The Venice Biennale is the most prestigious recurring event in contemporary art, often described as the Olympics of the art world.

The most prestigious prize of the sprawling international exhibition is the Golden Lion for best national participation. The Golden and Silver Lions are awarded by the biennale jury, a rotating panel of international curators and critics.

On April 22, the jury announced Russia and Israel would not be considered for awards. They collectively resigned eight days later – nine days before the opening of this year’s biennale.

This moment marks the unravelling of a long-standing fiction: that art institutions can remain separate from politics.

The jury’s refusal to award prizes

No official explanation was given for the jury’s resignation, but their resignation statement said it was “in acknowledgment” of their intention statement that “this jury will refrain from considering those countries whose leaders are currently charged with crimes against humanity by the International Criminal Court”.

In practice, this would have affected Russia and Israel.

This exclusion exposes a fundamental inconsistency: if nations can take part, on what basis are they denied prizes?

The bienniale is structured around national representation. Participation confers recognition of a country’s standing within the international art world. Allowing countries to exhibit but excluding them from awards is inconsistent.

For critics of the presence of Israel and Russia, inclusion constitutes complicity. For defenders of artistic autonomy, withholding awards on geopolitical grounds undermines the claim of institutional neutrality.

The jury’s resignation suggested no coherent position was possible.

The biennale has always been political

Founded in 1895, the Venice Biennale began as a civic initiative to promote Italian art and attract tourism.

From 1907, with the introduction of national pavilions, it became an international exhibition functioning as cultural diplomacy.

Of the 100 countries that participate, 30 have a permanent exhibition space. This has included Russia since 1914 and Israel since 1952. Other countries exhibit in various venues across Venice.

Each country’s participation is represented through curated artistic production. Flags, borders and diplomatic recognition are built into the exhibition’s logic.

Such a setup produces a fundamental contradiction. The bienniale claims to operate apart from geopolitics – but it is an institution structured through state representation.

In periods of relative global stability, this contradiction could be contained. Disputes arose – over inclusion, representation or censorship – but rarely threatened the institution’s stability.

Today, that balance can no longer hold.

The war in Ukraine, conflicts in the Middle East and increasing geopolitical polarisation have made neutrality itself appear as a political position.

A loss of authority?

The involvement of the Italian government and the European Union further complicates matters.

While formally acknowledging the biennale’s autonomy, Italian officials have opposed Russia’s participation and signalled pressure through administrative scrutiny.

The European Union withdrew a €2 million grant in response to Russia’s inclusion.

These actions from the EU and from Italy make clear the Venice Biennale’s independence is limited. Reliance on external funding lets political actors exert influence by threatening to withdraw support or increasing scrutiny.

The bienniale’s jurors decide on prizes. When the basis for those decisions becomes entangled in a wider political dispute, they are placed in a difficult position. Withdrawal becomes a way of refusing to confer legitimacy through awards.

This year, the biennale will replace the jury-awarded Golden and Silver Lions with “Visitors’ Lions”, to be voted on by attendees and presented in November.

Italian cabinet minister Matteo Salvini described the change as “democratic”. He frames the shift as one that transfers authority from a select jury to visitors. This treats wider participation as a more legitimate basis for judgement.

Although such a move appears philosophical, it was the only viable option. It allows the exhibition to continue without resolving the underlying conflict. The awards will be transformed into collective choices, rather than critical judgements.

The biennale’s authority rests on its historical role as a site of judgement, where expert evaluation through juries and awards shapes contemporary art discourse.

This year, that function will be suspended, and the awards will be grounded in preference rather than critique. Does this mean the exhibition will become more open, or simply less authoritative?

The difficulty of ‘neutrality’

The jury’s resignation is not simply a breakdown of decision-making. It also exposes the flawed belief that culture can stand apart from politics, and institutions can operate independently of state influence.

This breakdown is not unique to the cultural institutions. It reflects a broader shift affecting also institutions that produce knowledge and interpretation. We have seen this story repeated at universities, research bodies and cultural organisations.

Under conditions of political conflict, these institutions are increasingly subject to pressures that make claims to neutrality more difficult to sustain.

