Countering Neofascism
A framework for resistance to ideological extremism and for constructing positive, inclusive, uplifting, and resilient societies.
Table of Contents
Introduction - Centering Language - Challenges to a Liberatory Society - The NSDAP and MAGA - The SPD and the DNC - The Actual Left - The Fractured Right - Reactionary Masculinity - The Armed Extremist Underground - Techno-Utopianism - Religious Millennialism & Fascism - Resistance - The Risk of Co-Opted Resistance - Countering Extremist Propaganda - The Strategic Use of Art in Resistance - The Power of Positive Protest - The Most Difficult Truth - The Double-Edged Sword of Armed Resistance - Conclusion - Beneath the Throne - About the Author
This work, like all of life, is a work-in-progress, subject to change as I continue to grow, learn, and experience new things.
Copyright © 2025
Laughing Lion Silly Monkie
All rights waived.
This book henceforth belongs to humanity. Copy it, share it, translate it, modify it, remix it, turn it into a diorama, an interpretive dance, a song, a mural, a radio broadcast, a hologram, a play, a podcast, a movie. Print it, pass it hand to hand, whisper it in the dark. Use it to build something, to dismantle something, to light a fire in minds—or in a wood stove, if that’s what’s needed.
Whatever works. Just spread the message.
Introduction
History is often viewed as a distant mirror, reflecting truths we struggle to acknowledge in the present. The rise of authoritarian regimes in the 1930s and 1940s serves as both a warning and a blueprint for understanding how propaganda, grievance, and nationalism can normalize cruelty and erode democracy. While it is tempting to see fascism as a historical aberration, confined to the horrors of Nazi Germany and Mussolini’s Italy, the mechanisms that enabled those regimes—disinformation, economic despair, scapegoating, and political complacency—are alive and well today.
The parallels between the National Socialist German Workers' Party (NSDAP) and modern far-right movements like Trumpism reveal unsettling continuities in how authoritarianism takes root. The weaponization of nationalism, the dehumanization of marginalized groups, and the cultivation of grievance politics have all been repackaged for a digital age, where social media serves as the new propaganda machine, radicalizing individuals in real-time. Meanwhile, the failures of the Social Democratic Party (SPD) in 1930s Germany eerily echo the Democratic National Committee’s (DNC) current struggles—both have found themselves outmaneuvered by extremist factions, hamstrung by incrementalism, and unable to counter disinformation with a compelling vision of their own.
Democracy is not self-sustaining. It does not survive through mere institutional inertia or allegiance to the “right” party. It requires an informed, vigilant, and active populace. We cannot assume that a moderate, centrist approach will hold back the rising tide of authoritarianism. Fascism does not respect the rules of democratic governance; it exploits them. And unless we confront it with bold, systemic action, we will find ourselves repeating the very mistakes that allowed it to flourish in the past.
This work lays out a roadmap for countering modern neofascism by addressing the root causes of radicalization, the failures of liberal institutions, and the necessity of rethinking how we organize, communicate, and resist. It is not enough to simply oppose authoritarianism in rhetoric. We must dismantle the conditions that allow it to thrive. That means providing economic stability, fostering real interconnection in society, breaking down the manufactured divisions that fuel reactionary politics, and ensuring that truth is not just available but accessible.
To counter authoritarianism effectively, we must be willing to question our own assumptions, recognize where past strategies have failed, and embrace a new approach—one that is as uncompromising in its fight for justice as the forces of reaction are in their pursuit of power. The time for passive resistance has passed. The fight for democracy is now.
Centering Language
Language is a battlefield. Political discourse has been muddied by historical misuse, intentional doublespeak, and the careless application of labels—so much so that many terms no longer mean what they once did, or worse, mean whatever is convenient for those in power. The realm of -isms and -ists, -itians, -ats, and -ans has been weaponized, misapplied, and diluted to the point where clarity is often the first casualty in any political discussion. Consider the term democrat—does it refer to someone who broadly supports democracy? A registered member of the Democratic National Committee? A habitual voter for that party? Or simply someone who aligns with its policies but never casts a ballot? These ambiguities are not incidental; they serve the interests of those who benefit from confusion, tribalism, and misrepresentation.
In this section, I aim to strip away the obfuscation, reclaim precision, and define the terms I will use throughout this book. By doing so, I am not seeking rigid orthodoxy, but rather ensuring that when I use a term, its meaning is clear and unambiguous in the context of our fight against neofascism. This is not an academic exercise in semantics—it is a necessary act of resistance.
The First and Second Divisions: A Framework for Political Thought
At the heart of political philosophy are two foundational tensions that shape all ideological frameworks:
Individualism vs. Collectivism – What is the primary unit of political and moral concern—the individual or the collective?
Authoritarianism vs. Libertarianism – Should power be concentrated and imposed from above, or should it be decentralized and self-organized?
These two divisions do not exist in isolation; together, they form a four-quadrant political framework that helps clarify the ideological landscape beyond the misleading contemporary binaries of "left vs. right" or "freedom vs. control."
Individualism vs. Collectivism
Individualism
Prioritizes personal autonomy, self-determination, and individual rights over collective concerns.
Views the role of society as minimal.
Tends to oppose centralized governance and collectivist economic systems, often emphasizing self-reliance.
Collectivism
Prioritizes shared responsibility, interdependence, and social solidarity over individual autonomy.
Views the individual as inextricably embedded within a larger social or ecological network rather than a separate entity.
Tends to advocate for cooperative economics, mutual aid, and community-based decision-making as necessary for justice.
Neither individualism nor collectivism is inherently authoritarian or libertarian. The key question is whether these principles are imposed through force and coercion or freely chosen through decentralized, voluntary organization—which brings us to the Second Division.
Authoritarianism vs. Libertarianism
Authoritarianism
Centralizes power in a ruling class, state, corporation, or hierarchical structure.
Enforces laws, economic structures, and social norms through coercion, surveillance, and force rather than consent.
Believes that order, stability, or ideological purity justify restricting personal or collective freedom.
Libertarianism
Decentralizes power and promotes voluntary, self-organized governance.
Opposes coercion, hierarchical domination, and state or corporate control over individuals or communities.
Advocates for consent-based, bottom-up systems of cooperation rather than imposed governance.
I use the term libertarianism rather than anti-authoritarianism to frame it as an assertive ideology rather than a mere reaction to authoritarianism. However, I do so carefully, noting that Libertarianism as a term in the United States has been monopolized today by individualists. Globally, both individualist and collectivist libertarian models are more acknowledged, and from a global perspective, not all libertarians agree on economic or social models:
Right-Libertarians prioritize individual property, free markets, and voluntary exchange as the means of social organization.
Left-Libertarians prioritize cooperative ownership, communal decision-making, and mutual aid as the foundation of liberty.
The Political Grid Template
This framework clarifies political ideologies without distorting them through the contemporary "left vs. right" binary.
Collectivist-Authoritarian. State socialism, theocracy, nationalist communism, military collectivism.
Individualist-Authoritarian. Oligarchy, fascism, monarchy, neoliberal corporatism, neoconservatism.
Collectivist-Libertarian. Left-libertarianism, anarcho-communism, syndicalism, mutual aid, radical democracy.
Individualist-Libertarian. Right-libertarianism, anarcho-capitalism, voluntaryism, radical self-reliance, sovereign citizens.
