Afghan Evacuee Shoots Guards Near White House—Trump Blasts Biden’s Failures

Paul Riverbank, 11/27/2025Afghan evacuee’s D.C. shooting sparks fierce debate over refugee vetting and national security lapses.

Police have since identified the shooter as Rahmanullah Lakanwal, a 29-year-old who came to the United States as part of the chaotic 2021 Afghan evacuation, a program painted at the time as both necessary and, in hindsight according to critics, hastily executed. Lakanwal’s journey from war-torn Afghanistan to Bellingham, Washington was once a story of hope—one repeated by many who found themselves caught in the frantic American airlift as Kabul fell. Suspicion, of course, didn’t follow him immediately. By all initial accounts, he faded into the fabric of daily American life. But as details trickle in, it’s emerged that his legal status expired several months ago—he was, at the time of the shooting, reportedly living in the U.S. without authorization.

The attack left both Guardsmen in critical condition—a female soldier shot in the chest and head, another badly wounded. The third responded with remarkable resolve, returning fire while chaos erupted around them. When law enforcement finally subdued Lakanwal, he was described as wounded and in a state of undress—a jarring detail in a day already full of shocks.

Officials have been cautious about drawing early conclusions. Beyond confirming Lakanwal’s identity and his path into the country, law enforcement said only that they were exploring every possibility: terrorism, personal vendetta, or something else entirely. An FBI spokesperson stood outside a roped-off intersection, fielding a volley of questions and offering few answers.

Yet almost instantly, the shooting detonated a political powder keg. For many, the uncomfortable thread connecting the attacker to Operation Allies Welcome reopened the perennial debate over national security versus America’s humanitarian promises. The evacuation effort—immense in both urgency and scale—spirited over 120,000 Afghans out of Kabul in less than three weeks. DHS Secretary Alejandro Mayorkas, fielding questions back in September 2021, promised "robust screening," and asserted that individuals with troubling backgrounds were turned away. What’s been less clear, until events like today’s, is exactly how thorough those screens were or how many warnings may have been missed.

High-profile voices wasted little time weighing in. President Biden, careful and somber, posted quickly: “Jill and I are heartbroken that two members of the National Guard were shot outside the White House..." Biden’s words focused on condemning violence—and came before the suspect’s background made headlines. In contrast, Donald Trump was more forceful and direct, calling the perpetrator an “animal” and seizing the moment to demand a top-down review of the entire resettlement process. He wasn’t alone: talk radio and cable segments erupted with debate, some calling the shooting a failure of vetting, others urging caution against blanket condemnation of Afghan refugees.

Meanwhile, D.C. Mayor Muriel Bowser labeled it a “targeted shooting” and promised an all-hands response to safeguard the capital. Not to be outdone, Pentagon officials spoke almost militantly, vowing not to be intimidated and directing additional National Guard units into the district—a stern reminder that this city is perpetually on alert.

Inside the Beltway, conversations are less about this one case and more about the systems behind it. Even advocates for resettlement, those who watched the airport chaos with horror and insisted the U.S. had a moral debt to its allies, are now navigating a wave of skepticism. One staffer from a refugee resettlement group admitted off the record, “No process is perfect. But one terrible act can undo years of goodwill and make every case look suspect.”

All this at a moment when the national mood is already unsettled—border debates grow sharper, trust in immigration procedures seems brittle, and few are in the mood for measured conversation. One can sense frustration mounting as the facts trickle out: details about Lakanwal’s background, specifics on screening failures—if any—or whether he had signaled danger signs that were overlooked or dismissed.

For now, the FBI has urged patience, declining to confirm any motive, while the city itself settles uneasily into another night ringed by barricades and news vans. The attack has left behind not just casualties, but lingering questions about the balance between security and sanctuary, and how a nation manages the promises made both to its allies and its own people. As dusk fell, the crime scene still glowed in flashing blue and red, and inside the Beltway’s ornate offices, the search for both answers and accountability had only just begun.

