concurring:
I agree that the magistrate judge correctly certified pursuant to 18 U.S.C.A. § 3184 (West Supp.2006) that Ordinola may be surrendered to Peru under the terms of the Extradition Treaty between the United States and Peru. Accordingly, I concur in the result reached by the majority opinion vacating the grant of habeas relief by the district court and directing reentry of the certification of extraditability. Because I would follow a different *606analytical approach, however, I write separately.
I.
The Judiciary’s Limited Role in International Extradition Cases
Extradition is “the surrender by one nation to another of an individual accused or convicted of an offense outside of its own territory, and within the territorial jurisdiction of the other [nation], which ... demands the surrender.” Terlinden v. Ames, 184 U.S. 270, 289, 22 S.Ct. 484, 46 L.Ed. 534 (1902). There is no general duty under international law, however, for a sovereign nation to surrender an accused fugitive upon demand. See Factor v. Laubenheimer, 290 U.S. 276, 287, 54 S.Ct. 191, 78 L.Ed. 315 (1933). The right of one sovereign to demand that another sovereign extradite an accused criminal arises, if at all, by treaty; thus, no duty to surrender an alleged fugitive to a foreign government exists apart from an extradition treaty. See id.; see also United States v. Alvarez-Machain, 504 U.S. 655, 664, 112 S.Ct. 2188, 119 L.Ed.2d 441 (1992) (“Extradition treaties exist so as to impose mutual obligations to surrender individuals in certain defined sets of circumstances, following established procedures.”).
Because extradition is a creature of treaty, “the power to extradite derives from the President’s power to conduct foreign affairs.” Sidali v. INS, 107 F.3d 191, 194 (3d Cir.1997); see U.S. Const, art. II, § 2, cl. 2. Extradition, therefore, is an executive function rather than a judicial one. See, e.g., Martin v. Warden, 993 F.2d 824, 828 (11th Cir.1993). It involves a “diplomatic process carried out through the powers of the executive, not the judicial, branch.” Blaxland v. Commonwealth Dir. of Pub. Prosecutions, 323 F.3d 1198, 1207 (9th Cir.2003). The decision to extradite is one that is “entirely within the discretion of the executive branch, except to the extent that the statute interposes a judicial function.” Lopez-Smith v. Hood, 121 F.3d 1322, 1326 (9th Cir.1997).
Still, the judiciary plays a limited role in the overall extradition process, as prescribed by Congress in the Extradition Act. See 18 U.S.C.A. §§ 3181-3186 (West 2000 & Supp.2006); see Sidali, 107 F.3d at 194 (“[T]he judiciary has no greater role than that mandated by the Constitution, or granted to the judiciary by Congress.” (internal quotation marks omitted)). The essential function served by an extradition court under the statute is “to determin[e] an individual’s eligibility to be extradited,” meaning that the court must “ascertain[ ] whether a crime is extraditable under the relevant treaty and whether probable cause exists to sustain the charge.” Vo v. Benov, 447 F.3d 1235, 1245 (9th Cir.), cert. denied, — U.S. —, 127 S.Ct. 317, 166 L.Ed.2d 238 (2006). A primary purpose of the extradition statute is to “interpos[e] the judiciary between the executive and the individual,” Austin v. Healey, 5 F.3d 598, 604 (2d Cir.1993), as well as provide a means of “independent review” of executive action. Martin, 993 F.2d at 828. The extradition court’s statutory inquiry is simply a “preliminary examination to determine whether a case is made out which will justify the holding of the accused and his surrender to the demanding nation.” Lo Duca v. United States, 93 F.3d 1100, 1104 (2d Cir.1996) (internal quotation marks omitted). Therefore, the “judicial officer who conducts an extradition hearing ... performs an assignment in line with his or her accustomed task of determining if there is probable cause to hold a defendant to answer for the commission of an offense.” Id. (internal quotation marks omitted); cf. In re McMullen, 989 F.2d 603, 611 (2d Cir.1993) (en banc) (“What is at issue in the proceeding ... is not pun-ishability but prosecutability.” (internal quotation marks omitted)). Thus, there is *607no direct appeal from the extradition court’s determination that an individual is or is not subject to extradition habeas corpus provides the only means of review. See Eain v. Wilkes, 641 F.2d 504, 508-09 (7th Cir.1981).
