The death of fugitive Dezi Freeman has thrown a spotlight on a growing movement in Australia, one built on the simple belief the government has no right to control you.

Freeman had been on the run for more than seven months accused of killing two police officers and seriously injuring a third in an ambush at his rural property in Porepunkah, in Victoria’s northeast.

Police had arrived to execute a warrant when they were met with gunfire.

Two officers, Detective Leading Senior Constable Neal Thompson and Senior Constable Vadim de Waart-Hottart, were killed in what would become one of the most significant attacks on police in recent Australian history.

Freeman fled into the surrounding bushland, sparking a massive manhunt that stretched across months, drew in hundreds of officers, and generated thousands of leads.

He evaded capture in rugged terrain he knew well, surviving off-grid in remote parts of Victoria’s high country.

The search finally ended when police tracked him to a remote property near the NSW border on Monday.

After a tense, hours-long standoff, Freeman refused to surrender and was shot dead by officers.

His case has renewed focus on the so-called sovereign citizen movement and the anti-government ideology behind it — beliefs Freeman had openly aligned himself with in the years leading up to the attack.

Experts say the movement has gained traction in recent years, fuelled by rising distrust in institutions, financial pressure, and the spread of fringe ideas through online communities where those beliefs are reinforced rather than challenged.

Most people who feel angry or frustrated with government will never become violent.

But experts warn, for a small number of people, that frustration can deepen into something far more extreme: a complete rejection of authority, the law, and the people tasked with enforcing it.

What is the sovereign citizen movement?

Dr Josh Roose, a political sociologist and associate professor of politics at Deakin University, told 7NEWS.com.au the movement is built around a fundamental belief that government itself is not legitimate and its laws don’t need to be followed.

“In effect, they’re anti-government extremists who believe the government’s a corporation that enslaves the people, in part through law, and part through the legal system, hence they develop their own form of pseudo-law,” he said.

He said believers think they can free themselves by rejecting the legal identity given to them at birth.

“In that context, they have a deep hatred of government, law enforcement in particular, police, and are highly active online, influenced by transnational ideas and conspiratorial thinking.”

According to Roose, it is less a single, organised group but rather a loose network of individuals connected by a shared distrust of the government.

“It’s a very fluid, diverse movement. It’s made up primarily of individuals who gather online or in local context, who have a similar sort of distrust of government but then enact this in different ways among themselves.”

Dr Michael Zekulin, a senior lecturer in the ANU School of Politics and International Relations, said the ideology exists on a spectrum.

“The more extreme versions of this ideology are more than anti-government, as in, I don’t like government — it’s basically now that government is illegitimate,” he told 7NEWS.com.au.

“And of course, not just government, but any agent or agency of government.”

In simple terms, that means police, councils, courts, and anyone else seen as representing state power can become targets of that anger, not just as institutions but as individuals.

Dezi Freeman, 56, who was born Desmond Filby, was accused of opening fire at police officers, killing two and injuring a third. Credit: Victoria Police

What is feeding the growth?

The movement has picked up pace in recent years, particularly during and after the pandemic when lockdowns, vaccine mandates, and government intervention in daily life pushed more people towards anti-government ideas.

Roose said the cost-of-living crisis that followed made the anti-government message even more appealing to people already struggling.

“People are drawn to these ideas because the narrative of ‘the government’s at fault, the government’s bad, police are bad’ becomes really more attractive to people who are experiencing financial hardship, who are on the fringe of society, who are spending more time online engaging with conspiratorial content,” he said.

“For people who are feeling disempowered and vulnerable and like they’re on a downward social trajectory, sovereign citizen ideas actually offer them a form of empowerment.”

Zekulin said COVID became a major accelerant because it brought government power into everyday life in a very visible way.

“When you are suspicious of government, and you are concerned the government is trying to trample your rights or putting rules and laws onto you that you don’t necessarily believe you must adhere to, then of course, that’s a tremendous amount of tension.”

He said the pandemic did two things at once: it brought new people into the movement, and pushed some existing believers further toward the extreme as restrictions, mandates, and uncertainty deepened distrust and reinforced existing grievances.

The internet, both experts said, can be blamed for the sudden surge in the movement.

Roose described the movement as “highly active online”.

Zekulin said online spaces have changed everything, allowing people to find not just ideas but community.

“The internet, their ability to spread content, to meet up, to form chat rooms, these have very significant socio-psychological powerful forces,” he said.

“If you go on to any of these social media sites, within six or seven clicks, you’re really gone down the rabbit hole here. The algorithm takes you down, it takes you places.”

He said that what was once more local is now increasingly global.

