The Institutional Cover-Up After Every Islamist Attack

They Knew. They Were Warned. They Did Nothing.
Neighbours raised the alarm. Police ignored the warnings. Politicians stayed silent. Now the word “self-radicalised” is being used to hide another institutional failure, because in Britain the pattern of radicalisation is always followed by the pattern of cover-up.
So now we know that the Manchester synagogue attacker, Jihad Al-Shamie, and members of his family were reported to Greater Manchester Police by a neighbour who feared they were being radicalised. We also know that his father’s public posts praising Hamas confirm those fears were entirely justified. And while on bail for rape, Jihad went on to attempt mass murder.
In the days since the attack, even darker details have come to light. Al-Shamie had three wives, including a white Muslim convert who says she endured three years of abuse during which he raped her multiple times. He was also married to another white convert, an NHS nurse, while maintaining a relationship with a British-Pakistani wife and their three children. Each marriage was conducted through online Islamic ceremonies, often after meeting women on Muslim dating apps.
This was not a lone wolf. This was a serial abuser, a known threat, and a man whose religious extremism, misogyny and violence converged while he walked free on bail.
Now we are watching the narrative management phase unfold.
The press and police are beginning to push the idea that Al-Shamie was “self-radicalised.” We are told, in vague terms, that he searched for ISIS videos on Telegram, that he pledged allegiance to Islamic State during a 999 call, that he changed during lockdown. No forensic evidence has been shown. No timeline has been provided. No clear proof has been offered. Just a handful of anecdotes, convenient enough to imply a lone actor but hollow under scrutiny.
Counter Terrorism Policing North West have issued the usual formula. They say Al-Shamie was never referred to Prevent and was not known to Counter Terrorism Policing. But the wording matters.
- It does not say whether MI5 or other intelligence agencies were aware of him.
- It does not say whether any member of his family was ever referred to Prevent.
- It does not explain why neighbours’ reports of radicalisation went nowhere.
- And it does not tell us which mosque Jihad and his father attended.
If our boy Jihad had been called John, and if he had been a far-right extremist, does anyone believe the local MP Lucy Powell or the Mayor Andy Burnham would have stayed silent? We all know the answer.
If I were a local politician serious about transparency, I would not be repeating police statements. I would be demanding verifiable evidence.
- Jihad Al-Shamie’s full criminal record.
We know he was on bail for rape and had minor offences on record. The public deserves to see the complete chronology of his offending and the failures that allowed him to remain free. - Whether any member of his family were ever referred to Prevent.
Police now insist that he personally was never referred. They have not said whether anyone else in his household was, or how community warnings about radicalisation were ignored. - Whether MI5 or other intelligence agencies had him or his family on their radar.
The official line says he was not known to Counter Terrorism Policing. That is not the same as saying he was unknown to MI5 or GCHQ. The difference is important, and the wording is calculated. - Which mosque Jihad and his father attended, and whether it receives foreign or political funding.
Not one official source has disclosed this. If the location were innocent, it would have been named already. The silence suggests the truth is uncomfortable.
Officials speak of transparency but offer only selective disclosure, the bare minimum needed to control the narrative. Until these questions are answered in full, the official story remains incomplete and politically managed.
The phrase “self-radicalised” is not an explanation. It is an excuse. It exists to shift blame away from institutions, to imply that radicalisation is mysterious, that it simply happens online, that no one could have stopped it. It allows the same agencies who ignored warnings, who failed to monitor known risks, and who turned a blind eye to extremist funding, to walk away untouched.
How the Focus Quietly Moves Away from the Truth
Every time a terror attack happens in Britain, the story starts clearly enough. A man commits an act of Islamist violence, declaring his allegiance to a cause that despises the country he lives in. For a moment, it looks like there might finally be an honest conversation about ideology and accountability. But within days, the focus shifts. The language changes. The truth begins to dissolve.
The press turn their attention to the attacker’s private life. We hear about failed marriages, unhappy childhoods, depression, drugs, loneliness. Every personal detail pulls the story away from what he believed and towards what he felt. Ideology turns into emotion. Jihad becomes pathology. The Islamist becomes a case study.