Ultimately, the decision whether to surrender a person found eligible for extradition remains a discretionary one committed to the executive branch. The judiciary has no power to order the extradition of the alleged fugitive. After the extradition court completes its limited inquiry, the executive, through the Secretary of State, makes a discretionary decision whether extradition, although permissible under the statute, is appropriate based on “factors affecting both the individual defendant as well as foreign relations in deciding whether extradition is appropriate.” Hoxha v. Levi 465 F.3d 554, 563 (3d Cir.2006) (internal quotation marks omitted).
In addition to the limits established by statute, federal courts have developed various self-limiting principles that “ensure, among other things, that the judicial inquiry does not unnecessarily impinge upon executive prerogative and expertise.” United States v. Kin-Hong, 110 F.3d 103, 110 (1st Cir.1997). These judicially-created doctrines keep extradition courts within the bounds of the limited judicial inquiry set by statute and serve as a barrier to the expansion of the judiciary’s role through habeas review.
One such limiting doctrine, for example, is the rule of non-inquiry, pursuant to which courts refrain from delving into and assessing the competence of the requesting government’s system of justice. See id. at 110-11. Questions about the procedural fairness of another sovereign’s justice system or whether the individual to-be-surrendered faces inhumane treatment are within the purview of the executive branch. See id. at 111 (“It is not that questions about what awaits the relator in the requesting country are irrelevant to extradition; it is that there is another branch of government, which has both final say and greater discretion in these proceedings, to whom these questions are more properly addressed.”). Likewise, it is a question for the executive branch, not the courts, whether the requesting nation is sincere in its demand for extradition or is merely using the process as a subterfuge to exact revenge against an opponent of the government. See Eain, 641 F.2d at 513. The rule of non-inquiry, then, “serves interests of international comity by relegating to political actors the sensitive foreign policy judgments that are often involved in the question of whether to refuse an extradition request.” Hoxha, 465 F.3d at 563.
Courts also assume a deferential posture when it comes to determining the existence or continuing validity of an extradition treaty on the grounds that such questions are essentially political. See id. at 562. Courts accord the executive branch’s construction of a treaty “great weight,” Kin-Hong, 110 F.3d at 110, largely because the executive branch wrote and negotiated the document being interpreted, see In re Howard, 996 F.2d 1320, 1330 n. 6 (1st Cir.1993).
In sum, federal courts — whether it be a magistrate judge serving as the extradition court or a district judge sitting in habe-as — are tasked with resolving a single issue — does the purported fugitive appear to be eligible for extradition under the relevant treaty?
Extradition Proceedings under 18 U.S.C. § sm
Extradition in the United States is generally initiated by the submission of an extradition request from a foreign government to the United States Department of State, pursuant to the relevant treaty. See Barapind v. Reno, 225 F.3d 1100, 1105 *608(9th Cir.2000). This request must generally “be supported by sufficient evidence to show that the individual is the person sought for the crimes charged, that the crimes are among those listed as extraditable offenses in the Treaty and that there is sufficient justification for the individual’s arrest had the charged crime been committed in the United States.” Eain, 641 F.2d at 508. The State Department makes an initial evaluation to determine whether the request falls within the scope of the treaty, see Vo, 447 F.3d at 1237, and then turns the matter over to the appropriate United States Attorney for the filing of a complaint seeking a certificate of extradition under 18 U.S.C.A. § 3184, see Eain, 641 F.2d at 508.