Why This Framework Matters in Countering Neofascism
By understanding both The First and Second Divisions, we move beyond the current broken framing and into a more precise, nuanced framework for political thought—one that allows us to build coalitions across ideological lines where there is shared anti-authoritarian and liberatory intent.
Neofascism thrives on ideological confusion, on distortions of both individualism and collectivism to suit its ends. It manipulates these divisions by:
Falsely presenting itself as pro-freedom while advancing an individualist-authoritarian agenda that consolidates power in corporate or state elites.
Using the rhetoric of collectivism to justify hierarchy, coercion, and reactionary nationalism under the guise of "national unity."
Creating false binaries that divide those who should be united against hierarchical oppression—turning left-libertarians against right-libertarians when their common enemy is authoritarianism itself.
The task before us is not to defend an ideological label, but to reject all forms of authoritarian control and build systems where both autonomy and solidarity flourish.
A liberatory politics does not simply defend the individual or the collective—it defends both, wherever they are under attack from coercion, exploitation, and domination.
The real struggle is not between “left” and “right.”
The real struggle is between authoritarian control and radical liberation.
Building a Movement that Rejects False Binaries
Understanding this framework allows us to articulate a truly liberatory politics:
Rejecting both state-imposed collectivism and market-imposed individualism as forms of coercion.
Building voluntary networks of mutual aid, syndicates, and community self-governance that honor both individual autonomy and collective care.
Refusing to let "libertarianism" be co-opted by capitalists or reactionaries, and reclaiming it as a radical commitment to anti-authoritarian freedom.
If we are to build a world worth fighting for, it must be one that rejects coercion in all forms and fosters systems where autonomy and interdependence coexist.
Beyond the Present
At the center of this quadrant is the intersection of the two divisions, a theoretical space that is neither fully authoritarian nor libertarian, neither fully collectivist nor individualist.
For the sake of this essay, I refer to this ideological equilibrium as centrism—not in the conventional political sense, but as the theoretical midpoint where competing forces stabilize.
Moving outward from this center, we traverse gradations of political ideology, from moderation to extremism. As ideologies drift further from the center, they become more rigid, exclusionary, and susceptible to extremism.
For example:
Moving directly upward toward authoritarianism, we pass through moderate-centrist-authoritarianism, reaching the top-center, where we find extreme-centrist-authoritarianism.
From that point, moving right toward individualism, we arrive at extreme authoritarian-individualism—which is, effectively, neofascism.
Moving downward toward libertarianism, we pass through moderate-centrist-libertarianism and reach extreme-libertarian-individualism, which may manifest as anarcho-capitalism or radical voluntarism.
Likewise, moving leftward from authoritarianism toward collectivism, we encounter extreme collectivist-authoritarianism—which could be state communism, theocracy, or nationalized authoritarian socialism.
And going all the way to the extreme collectivist-liberatian quadrant, we might find stateless communes with rigid ideological purity (e.g., some historical communalist experiments, eco-communes that reject all external governance, hyper-localized direct democracy without protections for dissenting individuals.
Society is an ever-shifting system, not a fixed state. Stability is an illusion—what matters is how we navigate its movement. A healthy, functioning society aims to stay, broadly speaking, near the center of the quadrant. There will always be individual ideologues at the extremes, but the real danger comes when collective ideology ventures too far away from the center, becoming rigidly authoritarian or dangerously unstable in its libertarian excesses.
However, as a dynamic system, society cannot and should not remain static at the exact center indefinitely—it will always move, reflecting the complex interplay of political, social, and economic forces.
At this moment in history, the most urgent concern is the rise of extreme authoritarian-individualism—neofascism.
But once this challenge is resolved, it is possible that society will veer toward another extreme in the future. The cycle repeats, and it is our duty as socially conscious individuals to nudge society back toward balance whenever it strays too far in any direction.
A Personal Perspective: My Position in the Grid
For full transparency, ideologically I am most at home with moderate-centrist-libertarianism—a position that primarily values decentralized cooperation, mutual aid, and anti-authoritarian governance.
However, I do not advocate that everyone else, or society itself, should align with my position. It is not “the correct” position; just my position.
A truly healthy society must contain a well-rounded balance of moderates and centrists in all four quadrants, ensuring that no single ideology dominates to the point of extremism.
The tension between individualism and collectivism should be resolved not as a binary, but through an ethos of interconnection—understanding that individual freedom and collective well-being are not opposites but complementary forces.
Likewise, the tension between authoritarianism and libertarianism should be reconciled in a way that recognizes power as both a responsibility and a potential danger—where true strength lies not in domination, but in the ability to stand firm against extremisms while empowering and protecting marginalized communities.
The goal is not to eliminate ideological difference, but to ensure that power is always held in check—especially where it threatens the systematically oppressed, marginalized, isolated, and targeted.
Final Thoughts
If we are to resist neofascism, authoritarianism, and political extremism, we must not fall into the traps of ideological purity or false binaries.
We must reject coercion in all forms, whether it comes from the state, the market, theocratic rule, or unregulated technological control.
We must build a world where power is decentralized, but justice is not abandoned; where cooperation thrives, but freedom is not sacrificed.
The real struggle is not left vs. right.
The real struggle is freedom vs. domination.
It is up to us to build a world that nurtures both autonomy and solidarity, ensuring that future generations do not fall into the same cycles of oppression and extremism that have defined so much of human history.
This is our task. This is our fight. The future is unwritten—but only if we refuse to let it be dictated for us.
Challenges to a Liberatory Society
While the First and Second Divisions provide a framework for understanding political tensions, they do not exist in a vacuum. Every society, regardless of its ideological commitments, must contend with the realities of power dynamics. Even in systems that strive for decentralization and democracy, certain structural tendencies inevitably emerge.
Every liberatory society faces a fundamental tension between decentralization and organization, freedom and stability, individual autonomy and collective power. These tensions are not new—they have shaped human governance for centuries. Whether in tribal councils, feudal monarchies, democratic republics, or revolutionary communes, the same patterns reappear: hierarchies of influence emerge, decision-making consolidates, and power finds a way to self-perpetuate. If left unchecked, these forces harden into aristocracy, oligarchy, and, in the most dangerous cases, kleptocracy. These challenges are not theoretical—they are historical inevitabilities. The only question is how effectively we can mitigate them.
The Challenge of Aristocracy
No matter how egalitarian a society strives to be, hierarchies of influence always form. In any human community, certain individuals will naturally accumulate more social capital due to their charisma, competence, or strategic positioning. Some people are more persuasive, more knowledgeable, or better connected, and as a result, their words and actions carry more weight. This phenomenon is not inherently oppressive. In fact, in healthy societies, it is often desirable for those with greater expertise or vision to take on leadership roles, provided that their authority remains accountable to the broader community.
However, when social dominance hierarchies become rigid and self-perpetuating, they solidify into aristocracy. Aristocracy, in this context, refers not simply to a hereditary ruling class in a feudal sense, but to any entrenched social elite that exercises disproportionate influence. Even in movements that reject formal hierarchy, aristocracies often emerge in the form of intellectual leaders, cultural influencers, or ideological gatekeepers whose authority goes unchallenged.
