THE FBI'S NATIONAL SPOKESMAN was already prepared to dismiss a connection to
terrorism the day after ricin was found in a Las Vegas hotel room. Special Agent Richard
Kolko told the press on Feb. 29 that the presence of ricin appeared unrelated
to terrorism "based on the information gathered so far." He made this
announcement before any details about the incident hit the press--and when they
did, it made the announcement seem premature, to say the least.
The following day, Las Vegas
police revealed that they had discovered "general firearms" and an
"anarchist-type textbook" with an entry on ricin marked two days
before they found the ricin itself. Ricin has two basic uses: poisoning people
and cancer research. Anarchist texts such as the infamous The Anarchist
Cookbook couple instructions on building a variety of weapons with the
advocacy of violence to bring about political change--which fits the classic
definition of terrorism. No anarchist texts are known to contain instructions
on how to conduct cancer research.
There is no question that a competent investigator presented with this set
of facts would entertain the hypothesis that the ricin had been developed with
an eye toward political violence. Yet according to CNN, even
after those background facts became public, an internal law enforcement report
stated that the FBI considered the ricin discovery "criminal in nature
with no nexus to terrorism." There is little reason to think that the FBI
knows something we do not on this issue. Even as the Las Vegas Metropolitan
Police Department's conclusion about the lack of a terrorist link was being
circulated by the media, deputy chief Kathy Suey admitted that law enforcement
didn't "know an awful lot" about the 57-year-old man who wound up in
critical condition after staying in the room where the ricin was found.
"For the last 12 hours," she said, "our efforts have been on the
containment and cleanup of the area and areas where there could have been
exposure. We are now going forward with an investigation."
It is, of course, too early to declare that the Las Vegas incident was connected to
terrorism. But law enforcement's announcement to the contrary was almost
certainly premature--and is part of a larger pattern of officials dismissing
acts of violence as unrelated to terrorism long before they are in a position
The U.S. Code defines domestic terrorism as acts that endanger human life in
violation of American criminal law, and that appear to be intended "to
intimidate or coerce a civilian population" or "to influence the
policy of a government by intimidation or coercion." So the defining
factor that would classify an instance of violence as terrorism is the
motivation behind it: A violent act is terrorism if its perpetrator intends it
to intimidate American citizens or alter U.S. policies.
With that definition in mind, the pattern of law enforcement declaring
violent incidents to be unrelated to terrorism before they have any way of
knowing becomes clear.
The preeminent example of a premature announcement that a violent incident
was unrelated to terrorism is also one of the few times that the FBI changed
its tune. On July 4, 2002, Hesham Mohamed Hadayet opened fire at the Los Angeles International Airport's
El Al ticket counter, killing two Israelis and wounding four other people
before a security guard shot him dead. Two days later, FBI spokesman Matt
McLaughlin told the press that "there's nothing to indicate terrorism at
this point," and added that "we'd have to find some connections to a
terrorist group" before doing so.
McLaughlin's reasoning was dead wrong: Connections to
international terrorist groups are not a prerequisite for an act to be defined
as terrorism. A report by federal investigators who thoroughly explored the
Hadayet case revealed no links to international terrorist groups--but
characterized the shooting as a terrorist act because Hadayet had virulent
anti-Israel views and apparently hoped to influence U.S. policy toward the country.
Though it took almost a year for the FBI's stance on the case to change, in
April 2003 a Bureau spokesman said they
agreed with the report's conclusion that the shooting fit "the definition
Similar examples abound. We outline them here not to argue that all of these
incidents should be characterized as terrorism. Rather, our point is
that in these cases, officials quickly declared that the violent incidents were
not terrorism--at a time when no significant investigation had been performed,
and when these announcements could not possibly be regarded as credible.
Tahmeed Ahmad, a Florida math teacher who had been on the federal terrorist
watch list, was arrested in October 2007 after attacking the Homestead Air
Reserve Base with vodka bottles that he intended to use as explosives and
butcher knives. Despite the fact that he had screamed "Death to America"
during the attack, and despite the fact that he told guards he wanted to kill
soldiers, authorities immediately announced that this was not an act of
terrorism. An FBI official told the press within two days of the attack that
Ahmad simply wanted to "commit suicide by cop" (although a base
spokesman did allow that "this was quite an unusual event").
On July 26, 2006, Pakistani-American Naveed Afzal Haq opened fire at the
Jewish Federation of Greater Seattle, killing one and wounding five. Before
opening fire, he exclaimed, "I am a Muslim American, angry at Israel."
Almost immediately the FBI labeled the shootings a hate crime rather than a
terrorist act, with Seattle's
assistant special agent in charge of counterterrorism telling the press:
"We believe it's a lone individual acting out his antagonism."
On August 31, 2006, Omeed Aziz Popal hit about fourteen pedestrians in San Francisco with his
black Honda SUV--ending his spree in front of a Jewish Community Center where
he struck two people. Within hours of Popal's arrest, police officials said
there was no evidence that he had intended to commit a terrorist act, even
though an eyewitness heard Popal refer to himself as a "terrorist."
His self-description is of course not determinative--but it at least raises the
These examples—and there are others beyond them—demonstrate a pattern in
which authorities announce that a violent act was not terrorism before they
have had a chance to investigate. In all the cases cited above, there was
reason to suspect that there may have been a terrorist motivation.
One mistake that authorities frequently make is assuming that an act only
constitutes terrorism if it is connected to established networks. This
assumption is echoed, for example, in Matt McLaughlin's comment following the
Hadayet shooting that "we'd have to find some connections to a terrorist
group." Though terrorists connected to broader networks tend to be more
competent and thus deadlier, the U.S. Code defines terrorism based on the
intent rather than the perpetrator's connections. Moreover, experts have
recognized the phenomenon of the "lone-wolf terrorist" who, by
definition, is not part of a network.
But the FBI was eventually forced to correct its assessment in the Hadayet
case, conceding that the incident was terrorism even though Hadayet was not
part of a network. Clearly our law enforcement institutions are not ignorant on
this point. So what else is going on?
We spoke with Jeff Breinholt, who served as the deputy chief of the
Department of Justice's counterterrorism section and is currently the director
of national security law at the International Assessment and Strategy Center.
He said that he has noticed the tendency for authorities to reflexively
proclaim violent acts unrelated to terrorism before they have a solid basis for
doing so, and suggested that this may be a reaction to the charge that the
government has been too overzealous with terror alerts. This may be part of the
picture, but this pattern was seen even before 9/11 and the accompanying wave
of terror alerts. Daniel Pipes has noted, for example, that
"[t]he 1990 murder of Rabbi Meir Kahane by the Islamist El Sayyid Nosair
was initially ascribed by the police to 'a prescription drug for or consistent
Part of the reason may be that there is a particular stigma attached to
terrorism that does not attach to other acts. Officials may be concerned that
the idea that a terrorist act has occurred on U.S. soil--even one carried out by
a lone wolf--would invoke feelings of uneasiness and fear. This stigma may also
create concerns about commercial interests. In the most recent incident
involving ricin, Las Vegas
is a popular vacation destination--one that people may be less eager to visit
if there are whispers of a terror plot involving the city.
Whatever the reason, the net effect is that this phenomenon erodes the
credibility of official announcements. One of us has previously
written about how the profusion of false alarms we experienced in late 2005
had a desensitizing effect on the public. There is likewise a perceptual cost
to the opposite trend of "inverse false alarms." It is in officials'
best interest to maintain their credibility on pronouncements related to