The blast near Delhi’s Red Fort stunned investigators not only because of its location, but because of what the investigation quickly uncovered: a small cluster of medical professionals—real doctors with real patients—quietly operating as a white-collar terror module.
For many in the medical community, the arrests felt like a personal blow. These were people who had taken the same oath to save lives. Some worked in classrooms, some in clinics, some in laboratories. Yet, according to police, one among them was so deeply radicalised that he carried out what investigators believe was a suicide attack outside one of India’s most iconic monuments.
The most famous example is Ayman al-Zawahiri, the bespectacled Egyptian surgeon who became Al-Qaeda’s ideological backbone. Encyclopedic profiles describe how he began as a young, idealistic doctor volunteering in poor neighbourhoods before his worldview hardened into extremist militancy. His medical background gave him legitimacy and influence within the organisation.
Then there was Fathi Shaqaqi, the Palestinian physician who co-founded Palestinian Islamic Jihad. According to Al Jazeera’s documentation, he was drawn to politics as a student doctor, blending humanitarian frustration with radical political theory.
Similarly, George Habash, whose story Britannica records with powerful clarity, trained in medicine before founding the PFLP, a group known for international hijackings. His early years were shaped by displacement and loss; medicine and militancy lived side by side in his life.
These men did not become militants despite being doctors, their education, discipline, and status actually gave their movements structure. And that is what makes the Delhi-NCR case so troubling: the patterns echo far beyond India.
Across countries and decades, doctors have offered extremist networks something few recruits can: credibility, mobility, and specialised skills.
The story of Dr. Tareq Kamleh, an Australian paediatrician who joined ISIS, is one such example. As reported by The Guardian, Kamleh appeared in slick propaganda videos, wearing scrubs as he urged medical workers to join the so-called caliphate. His presence wasn’t an accident. ISIS used him as proof that “even doctors” believed in their cause, a psychological strategy that many analysts now understand as deliberate.
In Pakistan, the cases of Drs. Akmal and Arshad Waheed revealed yet another dimension. Reporting by Dawn shows they were indicted for sheltering and treating militants linked to Jundullah and al-Qaeda. Their medical skills reportedly helped fighters heal without entering public hospitals, shielding them from detection. One brother later died in a drone strike, his arc illustrating how deeply a medical professional can become entangled in the militant world.
Another American case Dr. Rafiq Abdus Sabir appears in court records documenting his conviction for agreeing to treat wounded al-Qaeda members. His story reminds us that radicalisation does not recognise borders, wealth, or advanced education.
Even Pakistani surgeon Amer Aziz, documented in Associated Press archival reporting, was investigated for treating Osama bin Laden and other militant leaders.
In every case, the doctor became far more than a helper, they became a trusted node in a militant network, someone with scientific knowledge, institutional respectability, and the ability to move quietly.
What makes the Delhi-NCR module stand apart is the clustering. Globally, doctor-turned-terrorist cases involve individuals acting within larger organisations.
According to Brahma Chellaney, a prominent geostrategist and strategic affairs commentator shared his thoughts on a social media platform:
“These doctors exploited the credibility of their medical profession to procure bomb materials, recruit within universities and move freely across high security zones without arousing suspicion.”
Groups of professionals do not radicalise in isolation. They influence one another, reinforce narratives, and build trust rapidly. That trust enables operational secrecy. A cluster of doctors can procure chemicals without raising eyebrows, circulate ideology in universities, and access high-security areas through professional ID cards.
In other words, their medical identities didn’t just hide the alleged operation, they enabled it.
References:
1. “Title of the Article.” Journal Name Volume Number, no. Issue Number (Year): Page range. PMC, https://pmc.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/articles/PMC1963377/.
2. Gohel, Sajjan M. Doctor, Teacher, Terrorist: The Life and Legacy of Al-Qaeda Leader Ayman al-Zawahiri. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2023. Accessed at https://academic.oup.com/book/55772.
3. Martin, Gus, ed. “Popular Front for the Liberation of Palestine.” In The SAGE Encyclopedia of Terrorism, doi:10.4135/9781412980173.n329. Accessed November 14, 2025. https://sk.sagepub.com/ency/edvol/embed/terrorism2ed/chpt/popular-front-the-liberation-palestine.
4. Gohel, Sajjan M. Doctor, Teacher, Terrorist: The Life and Legacy of Al-Qaeda Leader Ayman al-Zawahiri. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2023. Accessed at https://academic.oup.com/book/55772.
(Rh/ARC/MSM)