From that point, the U.S. Attorney essentially represents the foreign government seeking return of the alleged fugitive in all extradition litigation. The statute directs the U.S. Attorney to submit the complaint for an arrest warrant “under oath” to an extradition officer, i.e., “any justice or judge of the United States, or any magistrate authorized ... by a court of the United States.” 18 U.S.C.A. § 3184. In practice, this is generally a magistrate judge who holds a limited “hearing to determine whether (1) the crime is extraditable; and (2) there is probable cause to sustain the charge.” Prasoprat v. Benov, 421 F.3d 1009, 1012 (9th Cir.2005) (internal quotation marks omitted), cert. denied, — U.S. —, 126 S.Ct. 1335, 164 L.Ed.2d 51 (2006); see 18 U.S.C.A. § 3184. The extradition hearing, of course, “ ‘is not ... in the nature of a final trial by which the prisoner could be convicted or acquitted of the crime charged against him.’ ” LoDuca, 93 F.3d at 1104 (quoting Benson v. McMahon, 127 U.S. 457, 463, 8 S.Ct. 1240, 32 L.Ed. 234 (1888)). Stated differently, the hearing is “not designed as a full trial” but as a means of “inquiring] into the presence of probable cause to believe that there has been a violation of one or more of the criminal laws of the extraditing country.” Peroff v. Hylton, 542 F.2d 1247, 1249 (4th Cir.1976); see Eain, 641 F.2d at 508 (“It is fundamental that the person whose extradition is sought is not entitled to a full trial at the magistrate’s probable cause hearing. ... That is the task of the ... courts of the other country.”).
Although the extradition statute does not mention “probable cause” and instead directs the extradition court to determine whether there is “evidence sufficient to sustain the charge under the provisions of the proper treaty or convention,” 18 U.S.C.A. § 3184, courts have uniformly interpreted the statutory language to require a finding of “probable cause.” See Vo, 447 F.3d at 1237; Sidali, 107 F.3d at 195. Thus, “[t]he probable cause standard applicable to an extradition hearing is the same as the standard used in federal preliminary hearings,” meaning that the magistrate judge’s role is merely “to determine whether there is competent evidence to justify holding the accused to await trial.” Hoxha, 465 F.3d at 561 (internal quotation marks omitted). In that vein, the evidence considered by the magistrate as part of an extradition hearing “need not meet the standards for admissibility at trial” and “may be based upon hearsay in whole or in part.” Kin-Hong, 110 F.3d at 120 (internal quotation marks omitted).
Not only are the admissibility standards relaxed, but the alleged fugitive’s ability to challenge the government’s evidence or to submit evidence of his own at the extradition hearing is also significantly limited. For example, the fugitive has no right to cross-examine witnesses, see Oen Yin-Choy v. Robinson, 858 F.2d 1400, 1406-07 (9th Cir.1988), or to introduce “contradictory evidence” that conflicts with the government’s probable cause evidence, see Hoxha, 465 F.3d at 561. By contrast, *609“explanatory evidence” relating to the underlying charges is admissible. See Koskotas v. Roche, 931 F.2d 169, 175 (1st Cir.1991).1
If the extradition judge concludes that there is, in fact, probable cause, he “is required to certify the individual as extraditable to the Secretary of State.” Vo, 447 F.3d at 1237 (internal quotation marks omitted). As previously noted, once the judicial officer determines that an individual is eligible for extradition, the matter returns to the Secretary of State for the executive branch to make the ultimate decision whether to surrender the requested fugitive. See, e.g., Cheung v. United States, 213 F.3d 82, 88 (2d Cir.2000); see 18 U.S.C.A. § 3186 (West 2000) (“The Secretary of State may order the person committed under section 3184 ... to be delivered to any authorized agent of [the requesting] foreign government .... ” (emphasis added)).
Finally, as noted previously, part of the extradition court’s duty is to determine whether the crime charged is covered by the particular extradition treaty as an extraditable offense. Naturally, this determination may require the extradition judge to decide whether the charged offense falls within the political offense exception. If it does, then the offense is a non-extraditable one and the accused fugitive cannot be eligible for extradition, despite the existence of probable cause. See, e.g., Vo, 447 F.3d at 1237-38. Such a decision effectively removes discretion from the Secretary of State, who may not extradite in the absence of a certificate of extraditability. See 18 U.S.C.A. § 3186. The government, however, may continue to pursue the necessary certification by presenting its case to a different magistrate judge. See Collins v. Loisel, 262 U.S. 426, 430, 43 S.Ct. 618, 67 L.Ed. 1062 (1923).
