Source: The Conversation (Au and NZ)
lange x/Pexels I don’t have a country. I am trying to find a country to belong to. Hassan* speaks softly. We sit on the floor of the modest home he rents with his wife Noor* and children as he tells me about fleeing Myanmar over a decade ago.
We have no country, because I am Rohingya. We are born in Burma but we have no documents. No citizenship, no birth registration. No nothing. Hassan is one of the many stateless people I spoke to while researching statelessness in Australia.
Published today, the report, co authored by Michelle Foster, Amelia Walters and I, reveals Hassan is not alone. Far from finding security since arriving in Australia, thousands of people in his situation continue to live in a state of legal limbo – with devastating consequences.
What does it mean to be stateless? To be stateless means no country in the world recognises you as legally belonging. Lack of nationality can negatively shape every aspect of a person’s life. Stateless people can struggle to access the most basic human rights, such as education, health care, and the ability to work and move freely.
The impacts on children can be especially debilitating, robbing them of their childhood and the chance to build a future. Millions of people are estimated to be denied a nationality globally; one third are believed to be children.
Due to different citizenship laws around the world, some people are born into statelessness, while others become stateless, usually due to discrimination. Our new report, Understanding Statelessness in Australia, is based on analysis of more than 800 decisions by tribunals and courts, and almost 100 interviews with stateless people, lawyers, health workers, policy experts and community workers.
We found Australia is failing to identity and adequately protect stateless people. It doesn’t have to be this way. Australia can follow the example of the United Kingdom, France and the Netherlands and establish a framework to allow people to resettle within a reasonable timeframe and with dignity.
For instance, the UK introduced a formal “statelessness determination procedure” in 2013, after a similar national study on the issue. This procedure provides a framework for recognising a person’s statelessness status, allowing them to acquire residence and socioeconomic rights, with a pathway to naturalisation.
Although far from perfect, it shows other countries have recognised the importance of the issue. Australia, meanwhile, is lagging behind. A state of uncertainty Following the second world war, many stateless people came to Australia.
They worked hard, built homes and families, and became valued members of the community. But today’s stateless arrivals are treated very differently. For years they live in a state of uncertainty. Hassan and Noor began life in Australia behind bars, with their children unable to attend school for months at a time.
Immigration detention was the only home their third child knew for the first 16 months of his life. Eventually the family was released into community detention and then placed on a series of endless, rolling short-term visas.
This presented problems, particularly for Noor, who has a chronic health condition. Hassan explained how: Every time the bridging visa would expire, our Medicare card would expire […] Sometimes every three months, sometimes every six months.
The constantly expiring visas made it hard for my wife to get medical treatment when she needed it. Thousands of stateless people live legally in Australia, but with no pathway to permanency. They can’t be returned to the country they came from as they are not recognised as belonging.
Despite signing up to key international obligations to protect stateless people, Australia is largely ignoring their plight while they languish in a state of legal limbo. Another young woman, Nur, told me she recently finished high school but has been unable to study medicine because of visa restrictions.
She is also prohibited from working, saying: I want to be useful and do something with my time. I tried volunteering for a large charity, but I couldn’t get a police check because I don’t have enough documents.
Many stateless people in Australia like Nur are unable to build lives in Australia, despite residing here for more than a decade.
Amir is a Kurdish man who was detained and subjected to short-term visas for more than a decade but then was given a special form of permanent visa in recognition of his sporting abilities, and went on to captain the Australian blind football team on the global stage.
Yet he worries for others, saying: Within my community in Australia, I see so many stateless people who haven’t been given visas […] Everyone needs a clear pathway and plan; some form of certainty. When you are stateless, you’ve always been uncertain about your life […] Uncertainty makes you feel unwell.
There has to be a cut-off. We must say, “OK, these people have suffered for 10–15 years. Enough is enough.” […] Give them a visa so they can get on with their life. Very real consequences Legislative gaps and bureaucratic delays have very real human consequences.
After 14 years of waiting to become a citizen, Hassan says the limited hope he has left is for his children: I’m tired of trying to understand what is happening. I just want to go to work, support my family and come home.
I want a simple life. I am old now, and I am still not a citizen […] My time is finished now, I only care about my children. The future is about my children. *Names changed to protect identity
Katie Robertson works for the Peter McMullin Centre on Statelessness (Melbourne Law School).
Her work has been funded by philanthropic funding from the Cameron Foundation, Mallesons and Igniting Change. She received a grant from the Churchill Foundation in 2022 for a Fellowship, and a small grant in 2023 to attend a conference from the Victoria Law Foundation.
Original source: https://analysis1.mil-osi.com/2026/06/18/thousands-of-stateless-people-live-in-limbo-due-to-gaps-in-australias-system-report/