Who Was Thomas Crooks? Tucker Carlson Challenges FBI’s Narrative on Trump Shooting

Thomas Crooks: The Man Behind the Rooftop in Butler, Pennsylvania

In the aftermath of the attempted assassination of President Donald Trump in Butler, Pennsylvania, one name has taken center stage in a growing storm of controversy: Thomas Crooks. For many, Crooks was initially a cipher—a young man whose motives seemed as murky as his presence on that rooftop. But in a recent video that has already forced federal authorities onto the defensive, Tucker Carlson argues that the truth about Crooks is both simpler and more unsettling than early reports suggested.

Challenging the Official Narrative: Carlson’s Claims

According to Carlson, the story begins not with the shooting itself, but with the persistent efforts of federal law enforcement to control the narrative. The FBI, now under Trump’s second-term leadership and headed by figures like Kash Patel and Dan Bongino, has repeatedly insisted there was “no evidence of advance warnings” about Crooks’ intentions. Yet, Carlson contends, this statement came only hours before his own video dropped—an unusual, almost preemptive move from the Bureau that suggests unease within the ranks.

Carlson’s case hinges on Crooks’ digital footprint. Far from being a left-wing radical or an ideologically ambiguous figure, Crooks, according to archived posts and forum activity, was deeply immersed in far-right conspiratorial culture. His online praise for fringe-right influencers, obsession with “Deep State traitors,” and repeated declarations that Trump was “the only one fighting for us” paint a portrait of a young man radicalized by the very political ecosystem Trump once harnessed.

Yet, as Carlson notes, something shifted. For reasons still unclear, Crooks turned against the very figure he once supported. The resulting tragedy, Carlson argues, was not the act of an outsider but of someone whose grievances were born inside the same echo chamber that propelled Trump to national prominence.

Witnesses, Warnings, and the FBI Timeline

If the question of Crooks’ motive is complicated, the sequence of events leading up to the shooting is, in Carlson’s telling, even more fraught. Multiple rallygoers reported seeing Crooks on the rooftop minutes before Trump took the stage, some noting his backpack and rangefinder. These concerns were allegedly relayed to authorities, but, as Carlson underscores, “nothing happened.” The implication is stark: federal officials did not simply fail to protect Trump, but actively began to “conceal how badly they’d failed.”

Carlson points to shifting FBI statements regarding Crooks’ motives—initially described as nonpolitical, then revised to acknowledge searches for both Trump and Biden. For Carlson, these changes aren’t just bureaucratic corrections; they are signs of a narrative being “reverse-engineered,” not disclosed. He questions why witnesses who saw Crooks before the shooting have been omitted from the official timeline, and why local law enforcement concerns were allegedly overridden.

Internal Divisions: Trump’s Team and the Security Debate

What makes Carlson’s critique especially provocative is his choice of targets. Rather than focusing solely on the Biden-era FBI, Carlson directly accuses Trump-appointed FBI Director Christopher Wray, alongside national-security veterans Kash Patel and Dan Bongino, of perpetuating a flawed narrative. Both Patel and Bongino have defended the agencies’ actions—Patel stating that “proper protocol” was followed, Bongino arguing the rooftop “may not have been a legitimate threat at the time.” Their public support is politically significant, given their conservative credentials and prior service under Trump.

This, Carlson suggests, is the heart of the issue: If the narrative is suspect, then Trump’s own security apparatus may be complicit. The idea that the system’s flaws predate Biden and persisted under Trump challenges the assumptions of many in Carlson’s audience—and raises uncomfortable questions about accountability at the highest levels.

Unanswered Questions and Public Distrust

In classic fashion, Carlson closes his investigation with a series of pointed questions—rhetorical but loaded with accusation. Why were warnings about Crooks ignored? Why does the FBI’s timeline omit key witnesses? Who overrode local law enforcement concerns? Why has the Bureau’s account shifted so often? And, most crucially, who benefited from the security failure that nearly cost a former president his life?

These questions, though framed as neutral inquiries, cast a shadow over both the official investigation and the broader machinery of federal security. The message is clear: the public should not accept easy answers, regardless of which administration is in power.

For those seeking certainty, Carlson offers little beyond skepticism. His video has forced the FBI and Trump’s own security team to respond, but whether it leads to greater transparency or only deepens public mistrust remains to be seen.

In reviewing the facts and Carlson’s arguments, what emerges is not just a debate about Thomas Crooks or one failed security operation, but a broader reckoning with institutional accountability. When political allegiances shift and even trusted figures face scrutiny, the public’s demand for genuine transparency becomes more urgent than ever. The Crooks case is a stark reminder: real trust cannot survive on unanswered questions alone.