​Al-Hol camp is for ISIS-affiliated families in eastern Syria. The camp is a sprawling tent city with a population much bigger than the eponymous town next to it.
Al-Hol camp is for ISIS-affiliated families in eastern Syria. The camp is a sprawling tent city with a population much bigger than the eponymous town next to it. Carol Guzy/ZUMA

In a crowded house in the Syrian city of Manbij, a leader of ISIS (Islamic State) interrogated a woman named Latifa*. The encounter occurred in March 2021, when Manbij had been taken back over from ISIS by the Western-backed, Kurdish-led Syrian Democratic Forces. But the Islamic State still had several active cells scattered around Manbij, a city of 99,000 east of Aleppo, where the ISIS leader wanted to speak Latifa after the death of her husband, an ISIS operative.

The details come from the story of the arrest and trial of another woman associated with ISIS, one of many instances of radicalized women only now coming to light. How did ISIS interact with women, in various forms during its rule, and even after its defeat and transformation into smaller cells that now actively operate separately.

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The 2021 interrogation took place in a house near the city center with no sign that the house was affiliated with ISIS. There was a room with a large television and two women and three men. “All of them were masked, and I don’t know any of them except one woman,” Latifa said during her trial in Syria. “I was blindfolded and brought into another room.”

There were several people in the room, who interrogated her about her activities: “From the date of my husband’s death until the day I sat before Sheikh Saif, they asked me to explain everything and not to neglect any detail, even if it was small, especially about the people I met from the group’s women.”

Over the course of several months, Latifa refused to communicate with the author of this article. However, after mediation by one of her own clan and her verification of the author’s identity, she agreed to share her story and those of other ISIS women whom she calls “prisoners without walls.”

Peak ISIS

On April 9, 2013, the leader of the Islamic State in Iraq and the Levant at the time, Abu Bakr al-Baghdadi, announced the extension of the areas of control of his “state” between Iraq and the Levant. He dismantled the Nusra Front faction, which was a branch of the structure of the Islamic State of Iraq.

After the announcement, the group’s controlled areas expanded in both Syria and Iraq to reach an estimated 40,000 square kilometers at its peak. In this territory, the group imposed a strict rule, including killing, kidnapping and brutal violence. Many women were victims of these crimes.

The group quickly established its own administrative structures and infrastructure. Though there were no official statistics on the number of residents who lived in areas under ISIS control, the group managed to establish a societal base, which included those affiliated with it around the world, and those who lived in its areas.

Women formed a crucial part of that social structure, consisting mostly of either wives of ISIS members or women who joined the group for ideological reasons.

The Messenger

We first heard about Latifa while documenting testimony of another detainee in a prison run by a faction of the opposition Syrian National Army. That detainee was accused of joining and working with the group in opposition-controlled areas north of Aleppo.

In his testimony, the detainee revealed that there were women moving between the cities of Manbij, al-Bab, Jaeabulus in the province of Aleppo to receive and distribute money to the group’s families scattered in areas controlled by the Syrian Democratic Forces, the Syrian National Army and the Syrian regime.

The detainee didn’t know the women’s identities, but he managed to identify their hometowns through their dialects, and their inquiries about other ISIS fighters. So he knew that Latifa was the widow of a fighter killed in a bombing by the Syrian regime in the city of Mayadeen in Deir al-Zor province in Oct. 2017 when the city was controlled by ISIS.

The sources of ISIS financing were numerous; on top of them were the oil fields that it controlled between Syria and Iraq. There was also money from antiquities trafficking, as well as taxes imposed on the local population and on goods entering and leaving areas of its control and ransoms in exchange for hostages.

The group had also received donations from supporters abroad. A report by David Cohen, Assistant Secretary of the U.S. Treasury said the group had received tens of millions of dollars monthly in donations.

An ISIS leader, Abu Saad Al-Ansari in 2015, said in a Friday sermon in the Iraqi city of Mosul that the group’s budget was estimated at 0 million.

Latifa was assigned to receive money transfers and distribute them to “the widows of the Islamic State and the injured,” she said.

A woman is seen walking with her child in Al-hol camp.
A woman is seen walking with her child in Al-hol camp. – Carol Guzy/ZUMA

Latifa story from the start

Latifa’s story begins after her husband was killed. When she was 19, she lived in one of the guest houses designated for the group’s women whose husbands were killed.