Aristocracy is what happens when social dominance hierarchy ceases to be fluid and merit-based, instead becoming an entrenched, self-replicating elite. Even in democratic or decentralized societies, informal aristocracies arise in the form of political dynasties, intellectual circles, media figures, and corporate power blocs. While aristocracies may begin as systems of merit—where those with knowledge, charisma, or skill rise to prominence—they often degrade into structures where power is maintained through exclusivity rather than competence. A society that does not actively challenge aristocratic entrenchment will inevitably see its decision-making controlled by an increasingly insulated elite, whether in politics, media, academia, or corporate leadership.
The real danger of aristocracy is that it often serves as the foundation for oligarchy. A society that does not actively challenge entrenched social dominance will inevitably find itself governed by an elite class, regardless of its stated political commitments. Preventing aristocracy from hardening into oligarchy requires mechanisms for fluid leadership, transparency, and decentralized decision-making. Influence should always remain contingent on competence and consent, rather than becoming a self-reinforcing hierarchy that places certain individuals or families beyond accountability.
The Challenge of Oligarchy
Robert Michels, a political theorist, described what he called the Iron Law of Oligarchy:
"In any complex organization, no matter how democratic its intentions, a small group of individuals will inevitably rise to dominate decision-making."
Oligarchy is the hardening of influence into institutional power. If aristocracy represents the rise of an elite social class, oligarchy is what happens when that class consolidates direct control over governance, economy, and policy. Even in democratic institutions, a small, self-selecting group inevitably takes the reins. Whether in corporate boardrooms, party leadership, media empires, or revolutionary councils, oligarchy forms when decision-making becomes exclusive—when access to power is defined not by democratic engagement but by control over information, resources, and bureaucratic complexity.
Oligarchies do not always arise from malice or conspiracy—they emerge because certain people accumulate disproportionate decision-making power through effectiveness and efficiency. The key factors that drive oligarchic tendencies include:
Competence & Specialization – A handful of individuals become more competent than the majority, leading to decision-making bottlenecks.
Administrative & Bureaucratic Momentum – Over time, those who manage logistics, finances, and operations gain control over the means of governance.
Time & Energy Asymmetry – Not everyone has the time or capacity to engage in governance. Those who dedicate their lives to organizing naturally accumulate power.
Control Over Resources – Even in well-intended organizations, those who control funding, infrastructure, or strategic assets inevitably wield more power than others.
Unchecked, oligarchy inevitably produces kleptocracy.
The Challenge of Kleptocracy
Unlike aristocracy and oligarchy, which emerge as structural tendencies, kleptocracy is a preventable failure—the result of institutions that were meant to check power instead becoming tools of corruption. Unlike authoritarian coups, kleptocracy does not need to seize power illegally. It can be democratically elected.
There is nothing structurally preventing a democratic society from choosing self-enriching leaders, dismantling its own checks and balances, and allowing wealth to dictate governance.
This is why no democratic victory is permanent. Once a kleptocratic system takes hold, it becomes increasingly difficult to remove through legal means, as every mechanism of accountability—courts, regulators, watchdog institutions—is either co-opted or defunded.
Kleptocracy is what happens when governance is no longer about governing but about personal wealth extraction. In kleptocratic systems:
Public institutions are hollowed out – Laws, courts, and regulations exist in name only but serve only the ruling elite.
Wealth and power become indistinguishable – Those who rule do so solely for financial or monopolistic gain.
Public resources are looted – Infrastructure, industry, and social services are gutted for private profit.
Unlike authoritarianism, which can emerge from ideological commitment, kleptocracy is fundamentally nihilistic—it has no higher purpose beyond the accumulation of wealth and power.
Preventing the Hardening of Hierarchies and the Rise of Kleptocracy
While social dominance hierarchies may be inevitable, and oligarchy may emerge as a natural tendency in complex systems, kleptocracy can and must be actively prevented. This requires an ongoing commitment to transparency, decentralization, and participatory governance. A liberatory society must ensure that power is always earned, always accountable, and never immune to challenge.
Among the most critical safeguards against these challenges are mechanisms that prevent any single class, institution, or individual from monopolizing decision-making. This includes decentralization of power, rotational leadership, strong bottom-up accountability structures, and a cultural commitment to resisting corruption at all levels. No society can remain permanently free of power struggles, but the measure of a just system is not whether hierarchy exists—it is whether those who hold power can be removed before they become unaccountable.
Democracy is not self-sustaining. Left unchecked, it can drift into aristocracy, slide into oligarchy, and collapse into kleptocracy. The only defense against this is perpetual vigilance. If the goal of a free society is to prevent domination in all its forms, then resisting the concentration of power—whether social, economic, or political—must be an ongoing process, not a one-time victory.
Preventing the hardening of hierarchies requires constant renewal, disruption, and decentralization of power structures.
The NSDAP and MAGA
“We have carried out this most difficult task for the love of our people. And we have taken on no defect within us, in our soul, or in our character.”
Heinrich Himmler’s 1943 Poznań speech to SS officers is a chilling acknowledgment of the Holocaust, in which he explicitly discusses the extermination of Jews as a “necessary” but morally burdensome task for the SS. Framing the genocide as a duty to secure Germany’s future, Himmler justifies these atrocities with deeply entrenched anti-Semitic rhetoric and emphasizes secrecy to protect the regime. Delivered in a cold, bureaucratic tone, the speech provides undeniable evidence of the Nazi leadership’s central role in orchestrating the Holocaust and illustrates how ideology and obedience were weaponized to normalize mass murder.
Fascism in the 1930s and 1940s was built on a foundation of nationalism, grievance, and exclusion, offering visions of national rebirth that masked dehumanization, violence, and systemic oppression. Leaders like Hitler and Mussolini framed their regimes as answers to perceived threats—economic instability, cultural decay, and internal enemies—promising to restore pride and prosperity through the assertion of strength, the suppression of dissent, and the targeting of scapegoats. The parallels between this historical fascism and modern ideologies are striking and deeply troubling.
Fascist regimes in the 20th century justified their actions with narratives of exceptionalism, portraying their nations as uniquely destined to lead the world. The Nazis, for instance, invoked the idea of a "Thousand Year Reich," a divinely inspired vision of Aryan supremacy that required the eradication of those deemed "lesser" or "threatening" to the purity of the nation. Today, modern ideologies reflect aspects of this rhetoric, such as promises to "Make America Great Again" or claims that America holds a unique destiny to lead the world. While these slogans differ in context and intention, they evoke a sense of national pride and inevitability that can obscure critical reflection on the broader consequences of such narratives. These narratives evoke pride but also justify exclusion, authoritarian policies, and the targeting of vulnerable groups as obstacles to national renewal.
Fascist propaganda relied heavily on grievance politics, stoking fears that internal and external enemies were undermining the nation’s greatness. Jews, communists, and other marginalized groups were cast as existential threats in Nazi Germany, justifying persecution and violence. Similarly, modern ideologies like Trumpism perpetuate a narrative of victimhood, presenting immigrants, minorities, and political opponents as enemies of the state. This framing turns societal challenges into moral battles, with the nation positioned as perpetually under siege. The "America First" rhetoric mirrors fascist appeals to protect the nation’s culture and economy from external contamination, fostering division and dehumanization.
