11 Pipe Bombs in Canberra: Why the 'Not Terrorism' Label Feels Premature

Let’s be real for a second. If you found one pipe bomb on a footpath in Belconnen, you’d call it a terrifying anomaly. A prank gone wrong, perhaps. A lone weirdo with too much time and a dark web browser. But eleven? Eleven improvised explosive devices scattered like confetti along a popular walking track?

That’s not a prank. That’s a campaign.

And yet, here we are, barely 24 hours after the discovery that has turned Canberra’s north-west into a restricted zone, and we are already being told what this isn’t. "Not treated as terrorism," says ACT Policing. A comforting phrase, designed to lower the collective heart rate of the capital. But is it true? Or is it just convenient?

The "Lone Wolf" Math That Doesn't Work

We need to talk about the numbers. The sheer logistics of planting eleven devices along a one-kilometre stretch of Lake Ginninderra (without being seen, mind you) suggests a level of planning that goes beyond your average garden-variety vandal. These weren't firecrackers taped to a mailbox.

Reports indicate some had already detonated. Silence is a rare commodity in the suburbs; did no one hear them? Or were they designed to fail? The silence from the authorities on the nature of the "detonations" is deafening.

Let’s look at the breakdown of what we know versus what usually happens in these scenarios:

You don't plant eleven pipe bombs to blow up a bin. You plant them to send a message. The question is: who is the recipient?

The Rush to "De-Escalate"

Detective Acting Inspector Anna Wronski has a hard job. Managing public panic in the capital is priority number one. But there is a fine line between reassurance and obfuscation. By ruling out terrorism so quickly, authorities are implicitly suggesting this is a localized, criminal issue. A feud? A gang warning? In Canberra?

The skepticism is palpable on the streets. Locals aren't buying the "nothing to see here" vibe. If this isn't terrorism (defined as violence for political or ideological aim), then we are looking at a psychopath with an arsenal and a grudge against... joggers? The alternative is almost more disturbing.

"We do not want members of the public to pick them up... We want them to call triple zero immediately." – Det. Acting Insp. Anna Wronski

Sound advice, Inspector. But we also want to know why our public spaces are being mined. The public deserves more than safety warnings; they deserve the truth about the threat level.

The Security Blind Spot

This incident exposes a glaring vulnerability in the capital's surveillance grid. We like to think of Canberra as a fortress—the heart of government, the home of ASIS and ASIO. Yet, someone managed to turn a public park into a minefield under the nose of the establishment.

Is this a test run? A probing of response times? Or simply a display of impunity? (It certainly feels like a taunt). Until we know who built these devices and why they were placed where families walk their dogs, the "not terrorism" label is just a sticker on a cracking windshield.

For now, Belconnen holds its breath. And maybe, just maybe, we should stop pretending this is normal.