uicide bombings have always been weapons of propaganda as well as weapons of war. So when Talha Asmal, a 17-year-old from Dewsbury in West Yorkshire, blew himself up in Iraq while fighting for Islamic State (Isil), it is certain that the terrorist group was thinking not only of its objectives on the ground but also of the explosive reaction the bombing would have back in Britain. And the shockwaves have been palpable. To almost everyone in this country, the urge to commit such a murderous act of selfdestruction, especially at such a young age, is incomprehensible. But if we are to have any chance of preventing repeats, understand it we must.

Asmal’s family have been commendably forthright in unreservedly condemning Isil and its violence. In trying to explain his radicalisation, however, it is not enough simply to point the finger at the “calculated grooming of him” online. Isil, it is true, has a sophisticated grasp of social media, and how to deploy it to ensnare young people. But we cannot use this to shrug off our own responsibility. Abu Muntasir, a former leading recruiter of British jihadis, said yesterday that the best defence against grooming was parents having “more communication with their children” and “more of an overseeing aspect of how to be a good parent”.

It is not just family. From July, schools will have a new legal duty – as part of the Counter-Terrorism and Security Act 2015 – to prevent children from being drawn towards extremism. This will require them to identify those at risk and challenge abhorrent ideologies. Isil may boast some kind of twisted glamour, but when it comes to influencing impressionable young minds, no one is better placed than the families and schools that are closest to them.