Habeas Review of the Certification of Ex-traditability
Assuming the extradition judge certifies the extradition request to the Secretary of State, the fugitive has but one means of judicial recourse — filing a habeas petition under 28 U.S.C.A. § 2241 (West 2000). See Collins v. Miller, 252 U.S. 364, 369-70, 40 S.Ct. 347, 64 L.Ed. 616 (1920); see also Kastnerova v. United States, 365 F.3d 980, 984 n. 4 (11th Cir.2004) (“There is no direct appeal in extradition proceedings.”); Plaster v. United States, 720 F.2d 340, 347-48 (4th Cir.1983).
Habeas review in the extradition context is very narrow. See Kastnerova, 365 F.3d at 984. Essentially, habeas review of the extradition court’s certification is limited to consideration of whether the extradition court had jurisdiction, whether the charged crime qualifies as an extraditable offense under the treaty, and whether there is “any evidence ” to support the magistrate judge’s finding of probable cause. Prushinowski v. Samples, 734 F.2d 1016, 1018 (4th Cir.1984) (quoting Fernandez v. Phillips, 268 U.S. 311, 312, 45 S.Ct. 541, 69 L.Ed. 970 (1925)); see Kastnerova, 365 F.3d at 985 (explaining that the habeas court’s job is to determine “whether the Government presented competent evidence upon which the magistrate could find there were reasonable grounds upon which to believe [the accused fugitive] guilty of the charged offenses”). Thus, the standard of review applied to the decision of a magistrate judge to issue a certificate of extradition is at least as deferential, if not more so, than that applied to a magistrate judge’s decision to issue a *610search warrant. See Illinois v. Gates, 462 U.S. 213, 236, 103 S.Ct. 2317, 76 L.Ed.2d 527 (1983) (requiring appellate courts to affirm the issuance of a warrant if there is a “substantial basis” to support the magistrate judge’s probable cause determination (internal quotation marks omitted)). It is well-established that a reviewing court is not permitted to substitute its own view of the facts for the findings of the magistrate judge. See United States v. Fuller, 441 F.2d 755, 759 (4th Cir.1971).
In no sense does a habeas action for the review of an extradition decision afford the reviewing court an opportunity to weigh the evidence or serve in a fact-finding capacity. Just as the magistrate judge’s underlying determination is not a mini-trial on the guilt or innocence of the fugitive, the district court’s habeas review should not duplicate the extradition hearing — ha-beas review “is not a means for rehearing the magistrate’s findings.” Afanasjev v. Hurlburt, 418 F.3d 1159, 1163 (11th Cir.) (internal quotation marks omitted), cert. denied, — U.S.—, 126 S.Ct. 587, 163 L.Ed.2d 489 (2005). As long as the factual findings that support the magistrate judge’s legal conclusions are not clearly erroneous, the reviewing court is bound by the facts as determined by the magistrate. The reviewing court may not substitute its own assessment of the facts for that of the magistrate judge nor may it make additional, new findings of fact that the extradition court did not make.
In this case, the only real question is whether the charged crime is an extraditable offense under the treaty — if Ordinola is charged with a political offense, it is not an extraditable crime. The magistrate judge’s determination in this regard required factual findings and the application of law to such facts; therefore, we are presented with a mixed question of law and fact. See Ornelas v. Ruiz, 161 U.S. 502, 509, 16 S.Ct. 689, 40 L.Ed. 787 (1896); see also Vo, 447 F.3d at 1240. We review the extradition court’s factual findings for clear error and its conclusions of law de novo. See Afanasjev, 418 F.3d at 1163.
II.
A.
Under the bilateral extradition treaty, the United States and Peru “agree to extradite to each other ... persons whom the authorities in the Requesting State have charged with, found guilty of, or sentenced for, the commission of an extraditable offense.” Extradition Treaty with Peru, U.S.-Peru, July 26, 2001, S. Treaty Doc. 107-6 (2002) [hereinafter Peru Treaty], art. I. The treaty defines an extraditable offense as an offense that is “punishable under the laws in both Contracting States by deprivation of liberty for ... more than one year or by a more severe penalty,” Peru Treaty, art. II, § 1, or the attempt to commit such an offense, see Peru Treaty, art. II, § 2.
