ROJ CAMP, Syria — Roj is an isolated, fenced detention site in the Kurdish-held northeast of Syria that shelters wives and children of Islamic State fighters. Children pedal bicycles between weathered tents in a quiet, desolate place where the humanitarian burden falls largely on the young. Save the Children estimates roughly 60 percent of the camp’s roughly 2,300 residents are children.
Nearly all inhabitants are foreign nationals from almost 60 countries. Most adults are women; many of the men who fought for ISIS were killed or detained after the group’s territorial defeat in 2019. Those captured in the last battles at Baghuz were taken by Kurdish-led forces, and their families were placed in camps such as al-Hol and Roj.
In January, shifting front lines across northeastern Syria — including the partial withdrawal of some U.S. forces and advances by Syrian government elements — created openings that allowed many militants to flee camps and prisons. Syrian authorities closed al-Hol in February, and its residents either escaped or were relocated. Kurdish officials say the unrest has coincided with a return of ISIS activity in parts of the region.
Roj, by contrast, has remained under Kurdish control. Chavare Afrin, who heads camp security, said residents in other facilities believed they would be rescued by forces aligned with the Syrian government and left en masse. She described threats against Kurdish guards and said Roj was not breached the same way as al-Hol because it sits in a Kurdish-majority area and lacks the surrounding Arab villages that helped some residents slip away elsewhere.
Among Roj detainees are several high-profile foreign women. Hoda Muthana, 31, born in New Jersey and reported to have traveled to Syria in 2014, is identified by camp authorities as one of three women they say are American. U.S. authorities later revoked her citizenship. She has described fear and desperation about her own future and that of her son, and has said she would try to help de-radicalize young people if allowed to return.
Not all women in Roj say they joined ISIS willingly. Some maintain they were trafficked, deceived, or lured to the region. Camp officials say a portion embraced the ideology and passed it to their children, while others regret coming and demand repatriation and legal process.
A group of Australian women and children briefly left Roj in February after obtaining passports, but they were stopped at a Syrian government checkpoint and returned. Mila Ibrahim, co-chair of the camp administration, said the departures had been allowed on humanitarian grounds because the travelers had documentation. One woman, speaking on legal advice without giving her name, recalled taking her children out at night and driving toward a new life, only to be halted and sent back. She described her daughter, born in the camp, gasping at the smell of a house and then being forced to explain why they had to return.
The camp relies almost entirely on aid, but assistance has been disrupted. U.S. government funding through USAID was cut last year, and fighting in February further hampered deliveries. Basic services are limited. Journalists and aid workers are granted only brief visits and are not allowed into sections authorities say hold more radicalized detainees.
Education inside Roj is informal and fragile. During a recent visit in Ramadan many women rested; others tried to home-school children without books or internet. Mothers described efforts to shield their children from extremist ideas circulating in the camp. In one ordinary moment amid extraordinary circumstances, a young girl ran out with a painting she had made that read Hello friends.
As detainees grow older, some teenage boys have been moved out of camps and into prisons alongside adult ISIS suspects. Kurdish authorities, who do not operate under an internationally recognized justice system, have for years urged countries to repatriate their citizens and provide legal processes and rehabilitation. Afrin and other camp officials say they have fulfilled a difficult, temporary duty and that the next step is for countries of origin to take responsibility.
Few Western nations have accepted large numbers of returnees. Russia, Kazakhstan and some other states repatriated substantial numbers, while many Western governments have been reluctant. The United States had relatively few citizens who joined ISIS compared with other countries, and European repatriations have ranged from a few dozen to a few hundred in nations such as France. Policies and approaches vary, and many governments label potential returnees as security risks.
Camp administrators and humanitarian groups warn of long-term humanitarian and security consequences if thousands of detainees remain in limbo. With limited de-radicalization programming, disrupted aid, and little legal infrastructure, the prospects for children raised in such camps are especially uncertain. Kurdish-run facilities have served as a stopgap for years; as control and alliances in Syria change, those running the camps say the responsibility for processing, prosecuting and reintegrating foreign nationals now rests with their countries of origin.