Patrizia Biondi does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.

Some parents worry if their children only read graphic novels – or even mostly read them. A common question goes something like: how do I get my child to read something other than comics or graphic novels? But the answer might be: you don’t have to.

Graphic novel series such as Heartstopper, The Babysitters Club and Amulet fly off school library shelves. And original graphic novels such as Art Spiegelman’s Holocaust-themed Maus and To This Day, based on Shane Koyczan’s spoken-word poem, are staples of many high-school classrooms.

Rather than hindering or holding back reading skills, reading graphic novels can actually help develop them.

Reading is many things – from breaking the code to understand what you read, to reading for enjoyment and getting “hooked” by a narrative. Debates about the best way to teach reading have been going on for over 80 years. They’ve recently gained strong focus with the ability of science to examine brain function.

Research shows reading graphic novels leads to improved reading and comprehension skills for all students. And studies demonstrate that children and teenagers who read graphic novels have improved, more positive attitudes towards reading. They are more likely than children who don’t read comics and graphic novels to think of themselves as good readers.

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Millions of Australians, both children and adults, struggle with literacy.

In this series, we explore the challenges of reading in an age of smartphones and social media – and ask experts how we can become better readers.

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This is extremely important: rates of reading for pleasure among young people are on the decline in Australia and around the world, along with a decline in literacy skills.

A proven way to get young readers to both re-engage with reading for pleasure and improve their literacy is to allow – even encourage – them to engage with reading that fits their tastes and interests, linking reading to media they “already recognise as part of their cultural life”. Graphic novels are part of this solution.

The science of learning to read

In 2026, when we talk about the science of reading, our go-to evidence base comes from the National Reading Panel, a United States body set up in 1997 that reviewed more than 100,000 reading studies, held public hearings, and in 2000, published a series of reports about the best ways to learn to read.

It gave us what teaching experts call the Big 6.

The first skill is phonological awareness: understanding the different ways language can be broken down into smaller parts. The next is phonics: teaching children to read and spell by explicitly teaching students the relationships between letters or letter combinations.

These skills are often not explicitly taught after they are mastered. But the other four – fluency, vocabulary, reading comprehension and oral language – continue to be learnt over a lifetime of reading.

When a reader can successfully break the code of a text, reading in schools becomes reading to learn (rather than learning to read).

How graphic novels help reading

Young readers often live their lives in a visual culture, where information is accessed through images, videos and moving images such as film. So, it may be counterintuitive to ask readers in classrooms to work solely through static, one-dimensional texts.

Graphic novels have the potential to build reading-to-learn skills, such as fluency and (ultimately) reading comprehension.

Graphic novels also build reader engagement, which supports reading fluency. The elaborate set of codes and conventions specific to graphic novels present the reader with a sophisticated combination of reading cues, both text-based and visual.

Narrative and meaning are created in graphic novels by a complex marriage of image, text and design elements. These include speech and thought bubbles, text or narrative boxes, sound effects (typically portrayed by dynamic visual representation of onomatopoeic words, or words that replicate sound – like the BAMs and POWs of the 1960s Batman TV show), and regular and irregular panels.

High-level decoding and comprehension skills are used to process many elements of a graphic novel. They include the portrayal of facial expressions and physical posture and gestures, the illustrators’ visual style and colour palette, the physical layout of the narrative through the use of panels, break-out images, and linear and non-linear storylines.

The support provided by these visual elements means the graphic novel is increasingly the text of choice for working with many kinds of students.

This includes students with reading difficulties and those characterised as “reluctant” readers (children who can read but choose not to, or resist reading for a range of reasons not directly associated with technical literacy). Graphic novels are also suited to children learning English as a second or additional language.

The skills needed to navigate and comprehend narrative and meaning in a graphic novel are now being recognised as essential ones, in an increasingly visually dominated world.

More than gateways

Positive attitudes towards graphic novels among students and educators is a recent development. For many decades — and still, in some quarters — graphic novels suffered from negative ideas about their literary quality and moral standing, due to their association with comic books.

