Rep. Nancy Mace’s escalating attacks on Muslim Americans may not reflect a spontaneous transformation in her beliefs, two journalists argued Saturday. Instead, they described the rhetoric as a calculated political strategy designed to generate attention, frighten voters and advance her career.

The South Carolina Republican has intensified her anti-Muslim messaging since Abdul El-Sayed won Michigan’s Democratic Senate primary earlier this month, according to MS NOW host Jacob Soboroff.

In one television appearance, Mace described Muslim candidates as national-security threats.

“We have jihadists being elected all over the place,” she declared. “You should use the word jihadist because that’s what’s happening.”

No evidence was presented that El-Sayed is a jihadist, supports violent extremism or represents a militant threat to the United States.

Using the term against a Muslim political candidate appears to conflate his religion or heritage with terrorism—a tactic critics say is designed to make voters fear him rather than evaluate his policies.

Soboroff described Mace’s comments as “disgusting.” He also declined to repeat some of her other statements on the air because he considered them too “deranged.”

Journalist Mehdi Hasan, founder of Zeteo, argued that the outbursts should not be dismissed as impulsive or irrational.

He believes they reflect an intentional political choice.

“She knows right from wrong,” Hasan said. “She chooses wrong.”

“She chooses to red-pill herself, radicalize herself, whatever you want to call it.”

That interpretation cannot be established as fact without evidence of Mace’s private thinking. Mace has not publicly admitted that she is using anti-Muslim rhetoric she does not actually believe.

But Hasan pointed to her own history as evidence that her current posture may be opportunistic.

Only a few years ago, Mace appeared on television and criticized fellow Republican Reps. Lauren Boebert and Marjorie Taylor Greene for making anti-Muslim statements.

“Nancy Mace is an interesting example because a few years back … she went on TV and condemned Lauren Boebert and Marjorie Taylor Greene in her own party for being anti-Muslim,” Hasan said.

The contrast is stark.

A politician who once publicly recognized anti-Muslim attacks as unacceptable is now deploying similar rhetoric against a Democratic candidate at a moment when national attention is focused on a critical Senate race.

“The Islamophobia we’re seeing is not organic,” Hasan argued. “It is used cynically by Republicans to advance their careers, their agendas, to distract from failing economic policies and a disastrous war.”

Hasan’s statement represents political analysis, not a proven finding about the motivations of every Republican using such language.

Nevertheless, the timing supports questions about coordination.

El-Sayed’s victory placed a Muslim progressive at the center of one of the country’s most consequential midterm contests. Republicans seeking to define him quickly have emphasized his identity and full name while attempting to associate him with extremism.

Hasan argued that repeatedly using El-Sayed’s complete name—rather than the shorter form by which he commonly identifies himself—echoes a strategy Donald Trump used against Barack Obama.

For years, Trump repeatedly emphasized the former president’s middle name, Hussein, while promoting or benefiting from false suspicions that Obama was secretly Muslim or foreign-born.

Obama is a Christian and was born in Hawaii. Yet the tactic exploited post-9/11 prejudice by presenting a foreign-sounding name as inherently threatening.

“That is really dangerous,” Hasan said of the apparent revival of the strategy.

Names and religious identities are not evidence of political extremism. “Jihad” also has several meanings within Islam and cannot responsibly be used as a blanket label for Muslims participating in democratic elections.

Mace’s comments threaten to blur those distinctions deliberately.

The political benefits are obvious. Provocative statements generate television appearances, social-media engagement and fundraising opportunities. They can also shift public discussion away from economic conditions, health care, war or the governing record of the president’s party.

The risks extend far beyond campaign messaging.

Muslim Americans already face threats, harassment and discrimination. When elected officials portray ordinary Muslim candidates as terrorists without evidence, they can intensify public hostility against an entire religious community.

Mace is entitled to criticize El-Sayed’s platform, political alliances and suitability for office. She can challenge his health-care proposals, economic policies or positions on foreign affairs.

Calling him a “jihadist” without evidence is not a policy argument.

It is an accusation built around identity.

Hasan’s larger point is that the public should not assume every inflammatory outburst represents authentic conviction. Sometimes political figures adopt more extreme positions because outrage has become a profitable route to influence.

Mace’s earlier condemnation of anti-Muslim rhetoric does not conclusively reveal what she believes today. People can genuinely change their views.

But it forces a question she has yet to answer convincingly: Was she wrong when she defended Muslims from members of her own party—or is she abandoning that principle now because fear has become politically useful?

According to Hasan, Mace understands the difference.

The disturbing possibility is that she simply decided there was more power in choosing the other side.