Last week’s publication in the Guardian of over 2000 files from Nauru, a small Pacific island nation that accepts asylum seekers who try to come to Australia, is another crack in the Australian asylum model. The leak confirms previous reports about conditions on Nauru: vulnerable men, women and children exposed to violence, abuse and inhuman conditions for years on end.



It shines a light on some dark corners of Australia’s asylum policies, which are also carried out in other countries by private companies. These policies on the other side of the world are important to Europe because politicians have called the Australian model a success and put it forward as a solution to Europe’s current crisis.

Here’s an outline of Australia’s asylum model to put the leaks from Nauru in context, and three reasons why we may be seeing the end of the offshore regime.

From the ‘Pacific Solution’ to today

Australia’s cooperation with Nauru dates back to the Tampa incident in 2001. In August of that year, the Norwegian freight ship Tampa rescued 438 asylum seekers on their way Australia. The government refused to allow the ship to dock, requesting it return them to Indonesia.

Australia asked Nauru, a former protectorate, to accept the asylum seekers, triggering the “Pacific Solution”. At the time, Nauru was not a signatory to the refugee convention. Under this policy, which lasted until 2008, asylum seekers bound for Australia were intercepted and detained on Nauru, or another Pacific country, Papua New Guinea, while their protection claims were processed.

In 2012, Australia reopened detention centres in Nauru and on Papua New Guinea’s Manus Island as a “circuit-breaker” to stop relatively high number of asylum seekers arriving by boat and the accompanying deaths at sea. By this time, Nauru had signed the refugee convention.

However, these offshore arrangements became permanent pillars of Australia’s asylum policy, one based on deterring future asylum seekers through turning back boats and detention offshore. Under this policy, at least 28 boats have been turned back since 2013.

When boats carrying asylum seekers cannot be turned back, Australia intercepts asylum seekers at sea and transfers them to Nauru and Papua New Guinea under bilateral agreements with both countries. Asylum seekers have been held in closed immigration detention for indefinite periods, though it is important to note that since October 2015 Nauru has operated as an open centre.

Context to the Nauru files

Even before the release of the Nauru files, significant evidence of human rights concerns had been reported in both offshore centres. Last year the UN Committee Against Torture reported conditions of “overcrowding, inadequate health care; and ill-treatment” in Nauru and a report commissioned by the Australian government found evidence of sexual assault of asylum seekers in detention. Earlier this year, two refugees self-immolated in protest. In Papua New Guinea, there have been repeated demonstrations and rioting among the 900 all-male asylum seekers. In 2014, two staff at the detention centre murdered an asylum seeker during one such protest.

Secrecy is a large part of Australia’s model. Operations that occur on the high seas or Australia’s territorial waters are confidential. Nauru introduced a non-refundable visa fee for journalists of $8,000 dollars in 2014 and regularly refuses visa applications to foreign journalists. As a result, just two journalists have visited the detention centre in the past four years.

Against this backdrop, the Nauru files can best be understood as another blow to the Australian offshore regime. The Australian government has repeatedly stated that while it will not tolerate abuse in detention, what occurs in Nauru is out of Australia’s control.

The beginning of the end?

There are three factors that suggest Australia’s offshore asylum model faces an existential threat: legal challenges; practical problems; and the question of responsibility.

Firstly, the offshore regime is under legal pressure. As well as international criticism from UN human rights bodies, earlier this year the supreme court of Papua New Guinea found the detention of asylum seekers an unconstitutional violation of the right to liberty. The court ordered both Australia and Papua New Guinea to “take all steps necessary to cease and prevent the continued unconstitutional and illegal detention.” The Papua New Guinean government is currently working to find appropriate arrangements in accordance with this ruling. A second legal challenge to the Manus detention regime is currently underway.

Secondly, the current policy appears fundamentally unsustainable from a practical perspective. Neither Papua New Guinea nor Nauru can provide durable solutions to those asylum seekers found to be refugees. Under the bilateral agreements, refugees are in theory allowed to remain in these countries permanently. However, Papua New Guinea has already declared itself unable to resettle refugees on its territory. Those found to be refugees in Nauru are allowed to live in the community on five-year visas.

In September 2014, Australia and Cambodia signed a $55m deal to settle refugees from Nauru. The deal has delivered little: just five people have been settled in Cambodia, of which four subsequently chose to return to their countries of origin. This leaves unanswered the question of what to with refugees left in Nauru and Papua New Guinea for years.

Finally, the Nauru files highlight Australian responsibility for what happens offshore. Though the Australian the government denies jurisdiction over the detention centres in Papua New Guinea and Nauru, its indirect responsibility is increasingly clear. Australia instigated the opening of the centres, selected the contractors that run them, provide all funding, and choose who is transferred there. Hiding behind the sovereignty of another state is becoming increasingly untenable.

These three factors, together with the realities portrayed in the Nauru files, should make it quite clear to European politicians that the “Australian Solution” is no solution at all.

Nikolas Feith Tan is a PhD fellow for the Danish Institute for Human Rights and advisor at the Danish Refugee Council.