Behind the barbed wire of al-Hol camp in eastern Syria, more than 27,000 people remain trapped in limbo—most of them women and children linked to the Islamic State. To aid workers and local officials, the camp is nothing less than a “ticking time bomb.”
Ordinary displaced families live side by side with hardline ISIS loyalists. In the “muhajirat” section, foreign women impose their own rules, drill children with extremist slogans, and quietly rebuild the shadow structures of the so-called caliphate. To outside observers, al-Hol resembles less a refugee camp than a miniature emirate—an ISIS state-in-waiting.
A Frontline Aid Worker
Syrian activist Aref Ali Arabo, who has worked for three years with the Kurdish Red Crescent inside the camp, has seen that danger firsthand. He recalls the moment in 2022 when an ISIS gunman killed his fellow medic during a sudden assault. “That was the hardest incident of my life here,” he said.
The violence, he explained, is evolving. “At first, it was one, or two women, attacking aid groups. Now, it’s hundreds—organized, coordinated, armed with sticks, hammers, and iron bars.”
Escalation in July
In July, al-Hol’s muhajirat sector erupted in violence. Sleeper cells linked to ISIS torched schools and attacked aid offices, forcing humanitarian workers to flee. Days later, U.S.-backed SDF forces stormed the camp, arresting two ISIS commanders who had been directing operations from inside.
For aid groups and the SDF, the episode was a stark reminder: al-Hol is less a refugee camp than a breeding ground. Children are raised on ISIS slogans, women enforce its code through fear, and every flare-up reinforces the risk that the camp is incubating the next jihadist generation.
Caliphate-in-Waiting
Once a refuge for Iraqis fleeing war, al-Hol has morphed into one of Syria’s most volatile flashpoints. Today it holds mostly women and children—the remnants of ISIS’s last stronghold in Baghouz. The camp is carved into six zones, including the notorious muhajirat sector, where foreign women still enforce the caliphate’s code with fear and violence.
For aid groups and the SDF, al-Hol is both a humanitarian emergency and a security nightmare. Children are raised on ISIS slogans; women replicate its discipline. Some residents fled ISIS but now live under its shadow again. Even as Iraqi families return and administrators move to downsize, observers warn: al-Hol is less a refugee camp than a breeding ground for the next jihadist generation.
“Mini Caliphate”
For years, the women of ISIS have been rebuilding the group in miniature, behind the barbed wire of Syria’s al-Hol camp. At the heart of their efforts is a shadow police force—al-Hisbah—a morality patrol revived in the camp’s most radical sector, the muhajirat, home to foreign women.
The rules are enforced with fists and sticks. “They’ve punished women, threatened others, and made al-Hisbah active again,” camp director Jihan Hanan told Alhurra. What she describes is a camp that has become a microcosm of the caliphate: women running the police, teenagers calling themselves the Cubs of the Caliphate, and children being indoctrinated in clandestine sharia lessons.
The danger is generational. Families continue to drill extremist dogma into their children. With no serious deradicalization programs in place, ideology seeps down like an inheritance. “Al-Hol has become a miniature ISIS,” Hanan warns.
The muhajirat wing is the epicenter. It houses women and children from 42 countries, all tied to foreign fighters who poured into Syria before the fall of Baghouz in 2019. Their presence has turned al-Hol into one of the world’s most explosive humanitarian flashpoints.
The numbers tell the story: once swollen to 73,000, the camp now holds around 27,000 people, still overwhelmingly women and children. Thousands of Iraqis have gone home under a government repatriation program—over 15,000 so far, with thousands more awaiting clearance. But many refuse to return, fearing prosecution in their homelands.
The Iraqi government is the first to actively dismantle al-Hol, announcing in August that it had begun large-scale returns. But the camp remains dangerous terrain. Aid groups say al-Hisbah women mete out punishments for those who defect, spread propaganda, and indoctrinate children. They have attacked aid workers and sabotaged relief operations. According to officials, a foreign woman commands the group, though her nationality is unknown.
“The disturbances here won’t be the last,” said Shekhmus Ahmed, head of the displacement and refugee bureau in northeast Syria. He calls the women of al-Hol the “nucleus of ISIS’s future.” International intelligence agencies agree: what festers in al-Hol today is not a localized problem—it is a threat with global reach.
The warning signs are already visible. ISIS cells remain active in Syria’s deserts and have struck minorities in Sweida and along the coast. The collapse of state order, Ahmed argues, creates fertile ground for resurgence. “The situation in Syria points to a looming security disaster,” he said. “ISIS could once again expand.”
ISIS Escalates: 149 Attacks in 2025
ISIS is clawing its way back into the spotlight. Since January, the group’s cells have carried out 149 attacks in northeastern Syria — ambushing military outposts, planting roadside bombs, and striking security positions across Deir ez-Zor, Hasakah, and Raqqa. The toll: 63 dead, including 44 SDF fighters, 10 civilians, and even one collaborator with Kurdish-led forces.
The uptick is no coincidence. Terrorism researcher Lamar Arkandi warns that “Syria is on the verge of new chaos.” She says ISIS fighters, now reinforced by foreign jihadists arriving from Libya and Algeria, have shifted tactics. Once scattered, they now operate in desert-based cells led by local commanders — nimble, disciplined, and preparing for bigger, coordinated strikes.
Their playbook is chillingly familiar. Prisons top the target list, especially those holding more than 10,000 ISIS fighters and commanders under SDF control. Arkandi says the group is also eyeing al-Hol camp, where tens of thousands of ISIS women and children are confined. Any breach could free families and rekindle the caliphate’s core networks.
The warning revives grim memories. A decade ago, ISIS stormed across Iraq and Syria, seizing Mosul and declaring its “caliphate.” Now, the same ingredients have returned: fractured security, porous borders, and a movement that thrives in chaos. Each attack in 2025 is less about immediate destruction and more about momentum – a drumbeat signaling that ISIS, far from defeated, is rehearsing for its next act.
ISIS’s Shadow Lingers in Iraq
The resurgence of ISIS in Syria is reverberating across the border into Iraq, where officials warn of mounting threats from the group’s remnants.
In December, Iraqi Foreign Minister Fuad Hussein cautioned that ISIS is “regrouping,” exploiting the collapse of the Syrian army and its abandoned weapons depots to expand control in new areas. He flagged two looming dangers: mass prison breaks and unrest at al-Hol camp — both with direct consequences for Iraq’s fragile security.
Analysts say ISIS activity inside Iraq is concentrated in the Hamrin Valley corridor south of Kirkuk, a rugged stretch long used as a hideout. “While the group cannot seize cities outright, a repeat of 2014 is not impossible if it secures regional backing,” Iraqi strategist Alaa al-Nashou told Alhurra. He stressed that the Syrian desert remains ISIS’s main hub, with operational reach across both countries.
The risk is not hypothetical. Al-Nashou warned that large-scale assaults are possible if the group finds a window free of coalition airpower. Iraqi security forces are responding with preemptive operations, targeting hideouts, tunnels, and caves. Last week, the Counterterrorism Service announced the arrest of 11 militants and the destruction of several fortified sites.
For now, ISIS may be unable to hold territory. But its persistence — and the specter of regional sponsorship — keeps alive fears of another violent surge, one Iraq cannot afford.