“You do become concerned that there’s actually now a sort of transnational — people with this ideology in Canada are talking to people who have this ideology in Australia, who have this ideology in the UK.”

That matters because it means fringe beliefs no longer stay fringe for long. People can find reinforcement, validation, and radical ideas much faster than before.

How does someone move from distrust to rejection?

It is rare for people to jump straight into extreme beliefs. More often, it starts with something much more ordinary: feeling fed up, ignored or left behind.

For many, it begins with frustration at things such as rising costs, distrust in institutions, or a sense the system is no longer working for them — feelings that, on their own, are not unusual.

But over time, those frustrations can deepen, especially when they are reinforced in online communities that offer simple explanations and someone to blame.

Roose said the shift tends to happen when that frustration becomes more than momentary, when it starts to feel personal and persistent, tied to a sense that the system is no longer working for you.

“Most people have upward social trajectories where they’re seeking to build better life and they feel like they’re making progress,” he said.

“And that’s part of the social compact, work hard, get rewarded. But if you feel like you’re working hard, and you’re not being rewarded, or you’re going backwards, and you feel like you’re not being acknowledged, maybe you’re feeling invisible.”

He said this can be especially sharp in regional Australia, where people can feel priced out of the towns they grew up in and shut out of the life they thought they were building.

“People feel the world is leaving them behind. And so, they immerse themselves in these subcultures, and these subcultures, for some, can turn very violent.”

Zekulin concurred, noting many people are first drawn in through ideas that do not seem extreme at all.

“Your point of entry is, I’m upset at government. The government is not doing what it used to be able to do. Why does the government keep taking my money, but nothing happens to me? Or nothing good?” he said.

That is where the online world becomes especially dangerous.

“One of the terms we’re using now as it relates to groups related to far-right extremism or sovereign citizen movement is the idea termed breadcrumbing,” Zekulin said.

“The public face of this is not designed to be extreme. It is not designed to be antagonistic. It’s getting you in the door.

“And then once you are in the door, then these forces of meeting up with other people, often in private chat rooms where the rhetoric and the language and the ideas may become more conspirational, might become more aggressive.”

When it turns dangerous

It is worth noting that not everyone who joins the sovereign citizen belief system is violent, but they are at risk when anger, resentment, and ideology combine in direct clashes with authority.

“The key driver in terrorism, for example, is anger. Anger is focused on the present. It’s based on a specific disempowerment,” Roose said.

“When you tie that into an attempt to shape the world around you, and you’re constantly experiencing failure, there’s a sense of resentment that ties in. Sense of shame, sense of humiliation, a sense of having been treated poorly, and that becomes a personal response. But the narrative offers empowerment.”

Zekulin said the risk often rises when believers come face-to-face with people they see as agents of an illegitimate system.

“When it becomes confrontational is when they come into a position where they’re in a direct interaction with agencies of government or law enforcement,” he said.

He said that in the US, those confrontations often involved routine police interactions that spiralled badly because the person involved did not accept the officer’s authority.

Roose said the broader anti-government ideology behind sovereign citizen beliefs had a long history of violence overseas.

“The anti-government extremist ideology that underpins it has been responsible for well over 100 attacks on law enforcement in the US, including many deaths,” he said.

“There’s an explosive rage in some, because of their extreme hate and contempt for government and authority.”

Why this is becoming harder to ignore

Australia has a long-standing scepticism of authority, Roose noted.

That scepticism on its own is not the problem. The problem is what happens when it mixes with economic pain, online radicalisation, and a strong sense of grievance.

Roose said Australia was at a “critical point” as the cost-of-living crisis deepens and pressure grows in regional and outer suburban areas.

“People are increasingly desperate,” he said.

Zekulin said that in this kind of environment, the first step into these ideas becomes easier, as growing frustration and distrust make people more open to narratives that challenge the legitimacy of government.

“When you have concerns with an ideology that is related to a growing distrust or mistrust of government, and a belief that government is more than ever actually not the solution, but is a problem, then yes, you start to be concerned that this idea … become much more accessible, and people become more susceptible,” he said.

Roose said the online reaction from some sovereign citizen believers after Freeman’s death showed how serious the issue had become.

“You can see the response of sovereign citizens online, praising Freeman, expressing their hatred of police and their happiness that police died,” he said.

“This speaks to the seriousness of the problem and its embedded nature.”

He said dealing with that would take much more than policing.

“Significant work needs to be done across government over a prolonged period of time to regain trust.”

That may be the most confronting takeaway from the Freeman case.

Because while most people will never go down this path, the conditions that allow it to happen — frustration, distrust, and a sense of being left behind — are becoming more common.

And as experts warn, when those feelings take hold and are reinforced, the jump to an extremist belief system becomes much easier to make.