementing the findings of the UN treaty bodies, which have found Australia to be in breach of international human rights law more than 40 times.

In March, the UN Special Rapporteur on Torture, an independent human rights expert who is appointed by and reports to the council, found that Australia’s treatment of asylum seekers contravened anti-torture standards. Then-prime minister Tony Abbott petulantly responded that Australia was “sick of being lectured to” by the UN.

Only this week, the Special Rapporteur on the human rights of migrants postponed his official trip to Australia as the government could not guarantee that he could receive information from people about the offshore detention centres without those people suffering legal reprisals under the Border Force Act.

If Australia’s reputation for non-co-operation with the UN continues to grow, its council bid could and should suffer.


Australia has a long and proud history with regard to human rights and the UN. Herbert Vere Evatt oversaw the adoption of the UDHR in 1948 as the president of the UN General Assembly. Distinguished Australians have served on the UN treaty bodies (for example, Elizabeth Evatt, Ivan Shearer and Ron McCallum) and as Special Rapporteurs (for example Philip Alston is the current Rapporteur on extreme poverty and human rights).

It is appropriate for Australia to continue that history of leadership and engagement by running for the Human Rights Council. It is a flawed body, but a necessary one.

Australia’s road to election in 2018 will however be tough. A good faith attitude to our upcoming UPR and the resultant recommendations, as well as efforts to redress our considerable human rights failings, will help in that regard.

**The sentence on Saudi Arabia was added a few minutes after posting, due to the topicality of that issue.

The Conversation

Sarah Joseph, Director, Castan Centre for Human Rights Law, Monash University

This article was originally published on The Conversation. Read the original article.