Article IV of the extradition treaty also sets forth several specific bases for denying an extradition request, including the mandatory denial of extradition for political offenses: “Extradition shall not be granted if the offense for which extradition is requested constitutes a political offense.” Peru Treaty, art. IV, § 2. As is typical of international extradition treaties, however, the bilateral extradition agreement between the United States and Peru does not define what constitutes a “political offense.” Instead, it specifies three offenses that do not qualify as a political offense: (1) murder “of a Head of State of one of the Contracting States”; (2) “genocide, as described in the Convention on the Prevention and Punishment of the Crime of Genocide”; and (3) “an offense for which both Contracting States have the obligation pursuant to a multilateral inter*611national agreement to extradite the person sought or to [prosecute] the case....” Id.2
It has fallen to the courts to develop and establish the contours of the political offense exception to the duty to extradite. See Barbara Sicalides, Comment, RICO, CCE, and International Extradition, 62 Temp. L.Rev. 1281, 1801 (1989) (“Because there is no international agreement concerning which crimes constitute political offenses and because the term is seldom defined in treaties, its definition and application have been left to the courts.”); M. Bassiouni, International Extradition and World Public Order 322, 371 (1974) (noting that the judiciary is the primary source for developing the parameters of the political offense exception). As the majority opinion ably explains, federal courts recognize a distinction between “pure” and “relative” political offenses. See Quinn v. Robinson, 783 F.2d 776, 793 (9th Cir.1986). Ordinola argues that he is charged with crimes that would qualify as relative political offenses, 1.e., common crimes that are “so connected with a political act that the entire offense is regarded as political.” Eain, 641 F.2d at 512 (internal quotation marks omitted). “Pure” political offenses such as espionage or treason are rarely, if ever, at issue in extradition litigation; it is the “relative” category involving otherwise extraditable common crimes that produces significant “definitional problems.” Quinn, 783 F.2d at 793-94. The question of whether a common crime is sufficiently connected to a political act would seem to require courts to venture beyond their limits in the extradition process and into the political domain of the executive branch. See Eain, 641 F.2d at 513 (noting the anomalous nature of the judicial branch’s historical practice of deciding whether a crime charged under the law of a foreign sovereign is a political offense). Nevertheless, the long-established practice of the judiciary is to determine whether the political offense exception applies to a given common crime. See Ornelas, 161 U.S. at 502, 16 S.Ct. 689.
The primary test for determining whether a crime is a relative political offense, as noted by the majority, involves two questions: (1) whether, at the time of the alleged offense, there was a “violent political disturbance, such as war, revolution and rebellion”; and (2) whether the alleged offense was “committed in the course of and incidental to” the violent political disturbance. Escobedo v. United States, 623 F.2d 1098, 1104 (5th Cir.1980). Virtually every court to encounter the question of whether the alleged crime is a relative political offense has applied this two-pronged test. See, e.g., Barapind v. Enomoto, 400 F.3d 744, 750 (9th Cir.2005) (en banc).
The political offense exception provides the would-be extraditee with an affirmative defense to extradition. See Vo, 447 F.3d at 1242. Thus, once the government carries its burden of establishing that the defendant is subject to extradition, the burden shifts to the extraditee to prove that the crimes with which he is charged are political offenses. See id.
B.
As thoroughly detailed by Judge Williams, Ordinola was charged in Peru with Aggravated Homicide and Aggravated Kidnapping, among other offenses, arising out of Ordinola’s association with the Colina Group, a counter terrorist unit *612within the Peruvian Army assigned to combat the Shining Path, a violent revolutionary group bent on destroying Peru’s government. The charges against Ordino-la stem from four underlying incidents that occurred in 1991 and 1992 in which Ordino-la and other members of the Colinas allegedly brutalized and murdered numerous individuals.
Ordinola claims that these offenses cannot serve as the bases for extradition because he committed the underlying acts in the course of his duty as a Colina Group member to fight the terrorist threat posed by the Shining Path. Ordinola suggests that he was merely carrying out his duty to preserve the government in the midst of political upheaval; therefore, he contends that the underlying crimes with which he is charged qualify as “political offenses” within the meaning of the Extradition Treaty between the United States and Peru.
