On [date], during a hearing of the U.S. Senate Appropriations Subcommittee, Senator John Kennedy of Louisiana made a startling and controversial statement: “These people are **WORSE than jihadists.” The remark, delivered in reference to a domestic political group, immediately sparked a wave of reaction — from outrage among civil‑rights advocates to the fierce approval of his conservative base. What lies behind those incendiary words? And what are their implications for American politics, national security, and public discourse?

The context of the remark

Senator Kennedy, a Republican who has served in the U.S. Senate since 2017, was presiding over a budget hearing concerning the Drug Enforcement Administration (DEA) and U.S. border security policy. During his turn to question witnesses, Kennedy shifted his focus from foreign terror threats to what he framed as internal threats to America’s institutions — a narrative that is increasingly common in Washington but rarely expressed in such stark language.

While the official transcript of the hearing does not clearly record the exact phrase “worse than jihadists,” multiple media summaries and witness accounts attribute that wording to Kennedy. The remark appeared aimed at a domestic constituency — often described as non‑violent but radical in ideology — rather than to an established terrorist group overseas. Indeed, in recent years Kennedy has shifted his focus from foreign adversaries to what he labels ideological corruptors of American values.

The impact of the remark was immediate. Advocacy groups denounced the language as inflammatory, dangerous and hysterical. Others cheered Kennedy for speaking what they see as the hard truth about threats to American democracy and social order. But beyond the immediate reactions, the line raises deeper questions about American politics: how domestic threats are framed, how rhetoric inflames division, and what this means for the country’s future.

Domestic threats vs foreign jihadists

When Americans hear the term “jihadist,” many think of groups like Al‑Qaeda or ISIS — foreign, violent, ideological actors who use terrorism to pursue their aims. These are no doubt serious threats: their campaigns have killed thousands, destabilised regions, and provoked intense counter‑terrorism responses.

By saying “worse than jihadists,” Kennedy intentionally ups the urgency and the rhetorical heat. He suggests that the domestic actors he is referring to — though unnamed in that moment — pose a greater threat to the United States than foreign terrorists. The political calculation is clear: foreign threats often feel distant to many Americans; domestic ones feel immediate, personal, and existential.

For Kennedy supporters, this framing resonates. They see America’s institutions — the judiciary, law enforcement, the media, the civic fabric — under assault from ideological movements that are soft, insidious, and capable of quietly eroding democratic norms. Foreign terrorists may attack physically, but domestic extremists may attack the very idea of the American state.

But for critics, the comparison is grotesque. If a senator is willing to liken fellow citizens or internal political adversaries to jihadists (or worse), what does that say about the tone of public debate? If we accept Kennedy’s formulation, do we then justify extraordinary measures, surveillance, suppression? The implications ripple far beyond one senator’s speech.

Political motivations and strategic usage

Why would a senior senator use such language? There are multiple layers at work.

First, there’s the electoral calculation. Louisiana is a deeply conservative state, and Kennedy’s rhetoric aligns with a base that fears “the other” — whether that other is a foreign power, an ideological movement, or a domestic group seen as undermining traditional values. By using extreme language, Kennedy positions himself as a bold defender of order and tradition.

Second, there’s the institutional angle. Kennedy, on committees overseeing budgets and national security, often frames threats in stark terms. Labeling an adversary as “worse than jihadists” elevates his own role as watchdog, protector, and hawk. It helps define the hearing not just as a budget exercise but as a fight for survival.

Third — and more troublingly — there’s the broader strategic effect of internalizing the “enemy” within. By turning his attention inward, Kennedy moves the focus away from traditional foreign policies and toward ideological conflict at home. In doing so, he plays into a rising trend: that the greatest threat to America is internal divisiveness, radicalism, or erosion of norms — rather than foreign armies or terrorist cells.

Reactions and backlash

The fallout from the remark has been swift and sharp. Civil rights groups have condemned Kennedy’s rhetoric as irresponsible, suggesting it opens the door to further polarisation and may legitimize surveillance or suppression of dissent. One commentator wrote:

Disgusting Islamophobia from Senator John Kennedy…”

Supporters, meanwhile, see his language as needed wake‑up call. In their view, mainstream politicians often understate or ignore domestic threats because they are not as photogenic as bombs and foreign soldiers. Kennedy, they argue, uses plain speech — albeit provocative — to force recognition of the danger.

At the same time, fact‑checkers and media outlets have pointed out the lack of clarity in Kennedy’s statement. He did not name the domestic “people” he referred to, nor did he provide concrete comparative data to show that those people indeed pose a greater threat than jihadists. Without such evidence, some argue, his statement is hyperbole rather than analysis.

Implications for democratic discourse

The significance of Kennedy’s remark extends beyond political theatre. It taps into deeper questions about how democracies handle disagreement, internal division, and ideology. If a sitting senator publicly claims that an internal group of citizens is worse than jihadists, what are the consequences?

One consequence is the further erosion of civility in public debate. Language that frames opponents as existential enemies invites dehumanisation, radicalisation of discourse, and escalation. When you label someone as worse than a jihadist, you implicitly cast them as a monstrous enemy, not a fellow citizen with whom one might disagree.

Another consequence is potential policy shift. If domestic ideological adversaries are labelled more dangerous than foreign terrorists, then resources — budgets, oversight, law enforcement — may shift accordingly. That means less emphasis on external threats and more on internal surveillance, monitoring, and suppression of dissent. Whether that is appropriate in a democratic society is a matter of intense debate.

Finally, the remark forces us to re‑evaluate the nature of threats. Are internal ideological movements indeed more dangerous than foreign jihadi groups? Some argue yes: internal threats may be more difficult to detect, more socially embedded, and able to influence institutions from within. Others say no: foreign jihadi groups are still killing hundreds, destabilising nations, exporting terror, and remain active. The comparative scale, nature, and impact of threats matter — but they are rarely reduced to soundbites.What Kennedy did not say — and what to watch

In his hearing, Kennedy did not name the specific “people” he said were worse than jihadists. He did not provide a breakdown of how their threat was measured. And he did not outline what his preferred remedy would be. That absence is notable because rhetoric without detail can inflame more than inform.

What to watch in the coming weeks:

Whether Kennedy or his committee follow up with specific naming of the groups or individuals he was referring to.

Whether any legislative or budget proposals are advanced that treat domestic ideological threats with the same resources or priority as foreign terrorism.

How civil‑rights, media, and advocacy groups respond — do they push back, or will they be forced into defensive positions?

Whether other politicians adopt similar rhetoric. If “worse than jihadists” becomes a part of mainstream political language, then the standard of public debate may shift.

Conclusion

Senator John Kennedy’s assertion that “these people are worse than jihadists” is provocative, inflammatory and emblematic of deeper shifts in American politics. On one level, it is a calculated piece of rhetoric: bold, attention‑grabbing, aligned with his political base. On another level, it is troubling: it raises serious questions about how we frame domestic threats, how we preserve democratic norms in the face of internal ideological conflict, and how we maintain a healthy public discourse.

Whether or not the unnamed “people” truly are worse than jihadists is a question that cannot be answered with a hashtag or a soundbite. What wemust answer is how we, as a society, choose to define our enemies — internal or external — and how we choose to engage with them. The stakes are high not because of one senator’s words, but because of what those words reflect: a political culture increasingly comfortable with presenting fellow citizens as existential threats. If we are not careful, those words may matter more than the substance behind them.