Averted 9/11

By Nilantha Ilangamuwa

Thanks to Indian pilot Captain Smit Machchhar, who helped save the lives of those aboard Flydubai flight FZ1073 and survived to recount what happened inside the cockpit. The incident could be described as an averted 9/11-style catastrophe, referring to the alleged intention to turn a passenger aircraft into a weapon, not to equivalence in scale or circumstances. Yet sustained scrutiny has been eclipsed by geopolitical propaganda and conspiracy theories. On October 9, the UAE Attorney-General said an Omani co-pilot allegedly planned to seize the aircraft and crash it into the passenger terminal at Ben Gurion Airport in Tel Aviv. Prosecutors say the suspect attacked the captain with an emergency axe before crew members, other pilots and passengers intervened and the aircraft landed in Saudi Arabia. Timely intervention appears to have averted disaster; the available account identifies no failure in the response. An aircraft is a confined environment in which one trusted professional can place hundreds of lives at risk.

According to the UAE investigation, the suspect worked for several airlines before joining Flydubai in January 2026. Prosecutors allege that signs of radicalisation appeared in 2017, while he was studying in Australia, and that he consumed extremist literature and online material glorifying terrorist organisations and suicide attacks. They also allege that earlier flights to Tel Aviv allowed him to familiarise himself with the route and airport. If corroborated, these details suggest preparation rather than an impulsive confrontation. The issue is not whether the suspect appeared religious, behaved differently from colleagues or attended a mosque. None of those facts alone proves a terrorist threat. The focus belongs on intent, preparation, communications and whether any institution held credible warning information. Confusing religious observance with violent extremism damages civil liberties and counterterrorism work alike.

Oman merits attention because its modern history complicates the assumption that a stable Gulf state is insulated from jihadist violence. On July 15, 2024, three Omani brothers attacked worshippers at the Ali bin Abi Talib Shia mosque in Muscat’s Wadi al-Kabir district. Six people were killed, including four Pakistani nationals, one Indian national and an Omani police officer. The Islamic State claimed responsibility. The Royal Oman Police later confirmed that the attackers were brothers and said they had been influenced by what officials called “misguided ideas.” The official statement offered little public detail about how they adopted extremist beliefs. The mosque was a Shia place of worship, and the attack occurred around Ashura, an important observance for Shia Muslims. The target was consistent with the Islamic State’s anti-Shia ideology. Whether the brothers received direct instructions, contacted an established network or acted principally under propaganda’s influence remains unresolved.

Oman’s record cannot be taken as evidence that the country is a centre of widespread jihadist activity. Its modern history includes the Dhofar rebellion of the 1960s and 1970s, rooted in political and social grievances and later shaped by revolutionary and Marxist influences. It was not an early version of the Islamic State; treating the movements as interchangeable erases their distinct histories. Yemen’s prolonged conflict has created space for al-Qaeda in the Arabian Peninsula and Islamic State-linked militants, presenting security concerns for neighbouring states. The Muscat shooting and alleged Flydubai plot require separate evidentiary assessments. The pathways from grievance and propaganda to violence are varied and difficult to reconstruct.

Radicalisation is not an automatic transformation caused by entering a mosque, reading religious texts or joining a community. Violent extremist organisations divide the world into the pure and impure, the faithful and apostate, the heroic attacker and supposedly legitimate victim. Their propaganda can turn political grievance into a moral justification for murder. The doctrine of takfir, declaring other Muslims apostates, has been used by violent jihadist movements to legitimise attacks on communities they reject. Serious investigation concerns specific communications, contacts, preparations and statements, not ordinary religious practice. In the Flydubai case, prosecutors describe conduct beyond belief or expression, including alleged reconnaissance and an attempted seizure of an aircraft. If substantiated, those acts would be stronger indicators of an operational threat than assumptions about personal religiosity.

The employment history raises questions that speeches about vigilance cannot answer. Reports say the suspect worked for Oman Air and Royal Air Maroc before joining Flydubai. Some accounts suggest concerns about his views affected earlier aviation duties, but the precise nature of any restriction, supporting records and information disclosed to later employers require independent confirmation. An internal personnel decision, security assessment and formal regulatory prohibition are not equivalent. Nor can an employer act on information it was never legally entitled to receive. International Civil Aviation Organization guidance on insider threats emphasises background checks, recurring vetting and cooperation between relevant authorities. The weakness may not be an absence of law but a failure to connect information held by separate institutions. Aviation regulators and employers need fair procedures for assessing credible risks. Privacy and due process matter, as does preventing substantiated safety information from disappearing at an international border. The distinction between suspicion and proof determines whether prevention protects the public or transfers untested allegations from one institution to another without independent review.

UAE prosecutors have referred to the suspect’s studies in Melbourne and alleged exposure to extremist material. Reports have mentioned people associated with a Melbourne religious centre, whose leader has denied knowing the suspect. However, public reporting has not established that the centre or its leadership radicalised him or participated in the alleged plot. Association is not complicity. Broad suspicion of whole communities can alienate people whose cooperation may help identify genuine threats.

Conspiracy theories offer a simpler product than painstaking investigation. The incident has prompted claims of a hidden state operation, deliberate provocation or intelligence-agency plot, none supported by verified evidence. Such narratives replace questions that can be investigated with explanations designed to resist disproof. They can drown out witnesses, confuse the public and weaken pressure for the practical reforms that reduce risk.

Accountability questions need no secret masterminds. The dispute over warnings before the Hamas-led attack of October 7, 2023, demonstrates the difference between accountability questions and unsupported theories. Former Shin Bet chief Ronen Bar filed a defamation suit against Benjamin Netanyahu on October 14, 2026, alleging that the prime minister had received warnings and was shifting blame. Netanyahu disputes the allegations. The lawsuit comes ahead of Israel’s October 27 election, but a court filing is not a judicial finding. The evidentiary task is to establish what warnings existed, who received them, how specific they were and what decisions followed. No verified evidence links that dispute to the Flydubai incident. The comparison concerns intelligence and accountability, not a shared plot. Records, independent scrutiny and attributed claims are more useful than political storytelling.

The Flydubai case raises a question beyond the immediate response: how well do aviation security systems recognise and assess the progression from extremist belief to operational preparation? If prosecutors’ account is corroborated, alleged reconnaissance and a deliberate attempt to seize the aircraft would distinguish the case from suspicion based on identity or belief. If earlier employers or authorities held relevant information, records can establish what it was, whether it was reliable, whether it could lawfully be shared and how it was handled. If no institution had actionable warning, that finding matters too. Neither incident supports collective blame against Omanis, Muslims, migrants or religious institutions. The priority is to establish what happened, identify any preventable gaps and improve the understanding of how radicalisation develops before it becomes a threat to public safety.

(The writer is an author based in Colombo)

Disclaimer: The views and opinions expressed in this article are those of the writer and do not necessarily reflect the official position of this publication.