Ordinola’s defense to extradition raises an interesting theoretical issue about the application of the political offense exception to former government agents charged with crimes committed while there is an ongoing political uprising against the government. See Aimee J. Buckland, Comment, Offending Officials: Former Government Actors and the Political Offense Exception to Extradition, 94 Cal. L.Rev. 423, 424 (2006) (“[T]he law is unsettled as to whether former government officials may use the political offense exception and whether the exception is appropriate in this context.”). “The original purpose of the political offense exception to extradition was to protect revolutionaries from being returned to ... face prosecution for crimes committed against their governments,” id. at 423, not to afford protection to those seeking to suppress a rebellion. There is support for the position that the political offense exception does not apply in a situation such as Ordinola’s because, “[a]rguably, everything a government actor does is ‘political’ ... [and therefore] the exception theoretically protects former government officials from facing their accusers merely because they used to govern them.” Id. at 424. See In re Extradition of Suarez-Mason, 694 F.Supp. 676, 705 (N.D.Cal.1988) (concluding that “the principles underlying the political offense exception are ill-served by extending its protection to former government officials”).
Unfortunately, the issue of whether the political offense exception should ever be applied to a former government actor is not technically before this court, the government having elected not to pursue the argument before the extradition court and on habeas review. Accordingly, we have no occasion to address this difficult problem directly and must assume the exception is theoretically available to an extrad-itee such as Ordinola. As a practical matter, however, the difficulty of assessing a former government agent’s claim to the political offense exception persists in Ordinola’s argument, which is essentially no different than the claim that any acts he committed under the auspices of the Colina Group were political. Indeed, the sole purpose for the existence of the Coli-na Group was political: to preserve the government from the revolutionary group that sought to overthrow it. Specifically, Ordinola takes the position that he is charged with political offenses because the underlying acts were politically motivated — he was acting pursuant to directives from his superior officers. Thus, in Ordinola’s mind, he was fighting an insurgency. Ordinola’s argument seeks to reduce the test for determining whether the charged crime falls within the political offense exception to one based on subjective motivation. But, if we are going to permit a former government actor to avail himself of the political offense exception, the offender’s subjective motivation can*613not serve as the sole determinate of whether an offense is a political one. As Judge Williams correctly noted, “[a]n offense is not of a political character simply because it was politically motivated.” Escobedo, 623 F.2d at 1104; see Ahmad v. Wigen, 910 F.2d 1063, 1066 (2d Cir.1999); Earn, 641 F.2d at 520 (“[F]or purposes of extradition, motivation is not itself determinative of the political character of any given act.”).
Rather, the heart of the inquiry when it comes to determining whether the charged offense falls within the political offense exception must be objective. See Ornelas, 161 U.S. at 509-12, 16 S.Ct. 689. Factors such as “the character of the foray, the mode of attack, [and] the persons killed or captured” are appropriate for courts to consider in determining whether, as an objective matter, the common crime at issue was “incidental” to a major political disturbance or uprising. Id. at 511-12, 16 S.Ct. 689.
C.
The magistrate judge concluded that there was a political uprising sufficient to meet the first prong of the incidence test. He concluded further, however, that none of the four underlying events were sufficiently incidental to the uprising to qualify as political offenses. The magistrate judge’s conclusion that Ordinola’s charged offenses were not “political offenses” rested primarily on his conclusion that the “victims in this case were clearly civilians” with no connection to the political upheaval in Peru at the time. J.A. 31. Sitting in review of the extradition order, the district court concluded to the contrary — that Or-dinola was charged with a political offense because he “did not knowingly murder innocent civilians” but was responding to the threat posed by the Shining Path. J.A. 528.3 Although the district court’s assessment of the evidence presented to the magistrate judge as part of the extradition hearing is certainly plausible, it ignores the question of whether the magistrate judge’s assessment was clearly erroneous. Rather than reviewing the extradition court’s factual findings for clear error, the district court ruled based on its preferred view of the record — that Ordinola’s targets were not necessarily civilians. Additionally, the district court relied upon a new factual determination — that Ordinola did not act knowingly. The magistrate judge did not make an explicit finding regarding Ordinola’s knowledge of the civilian status of his victims. If anything, the magistrate judge implicitly declined to make such a finding, noting that subjective “political intentions on the part of the extraditee are not enough to render an act a political offense.” J.A. 29. Moreover, the district court’s reliance on this later finding of fact — Ordinola’s lack of knowledge — rests on the same faulty premise as Ordinola’s argument that his subjective motivation is a determining factor.
