Kurds fear the resurgence of the Islamic State group in Syria.

As the new Syria struggles to take shape, old threats are re-emerging.

The chaos since the ouster of Bashar al-Assad is “paving the way” for a comeback by the so-called Islamic State (IS), according to a top Kurdish commander who helped defeat the jihadist group in Syria in 2019. . The return has already begun.

“ISIS Activity [IS] According to General Mazloum Abdi, the commander of the Syrian Democratic Forces (SDF), a predominantly US-backed Kurdish militia coalition, has increased significantly, and the risk of a resurgence has doubled. “They now have more capabilities and more opportunities.”

According to intelligence reports, IS militants have captured some weapons and ammunition left behind by Syrian government forces, he said.

And he warned that there was “a real risk” that the militants would try to infiltrate SDF-run prisons here in northeastern Syria, where about 10,000 of their men are held. The SDF has also kept 50,000 of its family members in camps.

Our interview with the General was late at night, at a location we cannot disclose.

He welcomed the end of the Assad regime – which had detained him four times. But he looked weary and admitted disappointment at the prospect of fighting old battles again.

“We fought against them. [IS] And cost 12,000 lives,” he said, referring to SDF losses. “I think at some level we’re going to have to go back to where we were before.”

They say the risk of an IS resurgence has increased, as the SDF comes under increasing attacks from neighboring Turkey – and rebel factions it supports – and has drawn some fighters to the battle. Should be diverted. He tells us that the SDF has had to halt counter-terror operations against IS, and hundreds of prison guards – out of thousands – have returned home to defend their villages.

Ankara sees the SDF as an extension of the PKK – outlawed Kurdish separatists who have rebelled for decades, and are designated as terrorists by the United States and the European Union. He has long sought a 30-kilometer “buffer zone” in Kurdish territory in northeastern Syria. Since the fall of Assad, there has been a greater push to achieve this.

“The first threat now is Turkey because its airstrikes are killing our forces,” General Abdi said. “These attacks must stop, because they are distracting us from focusing on the security of detention centers,” he said, “although we will always do our best.”

Inside Alsina, the largest prison for IS prisoners, we saw the layers of security and felt the tension between the staff.

The former academy in the city of al-Hasakah houses about 5,000 men who are suspected fighters or IS supporters.

Each cell door is locked and secured with three bolts. Corridors are divided into sections by heavy iron gates. Guards are masked, batons in hand. Access here is rare.

We were allowed a glimpse inside two of the cells but could not speak to the men inside. They were told that we were journalists and were given the option to remain silent. Very few did. Most sat quietly on blankets and thin mattresses. The two men moved towards the floor.

Kurdish security sources say that most of the prisoners in al-Sina were with IS until its last stand and were deeply committed to its ideology.

We were taken to meet a 28-year-old detainee – thin and soft-spoken – who did not want to be named. He said he was speaking freely, though he would not say much on important issues.

He told us that he left his native Australia at the age of 19 to visit his grandmother in Cyprus.

“From there, one thing led to another,” he said. And I reached Aleppo. He claimed he was working with an NGO in Raqqa city when IS took over.

I asked if he has blood on his hands and is he involved in killing someone? “No, I wasn’t,” he replied with a barely audible voice.

And did he support what IS was doing? “I don’t want to answer that question because it might affect my case,” he replied.

He hopes to return to Australia one day, although he’s not sure he’ll be welcome.

Even behind the wire at Rose Camp – about three hours away – there is hope that freedom is coming. One way or another.

This dark sprawl of tents – surrounded by walls, fences and watchtowers – is home to around 3,000 women and children. They have never been tried or convicted but are families of IS fighters and supporters.

There are many British women in the camp. We met three of them briefly. All said they had been told by their lawyers not to talk.

In one corner of the storm we met a woman who was willing to talk – Seyda Tamerbulatova, 47, a former tax inspector from Dagestan. His nine-year-old son Ali stood silently by his side. She hopes that Assad’s overthrow will mean freedom for both of them.

“The new leader Ahmed al-Shara [the head of the Islamist group Hayat Tahrir al-Sham] Made a speech, said he would give everyone their freedom. We also want freedom. We most likely want to leave for Russia. This is the only country that will take us.”

The camp manager tells us that others believe that IS will come to their rescue and finish them off. He asked us not to use his name because he fears for his safety.

“Since the fall of Assad, the camp has been quiet. Usually, when it’s quiet, it means women are organizing themselves.” “They have packed their bags to leave. They say: ‘We will leave this camp soon and renew ourselves. We will come back as IS.'”

She says there is a marked change, even among children, who shout slogans and swear at passers-by. “They say: ‘We’ll come back and get you. [IS] Coming soon.”

During our time at camp many children raised their right index finger. The gesture is used by all Muslims in daily prayers, but is also widely used by IS militants in propaganda images.

Women aren’t the only ones packing their bags at Rose Camp.

Some Kurdish civilians in the city of al-Hasakah are doing the same – fearing a return of the jihadists and another ground operation by Turkey in northeastern Syria.

Jeon, 24, who teaches English, is getting ready to leave – reluctantly.

“I’ve packed my bag, and I’m preparing my ID and my important papers,” he tells me. “I don’t want to leave my home and my memories, but we all live in constant fear. The Turks are threatening us, and the door is open to IS. They can attack our prisons. They are some They can do it if they want.”

Jiwan had previously been displaced from the northwestern city of Aleppo in 2011 at the start of the Syrian civil war. He is wondering where to go this time.

“The situation calls for urgent international intervention to protect civilians,” he says. I ask if he thinks it will come. “No,” he replied softly. But he asks me to mention his request.

Additional reporting by Michael Steininger and Matthew Goddard