It is far too late to protest what I see as the false coinage of “phobia” words — not that I will let that stop me.

We have (from some time back) francophobia; somewhat more recently, homophobia; and, most volatile and recent of them all, Islamophobia. All of these, in one form or other, are founded on a loose analogy with the genuine phobias — arachnophobia, agoraphobia or hydrophobia, for example, which speak to a morbid and irrational dread of — in the case of these terms — spiders, open spaces and water. But the new phobia words are more terms of art, than clinical descriptions.

Islamophobia is meant to be a blanket term that refers to unthinking hostility to Islam and Muslims. There is no doubt that such prejudice exists. But there is no doubt, too, that cries of “Islamophobia” are issued to suffocate argument, to deflect or deter analysis of some behaviour that is factually related to Islam. There is no doubt either that some Muslims have acted as terrorists, either singly, or in association with various Islamist groups. To point this out is not a phobia, but a simple respect for reality.

It is not Islamophobic to note the motives and background of the murderer. In fact, it is a form of cowardice and evasion not to do so.

The number-one cause of “Islamophobic” feeling in the world is not a thing, an event, a philosophy, but a person: It is the (happily) deceased Osama bin Laden. If one decries Islamophobia, then one must condemn bin Laden as its Nile source. Bin Laden, more than any other person, has besmirched the practice and understanding of Islam and engendered suspicion of some of its adherents.

There are other sources of Islamophobia as well. Horrors perpetrated in the name of fundamentalist Islam, such as attacks on young girls going to school, the internecine slaughters of various sects, the cruel penalties exacted by the Taliban’s repressive creed — stonings, amputations and executions for apostasy — also feed the angry atmosphere, and they are not phantoms of a prejudiced imagination.

But all these pale next to bin Laden himself. It was his presumption that he spoke for Islam. And to many Muslims — though, of course, not all, or even most — he was a hero .

Bin Laden’s declared purpose, his “war” on the West, and his overt linkage of his cause with a fundamentalist version of Islam, are the primary drivers of our non-phobic — which is to say, very rational — fear of, and hostility to, manifestations of Islamic fanaticism. When post-9/11 successor attacks took place, taking off from Bin Laden’s example or direction — such as in Madrid, London or Bali — it was not Islamophobia when some immediately assumed these were al Qaeda, or Islamist-inspired. It was just a natural first response, the acknowledgement of a pattern. In most cases, that first response proved correct. In fewer cases, such as Norway, it was not.

We should be clear on such matters. The too-energetic effort to fall outside the shadow of prejudice has served to distort the response of investigators. Looking for everybody else except the most “likely” suspects first, wastes time and resources. In France, for instance, the yearning for the villain to be a “far-right neo-Nazi” clouded the initial response of police. Blindness as a form of social or ethnic courtesy is never good policy.

Our most urgently served impulse should be to make common cause with the victims of violence — in this case, Jews — not to excoriate ourselves over false phobias. These killings in France were, to state the matter with strict clarity, an anti-Semitic attack by a committed jihadist. That deserves to be the primary focus. Discussions of other prejudices may wait till mourning has been given its turn.

National Post