In Bankstown, a tiny prayer space surrounded by falafel stalls and bargain stores subtly turned into the center of a national security crisis. Wissam Haddad never presided over Friday prayers in a large mosque, but his voice was heard incredibly far—via speeches, vans, street corners, and now through court cases and investigative findings.
ASIO has been continuously monitoring Haddad for over 10 years, not because of his direct actions but rather because of the purported inspiration he has given off. Intelligence officials have expressed concern over his incisive, cryptic, and conviction-driven statements, especially since his name keeps coming up as the country laments yet another act of terrorist violence.
Fifteen people were killed when two individuals opened fire at a lighted Hanukkah celebration on Bondi Beach. It was an instantaneous and deadly onslaught. Once more, connections to Haddad’s influence emerged in the aftermath. As a teenager, Naveed Akram, one of the gunmen, had been captivated by Haddad’s lectures. A distinct pattern became apparent from recordings and social media posts: Akram had taken in and repeated ideological cues that were remarkably comparable to those that were previously taught at the Al Madina Dawah Center.
Using youth-led da’wah initiatives and street outreach, Haddad created what some officials have called a “echo chamber of certainty.” The now-defunct Dawah Van program, which was frequently spotted close to campuses and commercial centers, seemed welcoming—providing literature, free Qurans, and discussion. Beneath the surface, however, it conveyed a more inflexible message: disbelieve in Western governance, reject secularism, and get ready for a heavenly conflict.
Wissam Haddad – Profile Summary
| Name | Wissam Haddad (aka Abu Ousayd) |
|---|---|
| Role | Muslim preacher, head of Al Madina Dawah Centre |
| Notable Activity | Linked to radical street preaching and Dawah Van group |
| ASIO Attention | Under surveillance for over a decade |
| Legal Status | Never charged with terrorism; found in breach of RDA |
| Federal Court Case | Wertheim v Haddad, July 2025, antisemitic content |
| Influence Network | Connected to several convicted extremists including Naveed Akram and Youssef Uweinat |
| Public Response | Widely criticized for inflammatory sermons |
| Source Link | The Guardian |
In 2019, I saw one of these vans close to Parramatta Station. The sight of two young men courteously handing out leaflets to onlookers seemed innocuous. I had no idea that the building behind those grins was a training ground for at least three known extremists, according to government agencies.
In the civil case of Wertheim v. Haddad, decided in July 2025, the Federal Court found Haddad in violation of the Racial Discrimination Act. According to the ruling, he used highly dehumanizing language in his lectures, quoted passages about murdering Jews, and presented this as relevant belief rather than historical research. Even though it was symbolic, the decision was the first time Haddad had to deal with legal repercussions for his words, not merely how they were understood.
No charges of terrorism have been brought yet. Haddad is still a free man legally. Just one fact is still controversial. Senator James Paterson referred to Haddad’s center as a “factory of hate,” while others contend that the legislation carefully and protectively puts a border around religious speech, even when it verges on inciting violence.
One notable aspect of Haddad’s network is the frequency with which his former colleagues make headlines around the country. Once a youth leader under Haddad, Youssef Uweinat was imprisoned for inciting violence and mentoring young men. He reappeared in August 2025, brandishing a jihadist flag at a pro-Gaza protest on the Sydney Harbour Bridge, following his parole. That picture garnered national attention and rekindled concerns about Australia’s capacity to deal with ideological readmission.
John Coyne, a security specialist, didn’t hold back. “We’re looking at a systemic failure,” he stated candidly at a panel discussion. “There’s an entire layer of indoctrination that slips under the radar—not because it’s invisible, but because it’s tolerated until someone pulls a trigger.”
Haddad’s sermons become extremely effective persuasive weapons by fusing well-known religious words with contemporary political grievances. They gave him permission to work in a legal limbo where each phrase could be justified as having a religious meaning but, taken as a whole, told a more sinister story. He has been so hard to prosecute—yet so closely watched—because of this complexity.
Prominent members of the Muslim community have stated time and again that Haddad does not represent the faith of many Muslims in Australia. Some, however, also draw attention to the danger of confusing terrorism with justifiable political criticism. They are concerned that, despite the fact that the origins of extremism are frequently more nuanced, every radical is now associated with a single individual.
Haddad created a framework where digital virality and plausible deniability collided through clever messaging. His sermons were re-edited into TikTok videos, uploaded on fringe forums, and distributed among WhatsApp groups. All he needed was a devoted network ready to repost, not a national platform.
Many people considered this year’s Federal Court case to be a watershed. It established a precedent that some religious utterances are not protected by the right to free speech when they target particular ethnic or religious communities. For legal experts as well as intelligence analysts, who now see a way forward for involvement without the requirement for terrorism charges, that decision was particularly significant.
But ideology takes precedence over policy. Another catastrophe occurred as a court rendered its decision. Families were once more left wondering how early warning signs had gone overlooked. Akram had been associated with Street Dawah circles for a long time and was currently in the hospital. Isaac El Matari, the self-described “Australian commander of IS,” was said to have met with him. Red flags had been raised by both men before, but nothing stuck.
Calls for more comprehensive legislation have increased since the establishment of a new national counter-extremism unit. Preventive detention legislation is advocated by some. Others make the case for increased support for deradicalization, especially in educational institutions. Notably, the topic of discussion is moving from who preaches what to how communication motivates action.
Al Madina Dawah Center is still open as of right moment. Despite allegedly being less crowded, sermons still take place. Even if there are more surveillance cameras now, Haddad’s former influence endures. It remains, subtly changing ideas in home study groups, whispered discussions, and Telegram channels.