In any event, our review of the extradition decision must consider the factual basis as determined by the magistrate judge without regard to the district court’s view of the facts.
I. Barrios Altos Case
In May 1991, Ordinola and other members of the Colina Group allegedly killed 15 people, including women and children, at a fundraiser purportedly being held to benefit the Shining Path. The magistrate judge found that the Colinas, riding in two vehicles, pulled up at an apartment complex in the Barrios Altos section in Lima *614where the party was proceeding in the complex’s yard and “opened fire on the crowd of men, women, and children.” J.A. 19. Ordinola was identified by another Colinas member as a participant in the attacks and specifically as the shooter of a child who was running to his wounded father. The magistrate judge concluded that “the little boy whom [Ordinola] allegedly shot at the [fundraiser] ... was almost certainly not a terrorist, and the same can most likely be said for the other partygoers.” J.A. 31.
Ordinola does not contradict these facts. Rather, he contends that other evidence submitted by the Peruvian government demonstrates that the Colina Group was acting based on information provided by a government agent who infiltrated the Shining Path and reported that members and friends of the Shining Path gathered socially where the Barrios Altos killings occurred. Ordinola also highlights Peru’s acknowledgment, in its extradition submission to the State Department, that it “presumed that the murder and bodily injuries caused ... were motivated by a feeling of retaliation against terrorism.” J.A. 441. Ordinola suggests, therefore, that his actions as a member of the Colinas were undertaken in response to specific threats posed by the Shining Path in order to protect the Peruvian government. Thus, he argues that his crimes were incidental to the political disturbance in Peru at the time.
The magistrate judge rejected Ordino-la’s position, concluding that “mere political intentions on the part of the extraditee are not enough to render an act a political offense.” J.A. 29. In determining that Ordinola’s crimes were not incidental to the ongoing political disturbance in Peru, the magistrate judge listed the objective Ornelas factors but discussed only one of them — the status of the persons killed or captured. The magistrate judge relied heavily on his determination that the victims were civilians without any real connections to the Shining Path.
I would agree that Ordinola failed to demonstrate that these actions were “incidental” to a political disturbance. His argument is essentially that his conduct with respect to the Barrios Altos slayings was incidental to Peru’s political upheaval because his actions were intended to further the Colinas’ overarching objective of destroying the Shining Path. As suggested by the magistrate judge and explained in the majority opinion, Ordinola’s subjective motivation, political though it may have been, does not alone convert his common crimes into political offenses. See Ahmad, 910 F.2d at 1066. Ordinola must show that his crimes were incidental to the political uprising from an objective vantage point, as well. He fails to do so. In fact, Ordinola does not really challenge the magistrate judge’s finding of fact that the victims were civilians with no ties to the Shining Path, and he has failed to demonstrate that other Ornelas factors, such as the nature of the attack, suggest a political crime. Actually, the facts noted by the magistrate judge suggest precisely the opposite' — the attack occurred in a residential area being used for a social gathering and was not connected to military operations against the government.
2. Chimbóte Cotton Mill Workers Case
In May 1992, Peruvian Army General Juan Rivero arranged a meeting between Colina Group leaders and Jorge Fung Pineda, the owner of a private cotton mill. Cotton mill workers were making demands for higher wages and better machinery. Pineda, who had connections in the military, requested that the Colina Group, for a fee, “get [the workers] involved in terrorism and teach them a good lesson.” J.A. 23. Members of the Colina Group, *615including Ordinola, kidnapped eight workers from their homes and a ninth while he was riding his bicycle, executed them and buried the bodies. At the burial location, the Colinas used red paint to write Shining Path slogans.
Ordinola argues that he and the other Colinas acted under the belief, based on information provided by government collaborators, that the mill workers were involved in “subversive” activities. He suggests that the evidence shows the Colinas were kept in the dark about the true nature of their mission by superior officers. According to a government witness, the Colinas believed they were executing terrorists and learned that the executions had been a “private job’-’ only after the fact.