Economic distractions also play a key role in both systems. Fascist regimes used promises of economic renewal to pacify the masses while consolidating power and wealth among elites. Today, leaders invoke populist economic rhetoric—such as promises of tax cuts, wage increases, or trade wars—to distract from policies that primarily benefit the wealthy. This modern version of "bread and circuses" keeps people focused on short-term gains while systemic inequalities deepen and freedoms erode. The parallels to fascist-era economic policies are clear: the public is offered crumbs while kleptocrats take control of the table.
Both fascism and modern ideologies rely on the elevation of a charismatic leader as the sole solution to national challenges. In Nazi Germany, Hitler positioned himself as the savior of the German people, a leader whose vision and authority could not be questioned. Today, modern movements similarly elevate individuals as symbols of strength and unity, framing dissent as treason and opposition as existential threats. This cult of personality shifts focus away from systemic problems and solutions, consolidating power in ways that echo fascist authoritarianism. In the modern era, social media has transformed how charismatic leaders build and maintain their followings, allowing them to bypass traditional institutions and speak directly to millions. Social media platforms amplify their messages in real-time, fostering a sense of immediacy and personal connection while simultaneously enabling the spread of disinformation. This digital transformation has turned followers into participants in the narrative, reinforcing loyalty and silencing dissent in ways that were unimaginable in the 1930s.
Technology and propaganda, essential to fascism, also play a central role in modern ideologies. The Nazis used radio, film, and print to disseminate their ideology, control narratives, and isolate dissenting voices. While the propaganda tools of Nazi Germany were centralized and state-controlled, modern disinformation spreads through decentralized platforms like social media, reflecting both continuity in divisive rhetoric and evolution in its delivery. Today, social media platforms serve a similar purpose, amplifying outrage, spreading disinformation, and creating echo chambers that normalize extremism. Algorithms ensure that divisive content dominates, turning platforms like Twitter and Reddit into tools for division and radicalization. Unlike traditional propaganda tools used by the Nazis, such as state-controlled radio or film, social media operates in a decentralized manner, allowing users themselves to propagate messages with minimal oversight. Additionally, personalized algorithmic influence tailors content to individual preferences and biases, creating echo chambers that reinforce existing beliefs and escalate polarization. This decentralized, data-driven approach amplifies division at an unprecedented scale, making propaganda more targeted and pervasive than ever before. Just as Nazi propaganda dehumanized and scapegoated, modern rhetoric weaponizes fear and grievance, pushing real-world consequences that range from discriminatory policies to acts of violence inspired by online communities.
Underlying all of this is the ideological framework of Social Darwinism and hyper-individualism. Fascist regimes framed their actions as "natural" or "inevitable," rooted in the survival of the fittest. Similarly, Ayn Rand-style objectivism and prosperity gospel thinking frame success as moral validation, suggesting that wealth and power are signs of inherent superiority or divine favor. For example, policies that focus on deregulation and tax cuts for the wealthy are often justified as incentivizing innovation and rewarding hard work, while rhetoric around prosperity gospel promotes the idea that material wealth is evidence of divine blessing. This framing absolves systemic inequality by shifting focus away from structural factors, casting poverty as a moral or personal failing. This ideology absolves those in power from accountability while dismissing the suffering of the vulnerable as deserved. In both eras, the result is the same: systemic oppression justified as a moral or natural necessity.
One of the most disturbing parallels lies in the way these systems dehumanize dissent and normalize cruelty. Fascist regimes portrayed their atrocities as burdens borne for the greater good, demanding loyalty and sacrifice from their followers. Modern ideologies, while less explicit, rely on similar mechanisms. Prosperity gospel thinking absolves the wealthy by casting poverty as a moral failing. Nationalist rhetoric frames immigration and diversity as threats to cultural purity. Economic policies that prioritize corporate profits over human needs are justified as necessary for growth. In both cases, compassion and accountability are eroded in favor of loyalty to a myth of national greatness.
The danger lies not just in the policies but in the mindset they create—a mindset that discourages introspection, valorizes strength over empathy, and sees dissent as betrayal. This mindset thrives when progressive opposition fails to act decisively, leaving a vacuum that allows fear, grievance, and authoritarian tendencies to gain traction unchecked. Fascism in the 1930s and 1940s did not emerge fully formed; it was built gradually, normalized through rhetoric, policy, and public complacency. Modern parallels suggest we are on a similar trajectory, with leaders and movements exploiting fear, grievance, and division to consolidate power while eroding democratic norms.
Rejecting these parallels requires vigilance, critical thinking, and moral courage. It means questioning narratives of national exceptionalism, rejecting the scapegoating of vulnerable groups, and resisting the dehumanization of dissent. True progress is not found in promises of golden ages or divine destiny; it is found in accountability, collaboration, and a commitment to justice. The lessons of history are clear: unchecked nationalism, grievance politics, and authoritarianism lead to destruction. It is up to us to recognize these patterns and act decisively to prevent them from taking root again.
The SPD and DNC
The Social Democratic Party (SPD) of 1930s Germany offers a cautionary tale of how progressive parties can falter in the face of authoritarian threats. Despite being the largest party in the Weimar Republic and positioning itself as a defender of democracy and workers’ rights, the SPD’s internal divisions, overreliance on parliamentary politics, and failure to build coalitions left it ill-equipped to counter the Nazi rise to power. This failure, compounded by underestimating fascist propaganda and the appeal of radical solutions to economic and social crises, contributed to the erosion of democracy.
Modern America presents a different dynamic, lacking a true left-wing political party akin to the SPD. The Democratic National Committee (DNC), often mislabeled as "leftist," "socialist," or even "radical," is fundamentally a neoliberal, center-right, pro-capitalist party committed to incremental reforms. Its policies—expanding healthcare access while preserving private insurers, implementing modest corporate tax increases—reflect a preference for maintaining the status quo over systemic change. Without a genuine leftist counterpart, the DNC becomes a convenient target for far-right critiques that conflate moderate reforms with socialism, exploiting public misconceptions and fears of government overreach.
Although the DNC has pursued initiatives such as expanding voter access, addressing systemic racism, and championing climate action, these efforts often lack the boldness required to counter rising authoritarianism. Incrementalism and corporate ties alienate its base while reinforcing far-right caricatures of the party as "radical." This dynamic serves both major parties, as neither has an interest in empowering a true anti-capitalist left that could challenge entrenched systems of wealth and power. As a result, the far-right gains traction by demonizing a fictitious "radical left," while the DNC remains a moderate defender of the status quo, unwilling to redefine the narrative or enact transformative change.
The SPD’s failure to counter the Nazis underscores the risks of complacency. It underestimated how radical right-wing movements exploited fear and division to shift public discourse. Similarly, the DNC struggles to confront the far-right’s use of digital ecosystems to amplify disinformation and outrage. For example, the SPD failed to build coalitions with other leftist groups, such as the communists, despite shared opposition to the Nazis, and relied too heavily on parliamentary mechanisms while the Nazis mobilized grassroots support. In modern parallels, the DNC has been slow to counter viral disinformation campaigns, such as “Pizzagate” or false claims about voter fraud, while its messaging often lacks the immediacy and emotional resonance of far-right narratives on social media.
Both the SPD and the DNC illustrate the perils of playing by rules that authoritarian movements have discarded. Complacency, internal divisions, and an inability to counter disinformation create fertile ground for authoritarian ideologies. Combating these threats requires proactive, unified, and strategic action—not reliance on incremental reforms or adherence to a status quo that perpetuates inequality.
