DISTANCE insulated us from the worst traumas of last week's attacks on London. But the aftershocks have hit much closer to home. Today we are struggling to absorb an unthinkable fact: the bombers had Yorkshire accents.

Two out of the four men said to be behind the murderous blitz were from Leeds, another was from Dewsbury. Suddenly the horrors of 200 miles away arrive on our doorstep.

All our comforting stereotypes were invalidated in the same instant. The London carnage was delivered not by a foreign fanatic, frothing with undisguised hatred for our Western decadence.

Instead, it was brought about by a cricket-loving sports science graduate, a "nice lad" not yet out of his teens, and two of their friends.

They were born and brought up in Yorkshire, attended Yorkshire schools, kicked a ball on Yorkshire streets. Like so many other young people from our region, they travelled to London by train and arrived at King's Cross. But they journeyed not in hope, but in hate.

Who turned them from ordinary kids to fanatical murderers? Who placed within them the desire to wreak twisted revenge against their own country?

The same people who are now smiling to see the moronic backlash against Yorkshire's many peace-loving Muslims. That is all part of their destructive vision.

They reclined in safety as their human sacrifices destroyed themselves along with people of every faith and none. Their capture is now Britain's first priority.

Updated: 12:08 Wednesday, July 13, 2005