Again, Ordinola’s argument hinges solely upon his subjective belief that he was fighting the government’s war on terrorism, and that the cotton mill workers were actually insurrectionists. But, such facts do not demonstrate that the magistrate judge clearly erred in finding that Ordino-la’s actions were not incidental to a political uprising. That Ordinola was acting upon orders from superior officers or mistakenly believed that he was killing terrorists may ultimately demonstrate that he lacked the intent to commit murder or kidnapping; however, these issues are ones for the Peruvian justice system to sort out after a full-blown trial. For our part, we are not concerned with whether Ordinola has a defense to the underlying charges. Our job is simply to decide whether Ordinola is charged with a political offense based on the limited evidence adduced at the extradition hearing, which is preliminary in nature and not designed to fully develop the evidence.
3. La Cantutu and Bustamante Incidents
In July 1992, Ordinola and other members of the Colina Group went to the dormitories at “La Cantutu” University, where an army agent had allegedly infiltrated and reported the presence of terrorists. Wearing masks and carrying weapons,- shovels and lime, Ordinola and other Colinas removed fifty students from their rooms and assembled them outside. The army agent identified ten of the fifty students as terrorists. The Colinas also abducted a professor identified by the agent as a terrorist. The students and the professor were taken to another location, where they were executed after digging their own graves. Members of the Colina Group subsequently exhumed and incinerated the bodies for fear that they would be discovered.
In the final incident, which occurred in June 1992, Army Major Rivas summoned the Colina Group, including Ordinola, and informed them that they would conduct an operation in Huacho but did not provide any specifics. The following day, the Coli-na Group traveled in two vans to an area near a beach. Rivas directed one group to dig a grave and remain at the beach; the other group was ordered to abduct Pedro Yauri Bustamante from his home and return with him to the beach. Bustamante was a journalist who broadcast a daily radio program in which he often criticized the government. Army Intelligence had investigated Bustamante on two previous occasions and listed him as active terrorist.
The magistrate judge found that, although “it is slightly more plausible that the university students and professor and the journalist ... had ties to the Shining Path [than did fundraiser attendees or the factory workers], the evidence [of such ties] is not strong.” J.A. 31.
Ordinola’s response, again, is that the Colina Group acted according to what it was told — that the targeted individuals were part of the Shining Path. Because the mission of the Colina Group was to elimi*616nate the threat posed by the Shining Path, Ordinola argues that these incidents were necessarily connected to the political uprising. For the very same reasons set forth previously, I would reject this argument as well. Ordinola relies on his subjective motivation alone to prove that his crimes were political offenses; he fails to offer objective factors that demonstrate the political nature of the charged offenses.
III.
In conclusion, when the magistrate judge viewed the evidence objectively, he found it insufficient to show that the killings and kidnappings were to suppress the Shining Path revolution. Men, women, and children had been killed indiscriminately. Shining Path slogans had been painted on the walls after the fact. Bodies were hidden or incinerated. Not one shred of objective evidence showed any of the victims to have been members or supporters of the Shining Path. Evidence that Ordinola was told by informants or superiors that the persons to be killed were insurgents or their supporters is not objective proof that they were. Instead, that evidence goes to what Ordinola subjectively believed and may be of relevance by way of defense to the charges if he is ultimately returned to Peru for trial. Here, however, it cannot avail him. Consequently, I can find no clear error in the conclusion of the magistrate judge that these crimes were not political offenses within the meaning of the extradition treaty. Therefore, I agree reversal of the district court is warranted.
. The line between inadmissible contradictory evidence and. admissible explanatory evidence is often difficult to fix. See Hoxha, 465 F.3d at 561. In this case, however, Ordinola did not introduce any evidence of his own. Both parties attempted to establish their respective positions based on the government’s submissions.
. The extradition treaty lists two offenses that fall within this latter category of offenses which the contracting states have an obligation to extradite pursuant to a multilateral international agreement: drug trafficking and "offenses related to terrorism.” Peru Treaty, art. IV, § 2(c)(i), (ii). The text makes clear, however, that this list is not intended to be exhaustive.
. In dismissing the magistrate court's finding that the victims were clearly civilians, the district court noted that "[i]t was not uncommon for children or young teenagers to assume the terrorist roles of the Shining Path.” J.A. 527.