The lesson is clear: safeguarding a democracy under attack by fascists demands bold, collective action. The failures of the SPD and the challenges facing the DNC highlight the need for systemic accountability, grassroots mobilization, and transformative change. No single party can secure democracy alone; only unified resistance and a commitment to justice can prevail against the rise of authoritarianism.
The Actual Left
To situate the Democratic National Committee (DNC) within the broader political spectrum, it’s essential to examine historical and contemporary examples of communism, socialism, and anarchism. These ideologies, often misrepresented in modern discourse, highlight stark contrasts with the DNC’s center-right policy orientation.
In 1930s Germany, the interplay between communism, socialism, and anarchism was evident during the rise of fascism. The Communist Party of Germany (KPD) and the Social Democratic Party (SPD) represented two major factions of the left but frequently clashed over strategy. The KPD labeled the SPD “social fascists” for maintaining the capitalist system, creating a rift that weakened their resistance to the Nazi Party. Anarchists, though smaller in number, criticized both parties for failing to mobilize effectively against authoritarianism. These divisions fractured the opposition, allowing the Nazis to consolidate power.
Similar struggles within the left occurred across Europe. In Spain during the Civil War, anarchists and communists fought Franco’s fascist forces but faced deep internal divisions. These ideological tensions highlight the challenges of uniting diverse movements under a common cause—lessons that resonate in today’s discussions of progressive coalitions.
Communism, as envisioned by Karl Marx and Friedrich Engels, advocates for a classless, stateless society with collective ownership of production. Historical attempts to implement communism, such as the Soviet Union under Lenin and Stalin, often diverged significantly from Marxist ideals, becoming authoritarian regimes. Modern examples like Cuba and China illustrate varying interpretations of communism. Cuba remains closer to socialist ideals with universal healthcare and education but struggles economically under U.S. sanctions. China, while nominally communist, operates a hybrid system with significant capitalist elements.
Socialism, distinct from communism, advocates for social ownership and economic equality but often exists within democratic frameworks. Sweden’s democratic socialism, for instance, built a robust welfare state with universal healthcare and worker protections while maintaining market mechanisms. In the U.S., figures like Bernie Sanders and Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez align with democratic socialist traditions, advocating policies such as Medicare for All and tuition-free public college.
Anarchism rejects centralized control and hierarchical structures, emphasizing self-governed societies organized through mutual aid and voluntary cooperation. Historical examples include Catalonia during the Spanish Civil War and modern movements like the Zapatistas in Mexico and the Kurdish-led Rojava region in Syria. These efforts demonstrate anarchism’s adaptability in resisting authoritarianism and building community-based systems.
By contrast, the DNC supports regulated capitalism, incremental reforms, and policies that uphold the status quo of wealth distribution. Its healthcare policies expand access to private insurance rather than pursuing universal systems, and its economic policies favor modest tax increases over significant redistribution. These positions place the DNC firmly in the center-right of the political spectrum, far from the transformative goals of socialism, communism, or anarchism.
Right-wing rhetoric frequently conflates the DNC with socialism or communism, exploiting misunderstandings to discredit even modest reforms. For example, the Affordable Care Act was labeled “socialist” despite its reliance on private insurers. This misrepresentation skews public perception, framing incremental policies as radical overhauls.
The absence of a robust left-wing movement in the U.S. stems from historical suppression, cultural factors, and systemic barriers. McCarthyism, Red Scare-era policies, and the criminalization of leftist organizations dismantled these movements and stigmatized their ideologies. The dominance of the Democratic and Republican parties, coupled with systemic exclusion of third-party efforts, further limits leftist influence. Incrementalist approaches, such as those advocated by Bernie Sanders or the Democratic Socialists of America (DSA), reflect the structural constraints on pursuing more revolutionary goals.
To counter the rise of fascism and prevent history from repeating itself, the DNC must evolve into a unifying force. It must reconcile individualism and collectivism under an umbrella of interconnectedness—recognizing that people, communities, and the planet are fundamentally linked. Likewise, it must balance competition and cooperation, fostering collaboration over hyper-individualism, unchecked competition, and social Darwinist ideologies that glorify a “war of all against all.”
A coalition that brings together the actual left—communists, socialists, and anarchists—and center-right moderates requires mutual respect, open dialogue, and shared objectives. If the DNC fails to take on this role, it risks repeating the SPD’s mistakes, leaving leftist movements vulnerable to suppression and the far-right unchallenged. Leadership rooted in solidarity and collective purpose is essential to securing a future of justice, equality, and democracy.
The Fractured Right
One of the most underexamined but critically important dynamics in the rise of modern far-right movements is the tenuous relationship between authoritarian and anti-authoritarian right-wing factions. This uneasy coalition—between conservatives and fascists on one side and right-libertarians and anarcho-capitalists on the other—often masks deep ideological contradictions that should, in theory, make them political enemies. Yet time and again, they find themselves standing shoulder to shoulder, not because of shared long-term goals, but because of converging short-term interests and a shared opposition to the left.
The authoritarian and ultra-authoritarian right—which includes traditional conservatives, nationalists, and outright fascists—seeks control, hierarchy, and order. Conservatism, at its core, is about preserving existing power structures and resisting radical social change, while fascism takes this further, seeking the violent restructuring of society around ethnic, national, or ideological purity.
While these groups may differ in how extreme they are willing to be, they often align politically because conservatism, by its nature, serves as a gateway to authoritarianism when faced with perceived threats to the status quo. Mainstream conservatives may disavow outright fascism, but they frequently enable or appease its growth—either through inaction, political alliances, or gradual concessions to its rhetoric. This dynamic has played out in history time and again: in Weimar Germany, mainstream conservatives thought they could "control" the Nazi movement and use it for their own purposes—only to be swept away as Hitler consolidated power. The same pattern played out with Franco’s Spain, Pinochet’s Chile, and even Trumpism in the United States, where establishment conservatives initially dismissed Trump as an outsider, only to embrace and normalize his movement, and then later found themselves discarded and made into enemies and traitors as “RINOs.”
At its core, the authoritarian right values power over principle. It will co-opt, tolerate, or outright absorb fascist elements if doing so secures its political dominance. And when the time comes, many conservatives will either acquiesce to ultra-authoritarian rule or be discarded by it.
At the other end of the spectrum, the anti-authoritarian and ultra-anti-authoritarian right includes right-liberals, libertarians, and anarcho-capitalists—ideologies that claim to be radically individualist, anti-state, and opposed to centralized power. On paper, they should be natural enemies of conservatives and fascists, since both seek control, hierarchy, and enforcement of social norms through coercion. Yet despite their ideological commitment to “freedom” and “small government,” these groups frequently ally with authoritarian conservatives and even fascists in their shared opposition to leftist economics and social policies.
This contradiction manifests in several ways:
Right-libertarians and anarcho-capitalists often believe they can "ride the wave" of right-wing populism to dismantle state power, not realizing that authoritarianism doesn’t shrink the state—it redirects it toward oppression. Time and again, right-libertarian-leaning figures have thrown their support behind strongmen who promise to "shrink government" but instead expand state power in ways they never intended.
Right-libertarians and anarcho-capitalists frequently downplay the dangers of fascism, seeing it as a lesser evil compared to state socialism or wealth redistribution. This has led to bizarre alliances where supposed "anti-authoritarians" end up defending or making excuses for actual authoritarians simply because their economic policies align.