Thunderous sirens and a snarl of emergency vehicles shattered an otherwise steady midweek afternoon just blocks from the White House, sending startled office workers and tourists scattering in every direction. The scene near Farragut Square unfolded quickly—almost too quickly for many to process. Two National Guardsmen, on their usual patrol, were suddenly ambushed in broad daylight. Witnesses described a moment of confusion, bodies hitting the concrete, and shouts echoing off glass facades: it wasn’t immediately clear if this was an isolated attack or something much larger.Police have since identified the shooter as Rahmanullah Lakanwal, a 29-year-old who came to the United States as part of the chaotic 2021 Afghan evacuation, a program painted at the time as both necessary and, in hindsight according to critics, hastily executed. Lakanwal’s journey from war-torn Afghanistan to Bellingham, Washington was once a story of hope—one repeated by many who found themselves caught in the frantic American airlift as Kabul fell. Suspicion, of course, didn’t follow him immediately. By all initial accounts, he faded into the fabric of daily American life. But as details trickle in, it’s emerged that his legal status expired several months ago—he was, at the time of the shooting, reportedly living in the U.S. without authorization.The attack left both Guardsmen in critical condition—a female soldier shot in the chest and head, another badly wounded. The third responded with remarkable resolve, returning fire while chaos erupted around them. When law enforcement finally subdued Lakanwal, he was described as wounded and in a state of undress—a jarring detail in a day already full of shocks.Officials have been cautious about drawing early conclusions. Beyond confirming Lakanwal’s identity and his path into the country, law enforcement said only that they were exploring every possibility: terrorism, personal vendetta, or something else entirely. An FBI spokesperson stood outside a roped-off intersection, fielding a volley of questions and offering few answers.Yet almost instantly, the shooting detonated a political powder keg. For many, the uncomfortable thread connecting the attacker to Operation Allies Welcome reopened the perennial debate over national security versus America’s humanitarian promises. The evacuation effort—immense in both urgency and scale—spirited over 120,000 Afghans out of Kabul in less than three weeks. DHS Secretary Alejandro Mayorkas, fielding questions back in September 2021, promised "robust screening," and asserted that individuals with troubling backgrounds were turned away. What’s been less clear, until events like today’s, is exactly how thorough those screens were or how many warnings may have been missed.High-profile voices wasted little time weighing in. President Biden, careful and somber, posted quickly: “Jill and I are heartbroken that two members of the National Guard were shot outside the White House..." Biden’s words focused on condemning violence—and came before the suspect’s background made headlines. In contrast, Donald Trump was more forceful and direct, calling the perpetrator an “animal” and seizing the moment to demand a top-down review of the entire resettlement process. He wasn’t alone: talk radio and cable segments erupted with debate, some calling the shooting a failure of vetting, others urging caution against blanket condemnation of Afghan refugees.Meanwhile, D.C. Mayor Muriel Bowser labeled it a “targeted shooting” and promised an all-hands response to safeguard the capital. Not to be outdone, Pentagon officials spoke almost militantly, vowing not to be intimidated and directing additional National Guard units into the district—a stern reminder that this city is perpetually on alert.Inside the Beltway, conversations are less about this one case and more about the systems behind it. Even advocates for resettlement, those who watched the airport chaos with horror and insisted the U.S. had a moral debt to its allies, are now navigating a wave of skepticism. One staffer from a refugee resettlement group admitted off the record, “No process is perfect. But one terrible act can undo years of goodwill and make every case look suspect.”All this at a moment when the national mood is already unsettled—border debates grow sharper, trust in immigration procedures seems brittle, and few are in the mood for measured conversation. One can sense frustration mounting as the facts trickle out: details about Lakanwal’s background, specifics on screening failures—if any—or whether he had signaled danger signs that were overlooked or dismissed.For now, the FBI has urged patience, declining to confirm any motive, while the city itself settles uneasily into another night ringed by barricades and news vans. The attack has left behind not just casualties, but lingering questions about the balance between security and sanctuary, and how a nation manages the promises made both to its allies and its own people. As dusk fell, the crime scene still glowed in flashing blue and red, and inside the Beltway’s ornate offices, the search for both answers and accountability had only just begun.