Class-based prejudices against comic books spilled over to infect attitudes towards the graphic novel. For many decades, they were seen at best as mere “gateway” texts to “real” literature, or means by which to introduce classics such as Shakespeare to classrooms full of unruly and uninterested teenagers.

Education professor Richard Allington’s definition of fluency describes the ability to read a text quickly, accurately and with proper expression. It has often been described as the “most neglected” reading skill with calls for it to be taught more actively in reading classrooms.

A graphic novel provides a platform where a reader can interpret meaning rapidly – often without conscious attention, yet with the capacity to deeply understand the story, and become engaged or “hooked” into reading.

As Judd Winick, author of the Hilo graphic novel series for readers aged 8 to 12, has said: “ You see the words inside the balloons above the characters? You have to read them. It’s reading.”

Robyn Cox is affiliated with Primary English Teaching Association of Australia (PETAA). I am a life member.

Judith Ridge does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.

The UK has raised its terror threat level from “substantial” to “severe”, meaning an attack within the next six months is considered highly likely. The change means the threat level is at severe for the first time in four years. It came with a warning from the Home Office of an increased threat from individuals and small groups based in the UK.

Counter-terrorism in the UK centres on a strategy known as Contest – a key part of this is the Prevent programme. The primary objective of Prevent, as the name suggests, is to stop people becoming involved in terrorism or from supporting extremist ideologies.

As such, it is designed to deliver tailored early-intervention aimed at addressing risks of radicalisation, extremism and terrorism.

In my experience as a researcher in counter-terrorism studies, I have engaged extensively with Prevent practitioners. I have gained an insight into their work, which is carried out with commitment and dedication despite constraints in funding and resources.

A Prevent referral does not imply that someone has committed, or is suspected of committing, a criminal offence. Rather, it indicates that a professional with a statutory “Prevent duty” has raised concerns about someone’s behaviour, expressions or vulnerabilities. These professionals include teachers, healthcare workers and or social workers.

Recent data illustrates the scale of the programme: between April 2024 and March 2025, 8,778 people were referred to Prevent. This is the highest figure recorded since data collection began in 2015.

Notably, a significant proportion of these referrals involve young people, with 36% (3,192 cases) concerning children aged 11 to 15. A further 1,178 cases involved those aged 16 and 17.

The criteria for referral are broad, and they can include observable changes in behaviour, expressing extremist views, or signs of vulnerability that could make someone more susceptible to being radicalised.

Referrals are assessed by a panel that often include representatives from education, social services and law enforcement. In many cases, referrals do not progress beyond this initial stage. Instead, they may be signposted to other teams, such as social services, for more support.

But where there are still concerns, individuals may be offered support through the Channel programme. This is Prevent’s primary de-radicalisation mechanism. Channel is voluntary and confidential, and referrals can come from anyone and from any context. They are often issued by the police and education sector.

The support is tailored to the specific needs in each case and may include mentoring and mental health support. Participation is voluntary, and individuals can refuse to be involved or stop participating at any point.

Stigma and polarisation

Prevent is designed to be pre-emptive – intervening before criminal activity occurs. However, this breadth is also a source of ongoing controversy.

Critics argue that it can result in referrals based on ambiguous or misinterpreted behaviour. As such it has the potential to reinforce polarisation, particularly in relation to specific groups such as Muslims. This can clearly leave people feeling stigmatised, under surveillance or unfairly judged, particularly if they believe the referral was based on cultural, religious or political misunderstandings.

The scheme also has significant structural limitations as it functions as a time-limited intervention rather than a system of ongoing monitoring. Once a case is closed, the person is not subject to continuous oversight. This means that a previous referral does not eliminate the possibility of future risk – it simply means that the threshold for intervention was not met at that time.

It is important to remember that positive stories rarely get widespread attention. Every year, thousands of people in the UK receive early support and successfully disengage from radical and extremist ideologies.

Prevent operates in a difficult space between safeguarding and security, where risk is assessed before an offence occurs. While high-profile cases can amplify perceptions of failure, they do not reflect the full picture. Most referrals do not lead to further action, and many result in early, voluntary support that helps people disengage from harmful pathways.