Once fascism rises to power, it has no use for right-libertarians or anarcho-capitalists. Historically, these groups have been some of the first to be purged when authoritarian movements solidify control. The Nazis incorporated right-wing industrialists and capitalists as long as they were useful—and then stripped them of autonomy when they outlived their purpose. The same has happened in modern times, as authoritarian regimes use right-libertarian rhetoric to seize power before implementing policies that completely contradict right-libertarian ideals.
This fragile alliance between authoritarian right-wingers and anti-authoritarian right-wingers functions only for as long as there is a common enemy—social democracy, leftism, labor movements, or civil rights activism. But in the long run, these factions are not compatible. The authoritarian right wants to control everything. The libertarian right wants to control nothing. The fascist sees hierarchy as a moral imperative. The anarcho-capitalist sees it as a market failure.
The end result is almost always the same: when the right gains power, it is the authoritarian faction that wins. The right-libertarian and anarcho-capitalist factions may have helped open the door, but they will be among the first to be pushed out when the new regime solidifies. Their mistake is believing that authoritarianism can ever be a temporary means to an end. Once the state expands its power in the name of nationalism, cultural enforcement, or "stability," it does not simply step aside for deregulated markets. It consumes everything in its path.
Understanding this schism within the right is crucial for those resisting authoritarianism. Many right-libertarians and right-liberals do not realize how close they are to being consumed by the very forces they align with. They are not unreachable. While they may reject left-wing economic policies, they still have an ideological opposition to authoritarianism that can be engaged with—if done correctly.
For progressives and leftists, the strategy should not be to dismiss these groups outright, but to expose the contradictions in their alliances and offer a more compelling vision of freedom. If they genuinely oppose authoritarianism, they must be made to understand that fascism is not a temporary tool—it is a permanent threat. The goal should be to pull them away from the authoritarian right before they are inevitably betrayed by it.
At the same time, the left must avoid making the same mistake as the libertarians—believing that temporary alliances with right-wing forces can be controlled. Just as mainstream conservatives thought they could "manage" the rise of fascism in the 20th century and failed, progressives must recognize that liberal institutions will not hold up on their own. Resistance requires a clear, compelling vision—not just opposition, but an alternative.
The authoritarian right thrives on exploiting contradictions and absorbing ideological opponents. Understanding its internal fractures is key to preventing its consolidation of power. Because once fascism fully takes hold, it no longer needs allies. It only needs obedience.
Reactionary Masculinity: Chauvinism, the Incel Movement, and the Radicalization of Young Men
Fascism has always relied on reactionary masculinity—the belief that traditional gender roles, male dominance, and female submission are fundamental to a stable society. The fascist ideal of masculinity is one of aggression, hierarchy, and control, positioning men as natural rulers and women as either submissive supporters or degenerate threats to social order. In the modern era, this ideology has found new life in digital spaces, fueled by a backlash against feminism, economic instability, and shifting social norms.
A misunderstood and misrepresented feminism has been framed as an existential threat to male identity, and this perception has radicalized an entire generation of young men, shaping their political ideology in ways that often drive them toward neofascism. The rise of incel culture, the Gamergate movement, and online male supremacist communities has created a pipeline that pushes disaffected young men toward misogyny, conspiracy theories, and ultimately, authoritarian politics. These movements, which often begin as spaces of shared frustration and grievance, frequently escalate into organized campaigns of harassment, disinformation, and violence.
Chauvinism as a Reactionary Force
At its core, chauvinism is the belief in male superiority, particularly in the social, sexual, and economic arenas. This belief has been entrenched in human societies for millennia, reinforced by religion, law, and social norms. In a patriarchal world, men were expected to dominate the household, the workforce, and the political sphere, while women were relegated to supporting roles. However, as feminist movements successfully challenged these traditional roles, they also disrupted male identity in ways that many men found unsettling or threatening. With each successive wave of feminism, chauvinism—rather than fading—evolved as a reactionary force.
This reaction has often taken the form of resentment, backlash, and myth-making about feminism’s goals. First-wave feminism, which fought for women’s suffrage, was met with arguments that giving women the vote would destroy the family structure and upend social order. Second-wave feminism of the 1960s to 1980s was framed as an attack on men’s traditional privileges, with conservative forces warning of a decline in masculinity and the death of the nuclear family. By the time of third-wave feminism, with its emphasis on intersectionality and gender deconstruction, opponents of feminism began claiming that the movement sought to erase male identity entirely.
As feminism continued to advance, reactionary masculinity took new forms. No longer solely rooted in religious or conservative political spaces, it found new energy in digital communities that positioned themselves as the last defense against an increasingly "feminized" world. By the early 2000s, the internet became a breeding ground for male grievance narratives, fostering a radical backlash against feminism that would culminate in Gamergate, the incel movement, and the broader manosphere.
Gamergate: The Digital Backlash Against Feminism
Gamergate, which erupted in 2014, was one of the most significant radicalization moments for young men online. It was framed as a movement for "ethics in gaming journalism," but in reality, it was a coordinated harassment campaign against women in gaming, tech, and media. What began as a toxic reaction to feminist criticism of video games quickly mutated into a broader attack on women in public life, reinforcing deeply misogynistic beliefs: that feminists were trying to "ruin" male spaces, that women in media were undeserving of success, and that men were being systematically targeted in an effort to "feminize" culture.
The Gamergate movement was a crucial pipeline to the alt-right and modern neofascist movements. It created an us-versus-them narrative, convincing young men that they were engaged in a cultural war where feminists and progressives were the enemy. Through Gamergate, thousands of young men were radicalized into believing that "woke" culture was an existential threat, a belief that seamlessly translated into support for reactionary, anti-feminist politicians; the spread of conspiracy theories about liberal elites controlling the media; and open hostility toward diversity, equity, and inclusion in all industries. By the time Gamergate lost mainstream visibility, its most extreme members had already found their way to the alt-right, neofascism, and violent incel ideology.
The Incel Movement: From Male Disillusionment to Radicalization
The term "incel" (involuntary celibate) was originally coined by a Canadian woman in the 1990s as a neutral term to describe anyone struggling with romantic relationships. However, in the 2010s, online communities on 4chan, Reddit, and various incel forums repurposed the term into a toxic ideology centered on male entitlement, misogyny, and violent resentment toward women.
The incel belief system revolves around four key grievances. First, they argue that women are hypergamous, meaning they will only date the most attractive and successful men, leaving average or "beta" men with no romantic prospects. Second, they claim that the sexual marketplace is rigged and that feminism has given women too much freedom, allowing them to choose their partners rather than submitting to arranged or socially enforced pairings. Third, they believe that men are owed sex, insisting that access to female partners should be a guaranteed right, and that modern dating culture is unnatural and unjust. Finally, the most extreme incels advocate for violence, viewing it as a solution to their frustrations, with some even calling for government-enforced marriage policies to redistribute sex.
This ideology has produced real-world consequences, with several mass shootings linked to incel radicalization. The most notorious include Elliot Rodger’s 2014 attack in Isla Vista, California, in which he killed six people after posting a manifesto blaming women for his lack of sexual success; Alek Minassian’s 2018 van attack in Toronto, which killed ten people and was declared the beginning of the "Incel Rebellion"; and Jake Davison’s 2021 shooting spree in the UK, which he justified with incel ideology. The overlap between incel ideology and fascism is clear: both rely on hierarchy, grievance politics, and violent resentment toward perceived enemies.