She later moved to her family’s home and lived a normal life. She was not arrested by any military agency, and no one knew anything about her.

In late 2019, an unknown phone number appeared on her phone screen. The caller told her that her husband left a “will,” and she had to come to Manbij to receive it by hand in accordance with Islamic Sharia.

“I thought the will was money and I needed it, so I agreed and went to meet him,” she said.

The anonymous person told her about the necessity of patience and that ISIS had not forgotten any of the widows of the “brothers,” and that the group had gone through difficult times but still existed.

“And you, Latifa, after watching you,” she recalled the person telling her, “we found that you are not under surveillance and not wanted by any military party in the areas controlled by the Kurds and apostates.”

Latifa had no choice but to accept, as she says, and her mission at first was to work as a messenger.

She began delivering handwritten messages from cell to cell within the group in areas controlled by the Syrian Democratic Forces and the Syrian opposition. She also distributed money to the needy among the wounded members of the group, and their families.

“I agreed without hesitation. The state (ISIS) has not forgotten us, and it is a very good thing for those poor families of the members who are in dire need of money,” she said.

ISIS still alive

In March 2019, the Syrian Democratic Forces, with the support of the U.S.-led international coalition, took control of the town of Al-Baghouz in Deir al-Zor province in eastern Syria. It was the last stronghold of ISIS.

The group’s name began to recede from the international media after that “ geo-physical victory,” which America achieved in both Syria and Iraq. But the group changed its military policy and began to secretly operate in pockets such as the Syrian desert.

After its loss of territory, the group reconstructed its financial and social networks in a way that has enabled it to continue its activities, including assassinations, bombings, and theft. It resorted to its trusted members, including wives and widows of its fighters to regroup.

Latifa is one of those trusted women.

In her first year as a messenger, the group purchased many mobile phones and issued many ID cards for her to facilitate her communications and movements.

It was “as the (Islamic) State still controls everything,” she said of her first year. “I was able to move between the areas controlled by the Kurds (the Syrian Democratic Forces) and the Free (Syrian Army of the Syrian opposition) without any obstacle.”

She said many ISIS members helped her. “I only saw each person one time. I wear the niqab, so none of them knew me and I didn’t know any of them. My relationship is only with the Emir, who gives me orders via the Telegram application,” she said.

Handwritten letters

Latifa was receiving handwritten letters from a specific geographical point and delivering them to another geographical point. “Every time the mail is received or given to me by a different person,” she said.

She also received money that varies from month to month to deliver them to a list of families. The list included basic information about the families, like its members, where they live, the name of the wounded/ dead fighter, when he joined the group, when he was wounded/killed, and when he was detained, according to a list reviewed by Daraj.

“In the beginning, my work was limited to distribution only, without any conversation taking place between me and the family or the injured person,” she said, “but over time, there were specific questions from the Emir responsible for me to some families about the identity of the person who visited them on that day, and other questions.”

Such questions and inquiries were developed by time to include personal matters, like advising one of the “sisters” to marry someone from the group who had recently been released from prison, Latifa said.

“ISIS did not force any female to marry a specific person, but rather suggested to them and tried to place them within the options of marrying only members of the group or a supporter,” she said, recalling that one time she was asked to ask a woman about her new husband’s opinion of the Islamic State because “he might influence the thoughts of the deceased brother’s children.”

​Civilians, many injured and weak, walk past the ancient al-Nuri Mosque destroyed by ISIS as they flee battle.
Civilians, many injured and weak, walk past the ancient al-Nuri Mosque destroyed by ISIS as they flee battle. – Carol Guzy/ZUMA

How ISIS generated funds?

Latifa did not know exactly where the money came from. Such a question could be risky and she could be punished by the Emir, who himself was changed every six months. She received between 0,000 and 0,000 monthly to distribute to families of the group’s fighters. Some of such funds were used to finance the group’s activities including assassinations. Such funds were allocated for the province of Aleppo, according to documents reviewed by Daraj.

Saad al-Share’a, a researcher specializing in jihadist groups in Syria, said the group did not rely entirely on the economic boom it enjoyed when it took control of oil fields and refineries in both Syria and Iraq, but rather “it continued to finance itself through traditional methods such as invasions, royalties, and donations.”