At the same time, concerns around ambiguity and stigma remain valid. In short, rather than seeing Prevent as a measure of guilt, it’s important to recognise its limitations and its role as an early intervention tool.

Elisa Orofino does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.

Thirteen Australian women and children linked to ISIS have reportedly been blocked from leaving Syria again, with the Syrian Foreign Ministry blaming the Australian government, saying it had “refused to receive them”.

The ministry said the group was turned back before reaching Damascus International Airport to make their way back to Australia.

Earlier this year, a larger group of women and children attempted to leave their detention camps in Kurdish-controlled northern Syria to make their way to Australia, but they, too, were turned back by Syrian authorities.

At a press conference on Thursday, Home Affairs Minister Tony Burke reiterated the government’s stance that returning women who broke the law would face arrest. He added they may be “weighing up whether they want to come back to Australia ever”.

This comes after Prime Minister Anthony Albanese said earlier this week Australia would provide “no support for repatriation and no assistance for these people”.

This is not an isolated development. Australia now appears to be moving towards an approach where repatriation is not formally undertaken, nor is it fully prevented.

Staged disengagement

At first glance, this latest case may appear to resemble an “independent return”. This means the women and children left the detention camps to try to return to Australia outside formal repatriation frameworks.

There have been rare precedents elsewhere. In the United Kingdom, Tareena Shakil famously arranged her own escape from ISIS-controlled territory in Syria and returned without government extraction. Similar cases occurred in Europe in the early years of the Syrian conflict.

But what is happening with the Australian women and children is different. They are not simply trying to escape on their own. They are attempting returns through complex and often opaque pathways, facilitated by a combination of local authorities, informal networks and pre-existing administrative processes.

Australian officials established the administrative groundwork to make these returns possible years ago when they visited detention camps (such as Al-Roj in northeastern Syria) to conduct identity checks. And in November 2022, the Albanese government conducted a one-off repatriation mission.

Now, however, the government is taking a hands-off approach until a return is already underway or inevitable. Only then is it issuing travel documents or processing individuals once they arrive.

This creates what might be described as a form of staged disengagement. The state withdraws from the politically sensitive act of “bringing people home” and instead threatens legal action if the women and children return. Any real action is deferred until the group is actually on a plane.

This approach raises a deeper question: is Australia merely outsourcing the risks and logistics of return?

Instead of managing repatriations directly, the government is placing the burden onto the women and those helping them to navigate uncertain and potentially dangerous pathways out of detention camps.

This has important consequences.

A coordinated repatriation process allows governments to control timing, gather information and prepare legal and rehabilitation responses in advance. In contrast, a fragmented and reactive return reduces visibility and limits the government’s ability to shape outcomes.

The result is a shift from proactive governance to selective engagement and prolonged inaction.

When law becomes the first response

The legal implications of this shift are significant.

When returns are unmanaged, the legal system effectively becomes the first point of state control. Rather than being one component of a broader repatriation framework, criminal law is pushed to the front of the process.

Members of the Albanese government have repeatedly stressed this fact in recent months, saying the returning women will face the “full force of the law”.

This compresses decision-making timelines and places greater weight on prosecutorial responses, often in the absence of complete evidence from conflict zones. Authorities are required to make rapid judgements about risk, culpability and prosecutions without the benefit of a structured pre-return assessment.

As a result, these ad hoc returns blur the line between policy and criminal justice. The legal system begins to absorb the functions of the government agencies that would ordinarily handle coordinated returns.

This means the law is no longer responding to policy. It is standing in for it.

Returns are happening, whether planned or not

The key takeaway is that the returns of these ISIS-linked women and children are no longer a hypothetical policy question. It is an ongoing process.

Australia’s current approach does not prevent return. Instead, it reshapes how returns occur, deflecting government responsibility.

In that sense, the issue is not simply a question of whether Australia should repatriate its citizens. It is whether a reactive, outsourced model can provide a coherent or sustainable basis for managing their returns.

Se Youn Park does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.