Terror time bomb: the race to defuse Australia's far-right threat

Australia watched in horror as an avowed white supremacist mowed down innocent worshippers at a Christchurch mosque in March 2019. That shock only heightened when it was discovered the terrorist was Australian, pointing to a previously unacknowledged potential for violent far-right extremism in the country. .

Suddenly, the threats were no longer empty. The toxicity of white supremacist and far-right groups that festered on social platforms had spilled out into violence.

Related: 'It is serious and intense': white supremacist domestic terror threat looms large in US

It was a moment that should have snapped authorities out of any delusions that white supremacists don’t pose a threat. Instead, Christchurch has only emboldened the movement, and some observers say Australian government agencies have been too slow to take steps that might prevent future violence.

Matthew Quinn is the founder and chief executive of the far-right disengagement group Exit Australia.

“I think they’re still stuck on the idea that extremism is an Islamic problem,” he says. “I think they’re going to be up for a surprise.

“They seem to think white guys are just hooligans, they don’t feel like white guys are out there planning attacks.”

Quinn’s organisation works to walk potential far-right extremists back from the steps of violence, providing support to individuals who have become submerged in white supremacist groups and are looking for a way out. It’s one of the very few organisations in Australia offering any kind of preventive or community-based intervention programs. .

Right-wing extremism now constitutes up to 40% of Asio’s counter-terrorism caseload. Warnings have also come from the Australian federal police, with commissioner Reece Kershaw warning in July of the growing threat.

In June, an Asio threat assessment sent to security professionals said far-right groups were capitalising on the pandemic to bolster recruitment and spread their beliefs.

In September, Labor’s shadow home affairs minister, Kristina Keneally, warned that Australia has not had a “serious national conversation” about far-right violence, and called for some far-right groups to be proscribed as terrorist organisations. Australia is still the only member of the Five Eyes intelligence network – which also comprises the US, UK, Canada and New Zealand – yet to add far-right groups to its terrorism watchlist.

But for all the talk of increased threats and necessary conversations, little has changed for those working on the ground, with few efforts to deradicalise young men who have veered towards violence.

“I think it’s unconscious bias, where they don’t think it can come from one of them, and I think the federal government just doesn’t see it as a problem,” Quinn says. Exit, which Quinn helped establish in 2015, claims on its website that it has “prevented more attacks than years involved across Australia”.

At times, Quinn feels like a lone battler in the fight against extremism in Australia, telling the Guardian he holds little confidence in law enforcement’s ability to understand and deal with the problem.

“It’s a bit concerning that people in those positions are actually catching up, that they are that far back. Law enforcement looked at it [Christchurch] and thought it was just one nut job. They don’t realise that one nutjob was radicalised by some extreme people.”

Lack of political appetite

Few government programs focused on counter-radicalisation are tailored specifically to right-wing extremism. Asked what steps were being taken to address the problem, the New South Wales Department of Communities and Justice and Corrective Services point to previously established programs, but do not specify any programs geared specifically to far-right groups.

The federal Department of Home Affairs also points to previously established programs, some as far back as 2013, and to the money spent on beefing up law enforcement budgets.

The Labor MP Anne Aly, an expert in counter-terrorism and counter-radicalisation, says the Coalition governments simply doesn’t have the political appetite to deal with the problem.

“At a political level, there isn’t much recognition of the threat, there are politicians on the government side who even refuse to call them the far right.”

Last week the hawkish Liberal senator Concetta Fierravanti-Wells repeated her criticism of Asio during Senate estimates for using the term “right-wing” when referring to extremism, claiming it caused “unnecessary anxiety” and had the potential to offend conservatives.

And yet, in the same hearing, Asio head Mike Burgess said: “At the same time, rightwing extremists are more organised, sophisticated, ideological and active than previous years.”

Aly points to the polarising national discourse as a reason for the lack of urgency from the government.

“100% it’s making things worse, it’s helping to normalise it, it’s helping to make it a majority view. When we have leaders speaking the same words, it becomes even more normalised, even more palatable,” Aly says.

‘There’s always going to be a bit of a lag’

Dr Debra Smith, a researcher at Victoria University focusing on violent political extremism, says any approach to the issue requires an understanding of the unique challenges posed by the groups, and the dynamics of their beliefs.

“The far right is able to adapt and grow quicker than we are able to respond to it as a society, so I think there’s always going to be a bit of a lag,” Smith says.

Smith says that dynamism also means authorities struggle to differentiate between individuals who are curious about a radical ideology and someone on the verge of violence.

“How do we identify what that looks like and separate out that person from the broader group of people who will never be interested in going down that path?” Smith says.

Quinn approaches his work from an empathetic and conversational perspective, believing that in speaking to people, he can help them leave far-right groups. He would know – he too has walked down that dangerous path.

“I’ve been in that place, that’s what helps, I can hear them out. I listen to them, have a talk to them for a couple of hours, and from there work out how they feel comfortable to move forward.”

There aren’t many ex-extremists like Quinn putting their hand up to organise and speak out, something he attributes to the stigma that comes with admitting to being an extremist in the past.

“It’s not really something you want to say, it’s not something you want to stick your hand up and say, that you were a bad person when you were younger.”

Related: US-inspired rightwing extremism an 'insidious' threat to Australia, study finds

There are international examples Australia could draw from. Countries such as the US, Germany and Sweden have had long-established deradicalisation programs directly targeted at the far right, some dating as far back as the late 1990s. In 2011, an international network called Against Violent Extremism was established by Google Ideas, and in 2013, 26 organisations across Europe formed the Europe Network of Deradicalisation.

“We have the tools to deal with this. We have the research to deal with this. We can learn from other countries,” Aly says.

The problem is not the absence of tools, but of willingness.

An effective approach would require an all-of-government approach, Smith says, with a focus on social cohesion, tailored interventions and attitudinal change.

The first attitudinal change, as Aly points out, is within government itself to see these groups for what they are: a violent threat.

“Until we get to a place where there’s full recognition of it, then we’re not really going to have a comprehensive approach to it. But it needs to start with that recognition at that political level.”

That recognition needs to happen now, Quinn says, if Australia is to prevent a Christchurch terror attack from happening on its turf.

“I got a feeling something is going down now. Like, right now. It’s really getting pretty extreme, it’s pretty insane where it is at the moment.”