The fight against terrorism is held back by selective labelling

Less than three years ago, a tragic incident occurred in the city of Nice, France, where a young Tunisian man committed a brutal crime by stabbing three individuals to death inside a Catholic church.

On that day, authorities and even President Emmanuel Macron, swiftly labelled the crime as an act of Islamic terrorism, without waiting for the investigation to conclude. It highlighted a concerning pattern where the description of a crime seems to be linked more to the identity of the perpetrator rather than the severity of the act or the circumstances of the victims.

The confusion in defining terrorism – and these kinds of responses to it – is undermining the international fight against it by muddling the issue.

Jacinda's exemplary response

It is worth recalling the exemplary response of the former Prime Minister of New Zealand Jacinda Ardern, who unequivocally labelled the attack on two mosques in 2020 as a terrorist act.

She did not delve into the perpetrator's psychological or emotional stability nor did she seek to exempt him from being called a terrorist simply because he was not a Muslim. Searching for such justifications unfortunately opens the door for terrorists to find motives and reasons to rationalise their crimes.

There are questions about how the term is used and the implications it carries. Who decided that terrorism has no other motives? Who claimed that the presence of a different reason for killing innocent people means the crime becomes any less terrifying?

Double standards

As for Annecy, would anyone have questioned the motives of Abdel Masih's crime if his name were Muhammad, Ahmed, or Ali?

More generally, can any crime indeed be carried out without a motive? Masih's wife, who chose not to disclose her name, provided a statement to Agency France-Presse, describing him as a loving father to their three-year-old child.

She revealed that he contacted her four months ago, stating that he was "living in a church." She said he had left Sweden due to his unsuccessful attempts to obtain citizenship.

His mother, residing in the United States for a decade, revealed that his ex-wife had previously informed her that he was experiencing depression because his Swedish citizenship applications were being rejected.

Could this have been the motive for his crime? Did he decide to kill children, the same age as his own child, simply for that?

Recently, Belgian authorities released Iranian diplomat Asadollah Asadi as part of a prisoner exchange agreement, which some perceive as succumbing to explicit blackmail by the Iranian authorities.

The exchange involved the release of Belgian aid worker Olivier Vandecasteele, who had been detained in Iran. According to Belgian officials, Asadi, arrested in 2018, had planned a terrorist attack against an Iranian opposition gathering in Paris.

He had provided explosive materials to two accomplices in Belgium who intended to carry out the attack. Asadi was convicted and sentenced to 20 years in prison.

The revelation of Asadi's terrorist plot highlights the potentially catastrophic consequences that could have occurred had the plan not been uncovered. The attack could have claimed the lives of numerous civilians.

However, the fact that Asadi was exchanged for an aid worker raises questions about the efficacy of the so-called war on terrorism. Such actions may inadvertently contribute to the perpetuation of extremism, subsequently leading to more acts of terrorism.

It is disconcerting to see the terrorism label seemingly designated to a particular religion or sect.

In cases where the perpetrator does not fit this profile, regardless of the number of victims or their ages, there is often an inclination to deny it is terrorism, a label often too selectively applied.