America is talking about peace.
Peace agreements. New alliances. Normalization. Economic partnerships. Reconstruction. Diplomacy replacing decades of bloodshed. And then there is the news.
On Thursday, President Donald Trump traveled to Texas. On that very same day, authorities say, a man had allegedly planned a violent attack on the Texas State Capitol in Austin.
The two events are not known to be connected, and authorities have not said Trump was a target. That distinction matters. But so does the timing.
According to the Texas Department of Public Safety, authorities received credible information Tuesday night that 40-year-old Benny Caldera Jr. was allegedly planning a violent attack on the Capitol for Oct. 1. A SWAT team arrested him early Wednesday morning. He was initially charged with making a terroristic threat against a public servant and was later taken into federal custody.
Another plot stopped. Another potential headline that, thankfully, never became a body count.
And another uncomfortable question: At a moment when America is investing extraordinary political capital in trying to create peace around the world, why does it still feel as though America, its institutions and its closest allies remain under attack?
Look at what happened just one day earlier.
Flydubai Flight 1073 left Dubai bound for Tel Aviv on Wednesday with more than 170 people aboard. According to Israeli officials, one pilot stabbed the other and attempted to bring down the aircraft. Flight data showed the plane plunging more than 14,000 feet in less than 30 seconds before passengers and crew intervened. The aircraft eventually landed safely in Saudi Arabia. The United Arab Emirates is investigating whether the incident was connected to terrorism.
Think about the geography of that sentence.
A plane takes off from the United Arab Emirates for Israel, two countries whose relationship became possible through the Abraham Accords. Israelis aboard the flight reportedly helped stop the catastrophe. The damaged aircraft lands in Saudi Arabia, another country central to Washington’s efforts to reshape the Middle East.
It is almost a map of the new Middle East America has spent years trying to build. And someone allegedly tried to bring the plane down.
That is the contradiction we need to confront.
The United States has made diplomacy and dealmaking central to its foreign policy. The Trump administration points to American involvement in agreements or ceasefires involving Armenia and Azerbaijan, Rwanda and the Democratic Republic of Congo, Cambodia and Thailand, Israel and Iran, and Gaza. Some of those arrangements remain incomplete or fragile, and fighting has continued in some places. But the diplomatic effort itself is undeniable.
The administration has also invested heavily in a plan for Gaza built around demilitarization, reconstruction, and an international stabilization force.
The theory is straightforward: Use American strength to make continued conflict more costly and cooperation more rewarding.
But peace between governments does not automatically mean peace among people.
A signature does not deradicalize an extremist. A trade agreement does not erase an ideology. A diplomatic handshake does not convince someone who has been taught to hate America, Jews, Israel, or Western democracy that coexistence is suddenly preferable.
The FBI itself has warned that international terrorist organizations continue to pose an immediate threat to the homeland. It has specifically said ISIS continues to seek opportunities to attack the United States and American interests, while al Qaeda and its affiliates continue encouraging attacks. The bureau has also warned of threats from domestic violent extremists motivated by a range of ideologies.
And the cases are not theoretical.
In August, federal prosecutors charged an Albany woman in an alleged ISIS-inspired plot to bomb the New York State Capitol. Prosecutors say she wanted to kill lawmakers and damage the American political system. She was arrested after taking possession of what she believed was an explosive device. The allegations remain unproven, and she is presumed innocent.
In September, federal authorities charged a 21-year-old Pennsylvania man after investigators alleged that he sought a weapon and ammunition in connection with an ISIS-related terrorism plan. He, too, is presumed innocent.
Earlier this year, federal prosecutors charged five men in connection with an alleged plot to attack government officials and others attending a UFC event at the White House. According to the Justice Department, investigators recovered firearms and tactical equipment while disrupting the alleged plan. Those defendants are also presumed innocent unless convicted.
And the threats are not limited to jihadi terrorism.
Just last month, the Justice Department unsealed charges against five people it says were working for Russian intelligence services in a network that allegedly sought to recruit people to conduct surveillance and killings inside the U.S.
Different actors. Different ideologies. Different motivations.
The common denominator is the target: the American system and the people or institutions protected by it. Perhaps that is the piece we miss when we talk about peace.
We tend to imagine peace as an agreement between two parties. Stop shooting. Sign the paper. Open the border. Start trading. Shake hands for the cameras.
Those things matter enormously. But there is another battle that treaties cannot settle. It is the battle over what America represents.
For all of our internal divisions, America still represents a particular proposition to much of the world: that people of different religions and backgrounds can live under the same laws; that political disagreements are settled through elections rather than bombs; that people can worship openly; that citizens can criticize their government; that yesterday’s enemy can become tomorrow’s trading partner.
Those ideas have enemies. And no peace summit can make them disappear overnight.
This is not an argument against diplomacy. It is an argument for understanding its limits.
America should continue pursuing peace agreements. It should continue building relationships between countries that once refused to sit in the same room. It should continue creating economic incentives that make war less attractive.
But the pursuit of peace abroad cannot become complacency about security at home.
There is a difference between wanting peace and assuming everyone else wants it too.
That distinction has been written into American history before.
This year, we marked 25 years since Sept. 11, 2001. Nearly 3,000 people went to work, boarded airplanes, and kissed their families goodbye that morning, believing they were living in a country at peace. The people who attacked them did not share that belief.
Twenty-five years later, America is again trying to imagine something larger than endless conflict. There is something profoundly hopeful about that.
But hope cannot require blindness.
Wednesday, passengers on a plane bound for Israel reportedly fought to save the aircraft from falling out of the sky. Thursday, Texas authorities say they stopped an alleged attack on the state Capitol before it happened.
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Those stories should not convince us that peace is impossible. They should remind us what peace actually requires.
It requires diplomacy. It requires alliances. It requires strength. And it requires the courage to recognize that even while America reaches out its hand to build a more peaceful world, there will still be people determined to strike it.
Ariella Noveck is a journalist specializing in antisemitism and Middle East affairs, with extensive experience covering Jewish communities worldwide. She can be followed on X and Instagram @AriellaNoveck.