Why This Matters: The Recruitment of Young Men into Neofascism
The rise of chauvinism, Gamergate, and the incel movement has radicalized an entire generation of young men, making them prime recruits for neofascist movements. These young men are told that progressives are feminizing them, that women are replacing them, and that diversity is oppression. The fascist movement welcomes them with open arms, offering them a place in a grand, mythical struggle against modernity, feminism, and multiculturalism.
Understanding this recruitment strategy is crucial to dismantling it. The antidote is not demonizing men, but offering alternative narratives of masculinity that do not rely on dominance, misogyny, or victimhood. If progressives fail to engage with young men in a meaningful way, the neofascist movement will be more than happy to do it for them. A generation of angry, disillusioned men will not remain politically neutral. They will either be recruited by fascists or offered a healthier, more constructive alternative.
Neofascists, Neo-Nazis, and the Armed Extremist Underground
Fascism is not a monolith. While all fascist movements share common themes—authoritarian nationalism, hierarchy, and scapegoating of marginalized groups—they do not manifest in identical ways. In the modern era, fascism has fractured into distinct ideological and operational branches, with neofascists working to mainstream their politics, while neo-Nazis, militias, criminal syndicates, and paramilitary groups function as enforcers of violence and terror.
Understanding these distinctions is essential. Calling a neofascist a "neo-Nazi" gives them an easy way to dismiss criticism and claim victimhood. While neofascists and neo-Nazis often operate in parallel, they do so with different strategies and objectives. Neofascists work to legitimize authoritarianism within existing institutions, presenting themselves as nationalists or cultural defenders. Neo-Nazis, by contrast, model themselves on the Third Reich, embracing Nazi mythology and violence. But beyond these ideological factions lies a more diffuse, dangerous force: organized crime syndicates, cartels, militias, street gangs, and prison gangs.
These groups do not always share a single ideology, but they operate through parallel structures of power and violence. In some cases, these criminal networks work with neofascists and kleptocrats, forming alliances of convenience. In others, they operate independently, wielding authoritarian control over entire communities. While their motives may be different—political, financial, or territorial—their methods are often the same: intimidation, corruption, and extreme violence.
Unlike neofascist politicians, who rely on electoral legitimacy, or neo-Nazi ideologues, who seek a racial revolution, these armed criminal organizations enforce power directly, through fear and force. This creates a multi-front battle against authoritarianism, requiring resistance movements to recognize that not all enemies can be fought the same way. While legal, political, and social pressure can be effective against neofascists, direct confrontation with neo-Nazis, cartels, and gangs is extremely dangerous. These groups are not only heavily armed and well-organized, but they also have no ethical restraints on violence. Unlike political extremists who fear reputational damage, these organizations will retaliate against civilians, friends, family members, and entire communities to maintain power.
This reality is why resisting these forces requires careful strategy, not reckless heroism. Direct confrontation is best handled by trained, professional law enforcement and military units, and one of the reasons I am a moderate rather than an extreme libertarian is my deep gratitude for the role these institutions play in protecting society from such threats.
Neofascists: The Political Extremists Who Distance Themselves from Nazism
Neofascists often avoid Nazi symbolism to maintain a sense of mainstream legitimacy. Figures like Marine Le Pen, Jair Bolsonaro, and Donald Trump engage in fascist politics but reject explicit neo-Nazi associations in favor of "populist nationalism." Their rhetoric is often cloaked in coded language, using terms like "replacement theory," "Western chauvinism," and "law and order" to push fascist narratives while avoiding the stigma of outright white supremacy.
While neofascists publicly distance themselves from overt violence, they cultivate an ecosystem of extremism in which militias, street gangs, and organized crime networks act as enforcers. These actors operate on the fringes, engaging in violence and intimidation that benefits neofascist agendas while allowing mainstream politicians to claim plausible deniability.
Neo-Nazis: The Mythologized Armed Wing of Modern Fascism
Unlike neofascists, neo-Nazis embrace Nazi mythology and violence outright. They model themselves on the SA and SS, idolizing figures like Himmler and Heydrich, and openly calling for the collapse of democracy in favor of an ethnostate. Groups like Atomwaffen Division, The Base, and various neo-Nazi militias prepare for a race war, training for domestic terrorism rather than electoral victory. Their ideological ancestors, the SA brownshirts of 1920s Germany, waged street battles, assassinations, and intimidation campaigns—a playbook that today’s neo-Nazis follow closely.
Neo-Nazi gangs and militias operate both inside and outside the prison system, recruiting disenfranchised white men into racial supremacist organizations. These groups, including the Aryan Brotherhood and various white power prison gangs, funnel recruits from prison into street-level enforcement networks, ensuring that violence continues both inside and outside state institutions.
The Role of Street Gangs, Prison Gangs, and Organized Crime Syndicates
Beyond neofascists and neo-Nazis, a broader category of armed, non-state actors wields authoritarian power over entire communities. Street gangs, prison gangs, and cartels are often dismissed as apolitical criminal enterprises, but in reality, they function as authoritarian regimes in miniature, ruling through force, intimidation, and economic control.
Street gangs are particularly powerful in destabilized communities where economic and social structures have collapsed. In some cases, these gangs become militarized factions, enforcing local rule through extrajudicial killings and extortion. Their methods of control often resemble those of fascist paramilitaries, relying on violence to maintain territory, suppress dissent, and recruit new members.
Prison gangs, meanwhile, operate as organized crime syndicates within carceral institutions, enforcing racial divisions and engaging in drug smuggling, extortion, and political intimidation. Groups like the Mexican Mafia (La Eme), the Aryan Brotherhood, and the Black Guerrilla Family control vast networks both inside and outside prisons, leveraging their institutional knowledge, connections to corrupt officials, and ruthless enforcement tactics.
Cartels take this model to the extreme, operating as non-state military forces capable of confronting governments directly. Unlike most street gangs, which control neighborhoods or cities, cartels exert power over entire nations, wielding paramilitary capabilities that rival some national armies. These organizations thrive in failed or compromised states, co-opting political figures, law enforcement agencies, and even military factions.
How to Resist Armed Fascists, Gangs, and Cartels
Resisting these forces requires a multi-layered approach. While public exposure, political activism, and legal accountability are effective against neofascists, direct confrontation with violent extremists, paramilitaries, and criminal networks is dangerous even for heavily armed professionals. These groups will not hesitate to target civilians, torture captives, or engage in mass killings. Even law enforcement and military units struggle to combat them without significant casualties.
For this reason, resisting these groups is not about reckless direct action—it is about outmaneuvering them strategically. The best resistance tactics include:
Public exposure – Removing the anonymity of extremist leaders and networks, making them accountable to legal systems.
Financial disruption – Cutting off funding sources by exposing money laundering and illicit financial networks.
Strengthening democratic institutions – Ensuring that state mechanisms remain resilient against fascist and criminal infiltration.
Community protection networks – Strengthening nonviolent but organized community safety initiatives that can respond to threats.
Supporting state security forces against extremist violence – Recognizing the necessity of law enforcement and military in preventing armed fascist coups, gang control, and cartel rule.
