By: Isuru Parakrama

January 02, World (LNW): In a shocking act of violence committed yesterday (01), a deadly attack unfolded on Bourbon Street in New Orleans, leaving at least ten dead and dozens injured.

The attacker, identified as 42-year-old Shamsud-Din Jabbar, a U.S. citizen from Texas, was linked to the extremist organisation ISIS, and the FBI is treating the incident as an act of terrorism.

The attack, involving a rented pickup truck and potential IEDs, was swiftly condemned, with authorities conducting an aggressive investigation into any further threats.

Yet, a stark contrast emerged when another incident, a deadly explosion outside the Trump International Hotel in Las Vegas, occurred on the same day, revealing a disturbing and hypocritical response from the same political circles.

The explosion outside the Trump property involved a Tesla Cybertruck that was rented on the app Turo. It exploded while parked near the hotel, resulting in the death of the driver and minor injuries to several bystanders.

Although authorities confirmed the presence of fireworks-style mortars, gasoline canisters, and camping fuel canisters in the truck’s bed, law enforcement were quick to dismiss the idea of a broader terrorist threat.

The initial investigation pointed to the vehicle’s explosives, but there was no concrete evidence linking it to any organised group.

In the wake of this, the far-right narrative took an incredibly polarising turn. Instead of calling it an isolated event, or attributing it to a possible disgruntled individual as they would when violence is carried out by white perpetrators, the far-right swiftly embraced a narrative of terrorism, accusing shadowy “terrorist forces” of orchestrating the explosion, despite the lack of any definitive proof.

As the investigation continued, certain factions of the far-right pushed the theory that the explosion was an act of terrorism orchestrated by “external forces”, possibly with “a connection” to the attack in New Orleans.

This claim emerged despite the absence of any credible evidence tying the explosion to any terrorist organisation. The narrative pushed by far-right politicians and media outlets, including some close to Trump himself, was that the mass media was attempting to cover up the true nature of the attack, potentially even blaming Tesla or misrepresenting the facts.

Some insisted that the explosion, rather than an individual act, was part of a coordinated effort to target Trump properties, elevating the entire situation into a grand conspiracy.

When the attacker in New Orleans is linked to an Islamist extremist group, the label of “terrorist” is readily applied. Yet, when the violence involves white individuals, often with no known ties to organised groups, the fault is carefully swept away from their shoulders and put on “external forces.”

The glaring double standard fuels a broader agenda, with far-right politicians eager to point fingers at “illegal immigrants” or Muslims while excusing or even minimising crimes committed by their own constituents.

The racial and political dimensions of this narrative are undeniable. In the case of Jabbar, despite his affiliation with ISIS, the far-right quickly pointed to the need to tighten immigration policies, tying the violence to the perceived “threat” of foreign nationals.

But when violence erupts amongst white Americans, there is a refusal to label it as part of a broader problem. In fact, violence is often recast as an individual anomaly or the result of mental instability rather than a product of any organised ideology or political movement, or in this case, the works of an external force, further harbouring xenophobic ideologies.

This hypocrisy not only perpetuates xenophobic ideologies but also distorts the way terrorism and violence are understood in the United States. The far-right’s selective outrage strengthens harmful stereotypes and promotes an environment where the threat of violence is skewed to fit a political agenda.

This manipulation of the facts is another glaring example of the far-right’s selective and racially charged responses to violence. When an attack is carried out by someone with ties to a foreign extremist organisation or linked to a minority group, the far-right has no hesitation in immediately labelling it an act of terrorism.

However, when violence is befallen the hands of a white American individual, or in this case a white American associated with no known extremist group, the far-right is more likely to deny that it fits the definition of terrorism. Instead, it is quickly written off as “a conspiracy,” often with vague references to the involvement of external forces, despite lacking credible evidence.

This hypocrisy serves a broader agenda, one that attempts to link terrorism with non-white, non-American individuals, while simultaneously excusing similar acts when they are committed by white individuals.

White perpetrators are often treated with kid gloves, their actions framed as aberrations rather than systemic issues, while the violence committed by people of colour, particularly immigrants, is exaggerated and used as fuel for further demonisation.

The far-right has become adept at cherry-picking narratives to fit a prejudiced worldview, creating a toxic political climate in which certain lives and experiences are valued more than others.

The Trump administration’s history of labelling immigrants as “terrorists” and terrorists as “immigrants” has only exacerbated this divide. When the attacker is white by all accounts, the response is vague and non-committal.

When the perpetrator is of a different background, particularly if they are of colour or linked to a foreign organisation, there is an immediate rush to associate the act with terrorism and reinforce the narrative that immigrants are a threat to national security.

This demonisation of people based on their ethnicity, religion, or immigration status feeds into far-right populism and fuels extremist ideologies, while the same violent acts committed by white Americans are conveniently ignored or downplayed.

Cybertruck is the #1 most American-made full size pickup truck with 65% of its parts coming from the US/Canada and 90% coming from North America as a whole, double that of a gas powered Ford F-150. https://t.co/hAWWo9Bypl

— Sawyer Merritt (@SawyerMerritt) January 2, 2025

Another significant occurrence involves the misinterpretation of Ella Cockbain’s research about sex offenders, by which her dissemination of data from five major on-street grooming investigations is depicted as a stance for non-White individuals being most involved in rape. Cockbain does not claim that 96 per cent of rape gang offenders are non-White or that 80 per cent are Pakistani, but discusses the investigations where 83 per cent of the suspects charged were Asian Pakistani, 11 per cent were another Asian ethnicity, and 6 per cent were white British. This was from a limited dataset and not generalised to all cases of child sexual exploitation (CSE) in the UK.

Cockbain’s articles and research focus on the complexity of sexual exploitation targetting minors, the dangers of racialised narratives, and the need for evidence-based discussions rather than promoting stereotypes. The accusation of “academic dishonesty” based on these claims is not substantiated by the referenced materials.

What is clear is that this selective interpretation of violence serves to maintain an environment where far-right politicians can exploit fear and prejudice for political gain.

It forces us to confront the disturbing reality that racism and Islamophobia are not simply side effects of this toxic political climate but are central to its design.

Until this hypocrisy is recognised and addressed, the far-right will continue to manipulate tragedies for political purposes, perpetuating division and inequality across the United States.