he UK government’s decision to ban Palestine Action under anti-terrorism legislation has once again ignited a troubling debate over how terrorism is defined—and more importantly, who gets to be called a terrorist. The activist group, known for its direct action against companies supplying weapons to Israel, is accused of criminal damage after spraying red paint into the engines of two military planes at RAF Brize Norton. Now, with the government moving to make it a criminal offense to be a member of or support Palestine Action, many are calling the move not just disproportionate, but politically and racially motivated. Terrorism: A Label of Power, Not Principle At the heart of the controversy lies a fundamental question: What makes an act “terrorism,” and why are Muslims—and those who speak out against Western or Israeli policies—so often the ones branded with that label? The answer, critics say, lies not in legal definitions, but in the political convenience of the term. “Terrorism has become less about the act itself and more about who commits it,” said a legal analyst. “When Muslims resist, it’s ‘terror.’ When states bomb civilians or occupy land, it’s ‘defense.’” There is no shortage of evidence supporting this double standard. Western governments have long supported or turned a blind eye to the violent acts of allies—from Israel’s repeated bombardment of Gaza, to Saudi-led airstrikes in Yemen, to US and UK drone strikes across the Muslim world. These acts, which fit the textbook definition of using violence to achieve political goals, are rarely labeled terrorism. Yet when Muslim individuals or groups retaliate, resist occupation, or even just protest, they are immediately criminalized and dehumanized. The label "terrorist" is not just applied swiftly—it sticks. It frames the narrative, justifies the response, and erases the legitimacy of their cause. Palestine Action: Targeted for Their Message Palestine Action has never concealed its tactics: they are intentionally disruptive, aimed at exposing British complicity in the Israeli arms trade and in the oppression of Palestinians. By targeting facilities owned by companies like Elbit Systems and Leonardo—firms linked to supplying weapons used in Gaza—the group seeks to pressure the UK to stop profiting from war. For supporters, this is not terrorism. It is a moral obligation. And to conflate such action with violent extremism is not only misleading—it is dangerous. “The real disgrace here isn’t paint on a plane,” said a spokesperson for the group. “It’s the UK’s ongoing role in enabling war crimes, and now silencing those who speak out.” Selective Outrage, Systemic Bias The hypocrisy becomes harder to ignore when comparing the treatment of other protest movements. White environmental activists have chained themselves to runways and blocked trains. Far-right groups have violently stormed government buildings. Yet rarely do these acts trigger terror laws or full-scale government bans. But when Muslims protest, or when groups like Palestine Action take a stand for a Muslim cause, the full weight of the state is brought down. Arrests, surveillance, media demonization, and now terrorism legislation—it’s a pattern that cannot be separated from Islamophobia. This isn't about whether every action taken by activist groups is lawful or safe. It’s about consistency, and the disturbing fact that justice in the “war on terror” is neither blind nor neutral. State Violence: The Untouchable Terror If terrorism is the use of violence or intimidation to pursue political ends, then many state actions across the globe—from drone strikes to collective punishment—easily qualify. Yet these are rarely, if ever, categorized that way. States, it seems, are allowed to terrorize with impunity—so long as they claim it is in the name of security or stability. What we are witnessing is not the neutral application of law. It is a system where Muslims are guilty until proven innocent, and where resistance to oppression—especially by or on behalf of Muslims—is swiftly recast as extremism. The UK's ban on Palestine Action does not protect national security—it protects a political narrative. One where Muslim suffering is invisible, Muslim resistance is criminal, and Western complicity is off-limits. As the government prepares to formalize the ban, a larger reckoning looms: not just about Palestine, but about whose lives, voices, and struggles are allowed space in our democracies—and whose are crushed under the weight of fear, bias, and power.