Terror Interrupted: Courage in the Skies
Last week — just days before Israel’s day of mourning for the October 7 attacks — a new terror plot was interrupted mid‑air. According to eyewitness accounts, a FlyDubai copilot allegedly attempted to crash a passenger plane into Ben Gurion Airport. Captain Smit Machchhar, an Indian aviator, fought him off despite being seriously injured. The aircraft plunged thousands of feet in under a minute before Machchhar regained control long enough for an off‑duty crew member to help stabilize the Boeing 737 MAX 8 and guide it to an emergency landing — saving roughly 200 souls, including many children, and untold numbers on the ground.
Israeli officials later described how passengers rushed forward to help subdue the attacker, including Yaniv Hayoun, an everyday Israeli who stepped into extraordinary circumstances. Their collective bravery — captain, crew, and civilians — stopped what authorities say could have been a deliberate attempt to crash the plane.
The world has reacted: U.S. Ambassador Mike Huckabee called it a “miracle,” and both Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu and Indian Prime Minister Narendra Modi praised Machchhar’s “immense courage” and “unwavering resolve,” noting that his actions prevented a mass‑casualty disaster. Machchhar will receive Israel’s highest honor.
Authorities in Israel and the UAE have confirmed that the copilot — an Omani national — is under active investigation as officials work to determine motive, possible ideological influences, and whether extremist content played any role in the alleged attack. Many have compared the bravery of the passengers to those aboard Flight 93 on 9/11, who stopped terrorists from flying their plane into the White House or the Capitol.
This near‑disaster, occurring just before the third anniversary of October 7, is not only a security story — it is a psychological one. Terrorism is designed to destabilize the public’s sense of safety, to create fear in ordinary moments, and to erode trust in the systems that protect us. When an alleged attack is thwarted so close to a national day of mourning, it reminds us that danger persists — but also that courage can interrupt terror’s psychological advantage.
As a Jew and a psychiatrist who has spent decades treating victims of terrorism, I have seen how terror reshapes the human mind — and how the world continues to underestimate the danger. I traveled to Israel shortly after the October 7 attacks, meeting citizens still processing the shock and grief of that day. Their pain was overwhelming, but their resilience was extraordinary.
Last month, I attended the National September 11 Memorial & Museum event in New York City, standing with survivors and first responders who know what it means to live with trauma that never fully heals. Two weeks ago, during the United Nations General Assembly, I sponsored a mobile billboard truck in New York City to remind world leaders that terrorism is not a distant geopolitical concept — it is a daily threat that demands moral clarity.
The FlyDubai incident underscores that point. Terrorists and other bad actors — including groups like Hamas, a U.S.-designated terrorist organization responsible for severe harm, loss of life, and human rights violations — rely on psychological dominance. But when individuals fight back, as they did aboard Flight 93, the entire equation changes.
In my earlier Times of Israel column, I wrote that the world still does not understand trauma — or terror. Too many leaders minimize the threat, rewrite the meaning of October 7, or treat terrorism as a political talking point rather than a human catastrophe.
On this anniversary, the world owes Israel more than remembrance. It owes honesty. It owes vigilance. And it owes the moral courage to confront terrorism without euphemisms, denial, or political filters.
The danger is real. The trauma is ongoing. And the world must stop pretending otherwise. As Israel mourns, President Isaac Herzog reminded the world: “We must fight terror together.”
Israel is certainly leading by example, as the spearhead of the world’s moral compass.