Instead of asking who influenced him, what institutions shaped him, or which networks reinforced his worldview, we are invited to look inward and to treat his actions as symptoms rather than convictions. The political becomes personal. The collective becomes individual. The organised becomes accidental. It is a way of managing public perception. A way of protecting those who should have acted, but didn’t.
When antisemitism is mentioned, it is stripped of context. We are told the attack was driven by hatred of Jews, but not asked to consider where that hatred comes from, or how it grows in certain political and religious environments. The hatred is acknowledged, but never located. It is left hanging in the air, detached from the people and ideas that nurture it.
Meanwhile, the police are praised for their bravery and “swift response.” That praise is deserved, yet it performs another function. It changes the subject. The story moves from prevention to reaction, from failure to heroism. The question of why Al-Shamie was free becomes a story about how quickly he was stopped. Negligence turns into competence. The system that failed to protect the public is celebrated for its response after the fact.
Soon, the focus moves to the victims, the funerals, the vigils. The acts of courage and compassion fill the front pages. Grief replaces scrutiny. The emotional takes over the analytical. The public are invited to feel, not to think.
Then the politicians arrive with their familiar words. We must stand together. This will not divide us. Our communities will not be torn apart. The message sounds noble, but it carries a quiet threat. Do not ask difficult questions. Do not look too closely at why this keeps happening.
By the end of the week, the story has been softened. The attacker is described as “self-radicalised.” His beliefs are presented as confusion, not conviction. The institutions that failed to act are praised for their professionalism. The politicians who ignored warnings are applauded for their calls for unity.
That is how the cover-up works in Britain today. It doesn’t need secrecy or planning. It happens through tone, repetition, and habit. Each time the same pattern unfolds. The outrage is absorbed. The blame disappears. And the public is gently steered back into silence.
The Managed Silence
This is what happens when institutions forget who they serve. The state, the media and the political class have become fluent in distraction. They no longer try to understand these attacks, only to control their aftermath. Every phrase, every headline, every press conference is designed to calm, not to clarify.
The public are told that the threat is unpredictable, that no one could have seen it coming, that the only response is unity. But unity without honesty is just denial with a flag wrapped around it. Communities cannot heal if they are being lied to. Victims cannot rest if the truth is being managed. And no society can stay safe when its leaders refuse to face the ideology that wants it destroyed.
We are expected to accept the silence. To believe that the word “self-radicalised” explains everything. To move on and let the same failures repeat. But some of us refuse to forget what we have seen. We watched this same process after the Manchester Arena bombing. We saw it after every grooming-gang scandal. We see it again now, the same choreography of avoidance and self-congratulation.
The truth is not complicated. It has simply become inconvenient. Every attack exposes a system that protects reputations instead of lives. A political culture more concerned with appearances than accountability. A leadership class that would rather manage outrage than prevent the next atrocity.
So, we return to just one of the many questions that still matters.
Which mosque did Jihad Al-Shamie and his father attend?
Who funded it? Who ignored the warnings? Who decided the public did not need to know?
Until those questions are answered, the cover-up continues.
I am Raja Miah. It is now seven years since I first started to expose how politicians protected the rape gangs.
If my words have ever helped you make sense of a broken system, if they’ve ever made you feel seen, heard, or hopeful, please don’t scroll past.
🔴 Support my work. This fight is far from over.
👉 http://redwallandtherabble.co.uk
There are no paywalls to access any of my work. I share all of my content for free.
As well as sharing my work on social media and running online workshops, each month, I travel across the country to meet with ordinary people. I charge no speaker fees. Nor do I claim a single penny in expenses.
All I ask in return, for those that can afford to do so, is support me from just £3/month or £30/year. That’s 75p a week. Pennies to most - everything to help keep me going.
🔴 Prefer a one-off contribution?
👉 http://BuyMeACoffee.com/recusantnine
👉 http://paypal.me/RecusantNine
This is the fight. This is the moment. There will not be another.
- Raja 🙏