He said the group also invested oil revenues in commercial projects that generated stable profits.

He said the group has always taken care not only of its fighters, but also their families even after this fighter was killed, wounded or detained.

Such relationships between the group and the families continued through religious or social meetings, he said, so it was easy for ISIS to regroup its fighters, or the second generation for political and military purposes.

ISIS after October 7

This can be seen through tracking the group’s activities in both Syria and Iraq, especially intensifying its attacks since the Hamas-Israel war began on Oct. 7.

The group has benefited from the political unrest in the region to try to resurface. And through funding and caring about the fighters’ women and children, it will be easy for it to launch whenever it wants, according to al-Shara’i.

Aisha is another widow who said she and other women were fed up with the group’s restrictions, but had no trustworthy party to whom to turn.

According to Aisha, a woman complained to the police branch in the area where she lives about ISIS threats. When the group knew about the complaint, she was interrogated by both the military and ISIS.

Some women were forced to work as “double agents”

According to women interviewed by Daraj, some women were forced to work as “double agents” for the military and ISIS.

Latifa was summoned to a meeting in a house in the center of the city of Manbij, east of Aleppo. The meeting turned out to be an interrogation, not a typical meeting with ISIS leaders. She recalled that interrogators checked contacts on her mobile phone, asked about their relations. She was asked about families she delivered money to, and those in charge of her from the group.

“They checked with me if I still remembered the features or even the fake names of the people,” she recalled, “as if they wanted to make sure that I was not interested in collecting information about anyone.”

Latifa and other women had to provide monthly reports about the lives of the fighters’ widows and their wives: with whom they communicate and about their “religious character,” she said.

“The more the female is alone and shunned by her family, the easier it is for the group’s members to control her,” Aisha told Daraj in a joint conversation on WhatsApp that also included Latifa. “ISIS is responsible for renting a house for those who do not have a breadwinner, and paying a monthly salary called “sponsorship,” as well as the expenses of treatment for women or children who are sick.”

She said that sometimes several families lived in shared homes known as “guest houses.” Women were monitoring each other’s behavior and informing those who are responsible for them, Aisha said.

Under their eyes

Mona Freij, a rights activist, campaigned against ISIS in 2014, prompting the group to raid her house in the Syrian city of Raqqa. She has for over a decade followed the group’s women.

It’s unfair to lump all of the group’s women in one category without looking into their cases

“It’s unfair to lump all of the group’s women in one category without looking into their cases, psychological, legal and social status,” she said. “This causes extremism to increase.”

Freij said that isolating the group’s women and not providing them the needed protection from many military agencies that control and exploit them has increased the division between these women and their families. ISIS exploits such conditions, she said.

“Local communities and authorities should integrate these women. Otherwise, we will face a repetition of stories like the stories of Aisha and Latifa,” she said.

The group has already tried to recruit other women, especially those who did not have any breadwinners. “The goal of all of this was for us to remain under their eyes,” Aisha said.

The majority of ISIS women are held in al-Hawl camp, in the countryside of Al-Hasakah province, northeastern Syria. But there are no reliable figures on how many ISIS women are in both Syria and Iraq.

Ultimate protection

Latifa and Aisha’s testimonies also expanded into the personal sphere, giving a glimpse of how they live and think as women.

Don’t I have the right to be jealous of my husband? He wants to marry another woman and tells me this as if he wants to buy a car,” Aisha said. “If I speak about what comes to my mind, they say that I object to God’s ruling…”

She said the majority of the group’s women were married against their will. “Even after the death of their husbands and the disappearance of the group, their decisions and their lives remained in the community. We are prisoners walking in the streets.”

After her long speech, Aisha tried to catch her breath, before declaring that “despite (her) hatred for the group, I will not lie, there is one good thing that I know that there is someone protecting me. Even as a joke, if I told anyone from the group that there is someone harassing me because I am the widow of one of the group’s members. This person (the harasser) will be beaten or even killed.”

But, she wonders: “Why can’t we live protected but also be treated differently?”

Editor’s note:

_Names of the interviewees were changed, and some dates were changed for their safety.

_The documents on which the investigation was based are reviewed and verified by the Syrian Network for Human Rights.

Translated and Adapted by: