AUSTIN PETERSEN: How Bourbon St became a battlefield

Extremist groups like ISIS prey on those who feel abandoned or wronged by the system.

Extremist groups like ISIS prey on those who feel abandoned or wronged by the system.

The streets of New Orleans turned into a scene of carnage on New Year’s Day when Shamsud-Din Jabbar, a Texas-born Army veteran, plowed a rented truck into a crowd on Bourbon Street. Fourteen people dead, dozens injured. As the FBI pieced together the motives behind this horrifying attack, one chilling detail stood out: Jabbar pledged allegiance to ISIS and draped his vehicle with the group’s flag. This wasn’t an act of random violence.

Jabbar’s story is yet another tragic example of how vulnerable individuals are being exploited by extremist ideologies online, as I’ve been chronicling in my Human Events pieces such as the ‘femcel’ killer Samantha Rupnow. Jabbar, however, was once a symbol of American patriotism. An Army veteran who served in Afghanistan, he built a civilian life with six-figure salaries at prestigious firms like Deloitte. But behind the polished resume was a man spiraling into chaos. Three divorces, crushing child support payments, failed business ventures, and mounting debt left him fractured. It was a slow burn fueled by failure and despair, and possibly even a broken family court system.

This isn’t an isolated incident. Timothy Clancy, a counterterrorism expert, noted that “ISIS never went away. They shifted what we perceive them as, but they’re still out there activating that grievance.” They’ve adapted, finding fertile ground online to radicalize individuals who feel marginalized or betrayed. For Jabbar, financial ruin and personal failures provided the perfect storm for his cowardly act, and radical Islam was a ready-made ideological weapon, an excuse to commit mass murder.

Extremist groups like ISIS prey on those who feel abandoned or wronged by the system. For Jabbar, the group’s narrative of a “war between believers and disbelievers” gave his grievances a purpose. It transformed a struggling man into a self-proclaimed warrior for a twisted cause. In his final hours, Jabbar’s videos revealed plans to murder his own family. He changed course only because he wanted the world’s attention focused on his “message.” That message killed 14 innocent people.

Stephen Miller summed it up bluntly: “Islamist terrorism is an import. It is not ‘homegrown.’ It did not exist here before migration brought it here.” While Jabbar was born and raised in Texas, his allegiance shifted to a foreign ideology incompatible with the values he once swore to defend. This attack was a renunciation of American ideals.

The United States is built on the principle of separating church and state. Wahhabist Islam, the strain that fuels groups like ISIS, demands the opposite—total submission of government and law to religion. These values cannot coexist. ISIS doesn’t see nations or borders; they see a global caliphate, and they’ll exploit anyone to achieve it. Jabbar’s radicalization proves that even an American upbringing and military service aren’t guarantees against the pull of such ideologies.

Social media played a central role in this tragedy. Jabbar’s descent into extremism didn’t happen in isolation. He posted videos hours before the attack, detailing his allegiance to ISIS and outlining his plans. The internet has become a breeding ground for radicalization, a space where grievances are amplified and extremist ideas thrive unchecked. Platforms may tout their content moderation policies, but let’s be honest, you’re more likely to get flagged if you post a video in support of Donald Trump than if you post one supporting ISIS. Jabbar’s videos were live for hours. By the time authorities acted, it was too late. Jabbar’s brother described him as someone who “understood what it meant to be a Muslim.” Indeed.

The aftermath raises urgent questions. How do we identify and stop radicalization before it’s too late? What role should social media companies play in preventing their platforms from becoming pipelines for terror? And how do we address the vulnerabilities that extremists exploit? Is it fair to suggest that further importing those who share these ideals that are antithetical to our values may not be the best idea?

New Orleans’ tragedy reminds us that Islamic terrorism isn’t a relic of the past. It’s a persistent threat that demands vigilance. Radical ideologies don’t just attack with bombs or trucks; they attack the very foundation of what it means to be American. For all the talk about defeating ISIS, the group’s ideology lives on—lurking in chatrooms, social media posts, and the disillusioned minds of people like Jabbar. And there are far more, and far larger radical groups pouring poison into the minds of more like Rupnow and Jabbar.

The fight against terrorism isn’t just overseas; it’s here, in the hearts and minds of those who could be turned against the country they once called home. And until we address the root causes—both the personal and the ideological—this won’t be the last tragedy we mourn. My personal belief is that we will be far safer in our nation if we band together as a people, open the doors of our houses in our communities and build relationships with our neighbors, and start to do what it takes to once again have a high trust society: talk to one another in person again.

 

Image: Title: bourbon street
ADVERTISEMENT

Opinion

View All

Sweden closes churches to meet climate change goals

These goals included being fossil-free by 2027....

Adam Carolla tells Charlie Kirk California's DEI policies contributed to LA wildfires

"They say actions have consequences, but inactions have even bigger consequences."...

UK counter-terrorism unit investigates Elon Musk over X posts slamming Pakistani rape gangs, Labour cover-up

The grooming gangs, which predominately consist of Pakistani Muslim men, allegedly have sexually abus...