In a sweeping crackdown that unfolded over just four days, New South Wales (NSW) Police charged 752 individuals with domestic violence offenses, laying bare the persistent and deeply rooted crisis of intimate partner violence in Australia. The operation, which concluded on Sunday, November 16, 2025, resulted in 1,629 charges, 1,464 bail checks, and an astonishing 13,369 apprehended domestic violence order checks, according to an official police statement released Monday. The effort, part of Operation Amarok, also uncovered 395 breaches of court orders, underscoring the ongoing challenges authorities face in protecting vulnerable individuals.
But behind these numbers are the stories—some harrowing, some hopeful—of survivors fighting for safety and dignity. For many, especially immigrant women, the journey to escape abuse is fraught with additional hurdles, from language barriers and social isolation to the ever-present fear of deportation.
According to KFF Health News, one immigrant woman from India recounted a terrifying ordeal: years of abuse at the hands of her husband and his family, including beatings, scalding, and threats with a knife. "Several times I tried to escape, but they found me and brought me back home," she said, speaking anonymously due to concerns about her immigration status. In July 2020, with no time to run, she called 911 despite knowing it could risk her deportation. Police arrived to find her husband menacing her with a knife in front of their young children. He was arrested, but, as she recalled, not prosecuted.
The woman and her children eventually sought help from the Tahirih Justice Center, a national nonprofit that supports immigrant survivors of gender-based violence. Her story is far from unique. As the Sydney Morning Herald reported, one in four women in Australia has experienced violence from an intimate partner since the age of 15. The social and economic costs of such violence are staggering, estimated at $26 billion annually.
NSW Police Minister Yasmin Catley emphasized the importance of Operation Amarok, stating, "With more than 150,000 calls for help every single year, police understand the urgency and the heartbreak of this crisis. Their commitment is unwavering, and they will continue to do everything in their power to keep victims safe." Assistant Commissioner Peter McKenna echoed this sentiment, describing domestic and family violence as "unacceptable" and with "no place in our communities."
Yet, for immigrant survivors, the road to justice and healing is often more complicated. According to a 2024 study cited by KFF Health News, immigrants who have experienced domestic abuse face disproportionately high rates of post-traumatic stress disorder, depression, suicide, and anxiety. Nicole E. Warren, a nurse midwife and associate professor at the Johns Hopkins School of Nursing, observed, "Personally, I know anxiety related to the current political climate is precipitating expensive emergency room visits and negatively impacting people’s ability to get to work and make a living."
Fear of deportation is a powerful deterrent. Miriam Camero, director of client advocacy and social services at the Tahirih Justice Center, noted that some clients have avoided seeking medical care during pregnancy out of fear of encountering Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE). Food banks have reported that many immigrants in need of assistance have stopped coming for help, worried they’ll be targeted by authorities.
The Trump administration’s aggressive stance on illegal immigration has only intensified these fears. In more than half of U.S. states, ICE can formally collaborate with local law enforcement, a practice that, according to Maricarmen Garza, chief counsel of the American Bar Association Commission on Domestic & Sexual Violence, "can interfere with victims’ efforts to get a certificate to file for a ‘U visa.’" The U visa offers a path for victims of certain crimes, including domestic violence, to live and work in the U.S. with the possibility of lawful permanent residency. But the process is grueling. The Indian survivor described the anxiety she felt filing five abuse reports over two years, saying, "I got panic attacks just writing them down, because it meant I was reliving the situations again."
When asked about the difficulties faced by immigrant victims, White House spokesperson Abigail Jackson responded, "The president’s successful effort to deport criminal illegal aliens is making all victims safer and ensuring they will never again be harmed by dangerous criminal illegal aliens." She dismissed claims that immigrants have been pressured to drop charges as "allegations without evidence."
Advocates argue that immigrant women without legal status are particularly vulnerable, facing exploitation due to language barriers and social isolation. A 2023 report found that lifetime rates of abuse by intimate partners can reach up to 93% in some immigrant groups, compared to about 41% for U.S.-born women. Proving abuse to authorities is another challenge, especially as the system becomes more stringent. At Johns Hopkins in Baltimore, a refugee health and asylum program now finds its written affidavits are often insufficient—"Now, we are getting requests for our in-person testimony," Warren explained.
The backlog for U visas is immense. As of June 2025, U.S. Citizenship and Immigration Services reported nearly 11.6 million pending visa applications, including 415,000 U visa cases. With only about 10,000 U visas issued annually, some survivors face waits of more than seven years, according to Garza.
Meanwhile, policy changes have further limited access to assistance. As of September, undocumented immigrants are no longer eligible for Section 8 housing support, leaving many, like the Indian survivor, at risk of homelessness. "If Tahirih wasn’t behind me, I could be homeless," she said, noting she could afford only half her rent. The Tahirih center reported a 200% increase in call volume in the four months after President Trump took office, overwhelming staff and resources. "At the end of the day there are a lot of emails and a lot of people we aren’t able to reach as quickly as in the past," said Casey Carter Swegman, the center’s director of public policy.
Some organizations have responded by returning to grassroots outreach, connecting with hairdressers and small-business owners who may be the first to notice signs of abuse. Joanna Otero-Cruz, executive director of the Philadelphia group Women Against Abuse, said, "They’re the eyes and ears for us."
For those who do manage to escape, the path forward is rarely easy. The Indian survivor, now a certified nursing assistant thanks to a temporary work permit received in 2024, reflected, "I have really come a long way. It wasn’t easy. I had great support behind me. They didn’t let me down."
Back in NSW, the state government has taken legislative action, introducing a standard non-parole period of 25 years for the murder of a current or former intimate partner as of October 2025. But as 59 people—42 of them women—have been killed by intimate partners in NSW over the past five years, the need for comprehensive solutions remains urgent.
While the recent police operation demonstrates a renewed commitment to tackling domestic violence, the stories of survivors—especially those navigating the labyrinth of immigration and legal challenges—remind us that the fight for safety and justice is far from over.
