So the FBI has, with considerable self-congratulation, announced it foiled a plot to attack a White House UFC event using snipers and drones. A man planned to rent a sniper rifle, fly drones into the presidential compound, and shoot his way through the security perimeter. The ‘target’ was a mixed martial arts spectacle, because apparently the modern presidency now serves as a promotional vehicle for cage fighting. One almost longs for the dignity of the Nixon era, when at least the scandals involved tape recordings and not the prospect of drone swarms at the Rose Garden.
Let us be clear: the fact that such a plot could be conceived, let alone nearly executed, is a damning indictment of our age. We live in an era where the most powerful office in the world treats a blood sport as a state occasion, and where the security apparatus must scramble to prevent a lone nutter (yes, the suspect was reportedly a ‘loner’ with a grudge) from turning the South Lawn into a shooting gallery. The FBI did its job, and we should be grateful. But the deeper question is this: what does it say about a civilisation when the ultimate symbol of its power hosts events that require armed guards to fend off hobbyist assassins?
Now, predictably, UK security chiefs are reviewing their own protocols. The Home Office will no doubt issue a statement about ‘vigilance’ and ‘proportionate responses’. But let me save them the trouble: the protocols are irrelevant. The rot is cultural. The UFC is a metaphor for a society that glorifies violence as entertainment, then expresses surprise when citizens take that glorification literally. The Victorians, for all their faults, would never have countenanced a prime minister attending a bare-knuckle brawl in Downing Street. They understood that the state must project dignity, not testosterone.
I can already hear the howls: ‘But Arthur, you old fogey, it’s just a sport!’ No, it is a symptom. When the White House becomes a venue for men beating each other senseless, we have crossed a line. The plot itself is secondary. The real threat is the intellectual and cultural decadence that makes such a target seem natural. We have traded reverence for revenue, ceremony for spectacle, and now we reap the whirlwind of drones and snipers.
And what of the UK? Our own security chiefs, no doubt, are running simulations of UFC events at Downing Street or Windsor Castle. They should ask themselves not how to stop a drone, but why such an event would be considered appropriate in the first place. The answer, sadly, is that we have already copied the Americans’ debasement of public life. Our politicians crave the ‘cool’ of the UFC crowd; our papers breathlessly cover the latest celebrity bouts. We mock the Victorians for their prudishness, yet they had the good sense to keep their blood sports in the East End, far from the seats of power.
In the end, this story is not about the FBI’s competence. It is about a society that has lost its sense of the sacred. The White House was once a temple of democracy. Now it is a venue for mixed martial arts, and we need snipers to protect it from other snipers. History will not be kind. And as for the UK security review, they can save the paper: the only protocol that matters is a restoration of taste. Until then, we are merely delaying the inevitable.