Without state enforcement mechanisms, law enforcement, and military resources, we risk ceding entire regions to violent non-state actors. This is why I am a moderate rather than an extreme libertarian—because while state overreach must always be resisted, some level of state security is necessary to prevent violent factions from ruling through terror. The fight against fascism is not just a battle of ideas. It is a battle against real-world violence, coercion, and organized terror.
Techno-Utopianism
Arguably, the most powerful political force shaping the future today is not governments, religions, militaries, or even mass movements—it is technology and the ultra-wealthy elite who wield it. From the ideological promises of technological utopianism to the unchecked acceleration of AI, automation, and surveillance, we are being propelled into a world that no one—not the policymakers, not the public, not even the tech leaders themselves—fully understands or controls. The central problem is not just the speed of technological change, but the power asymmetry it creates. The same tools that have empowered resistance movements—AI, social media, encrypted communication—have also given fascists, corporations, and autocrats unprecedented control over information, wealth, and human life itself.
The Singularity and Transhumanism
For decades, many in the technological elite have promoted the Singularity—the idea that AI, automation, and transhumanist advancements will lead to a radical transformation of human civilization. Some see this as a utopian moment when human consciousness will merge with machines, when intelligence will become infinite, and when suffering will end. Others see it as an inevitable leap forward, with or without public consent. Billionaire-backed projects like brain-computer interfaces, life extension research, and AI superintelligence are being pursued not as democratic endeavors for the public good, but as private pet projects for the hyper-wealthy elite—those who already own the infrastructure of the modern world.
There is a cult-like belief among some in Silicon Valley that technology will "solve" all human problems—inequality, death, suffering, governance—while conveniently ignoring the fact that the people funding these projects are some of the greatest beneficiaries of global inequality and exploitation. These techno-libertarian and transhumanist ideologies frame disruption as inherently good, centralization as inherently efficient, and any resistance to rapid technological change as "Luddism" or fearmongering. This ideological fixation blinds many within the tech world to the actual social, political, and ethical consequences of their innovations.
Uncontrolled Transformation
The problem with technological accelerationism is that it assumes societies can instantaneously adapt to radical shifts in economics, governance, and daily life. In reality, the infrastructure of civilization—laws, ethics, social norms, and human psychology—evolves at a much slower pace. Right now, the world is being violently reshaped by technologies that the public barely understands, let alone consents to.
Consider the following:
Automation and AI are permanently eliminating jobs at a scale that economic systems are not prepared to address.
Cryptocurrency and decentralized finance have created a lawless financial Wild West, empowering wealth hoarding, tax evasion, and economic instability.
Mass surveillance and data tracking have made privacy nearly impossible, turning human behavior into a commodity controlled by corporations and governments.
Drones, robotics, and AI-enhanced warfare have created the ability for nation-states and private actors to wage untraceable, remote-controlled violence.
Social media algorithms have weaponized outrage, misinformation, and division at an unprecedented scale.
The fundamental issue is not that these technologies exist—but that they are being developed, deployed, and controlled by an ultra-powerful few, with no real democratic oversight or ethical accountability. Those in power are not using AI to uplift the global poor, they are using it to increase productivity while cutting human labor costs. They are not using cryptocurrency to empower communities, they are using it to dodge regulation and amass more wealth.
Technology as a Tool of Control
For all the ways technology has aided resistance movements—from encrypted communication to whistleblower leaks—it has also given authoritarian regimes, corporations, and fascist movements an unprecedented arsenal of tools for control.
AI-enhanced propaganda and psychological manipulation allow bad actors to manufacture reality, making disinformation more powerful than ever before.
Mass data collection and predictive policing allow governments and corporations to suppress dissent before it even manifests.
Automated surveillance drones and facial recognition make organizing against authoritarianism riskier than ever.
Decentralized finance and cryptocurrency have created offshore economies for crime, corruption, and authoritarian funding, making financial sanctions and international law less effective.
These are not future threats—they are happening now. China’s social credit system already enforces political obedience through AI-driven surveillance. U.S. police departments use facial recognition and predictive AI tools to disproportionately target marginalized communities. Private intelligence firms sell advanced tracking and surveillance software to autocratic regimes worldwide. And neofascist groups are already leveraging AI, cryptocurrencies, and digital networks to recruit, organize, and evade deplatforming.
Techniques for Resistance
If resistance movements are to counteract the rise of techno-authoritarianism, they must adopt a more sophisticated, adaptive approach—one that does not just react to new technologies, but actively anticipates and disrupts their worst uses.
This means:
Developing open-source, decentralized technology alternatives that prevent corporate and governmental monopolization.
Strengthening digital literacy and security awareness to ensure activists can organize without being tracked, manipulated, or infiltrated.
Challenging the ideological myths of technological utopianism, making it clear that progress without ethics is not progress—it is catastrophe.
Reclaiming public control over technological development—ensuring that AI, automation, and digital finance do not just serve elite interests but are subject to democratic governance.
Building parallel economic systems that reduce reliance on centralized control—whether through cooperatively owned digital infrastructure, worker-controlled automation, or alternative currencies rooted in community use rather than speculation.
This is not a Luddite argument against technology—it is a recognition that technology is not inherently liberatory or oppressive. It is a tool. And who controls it determines whether it serves democracy or dismantles it.
Right now, we are not winning that battle. The people with the most power over technology are not interested in justice, equity, or human dignity. They are interested in control, profit, and longevity—and they are designing the future accordingly.
The Future is Not Inevitable—It is Contested
The greatest lie that Silicon Valley and techno-utopians tell us is that the future is inevitable, that there is no alternative, that we must simply accept the next wave of automation, AI, and surveillance as a given. This fatalistic view of progress is designed to pacify resistance—to make people feel powerless in the face of technological forces that seem too vast to challenge.
But the future is not something that just happens to us. It is something we shape.
If we do not take control of how these technologies are developed, used, and distributed, fascists, oligarchs, and kleptocrats will. The same tools that allow activists to mobilize millions can also be used to automate oppression at a scale never seen before.
This is not science fiction. This is the world being built right now. The question is: Who gets to decide what comes next?
Resistance in the 21st century is not just about fighting political movements—it is about fighting for control over the tools that define human existence. And if we fail to do that, we may wake up in a future where fascism is not just an ideology, but a fully automated, algorithmically enforced system that no one—not even its creators—can turn off.
Religious Millennialism & Fascism
Fascist ideology has always thrived on grandiose promises of renewal, destiny, and national rebirth—visions that align disturbingly well with religious millennialist movements. The Thousand-Year Reich envisioned by the Nazis was not simply a political fantasy; it was an apocalyptic religious prophecy dressed in nationalist garb, invoking both the divine right to rule and the inevitability of an ordained utopia. Similarly, modern neofascist movements draw from the deep well of religious millennialist thinking, positioning their cause as not just a political struggle but a cosmic battle between light and darkness, good and evil, the saved and the damned.
The core of millennialist ideology is the promise of a coming golden age, a final victory over chaos, sin, or degeneracy, where the faithful—whether defined by nation, race, or religious conviction—will reign supreme. Historically, millennialist beliefs have manifested in various ways:
Christian eschatology envisions the Second Coming of Christ and a thousand-year reign of righteousness before the final battle between good and evil.
Fascist propaganda reworks this into a secular but similarly apocalyptic vision—a struggle to cleanse the nation of enemies before the arrival of a utopian national rebirth.
American exceptionalism and Manifest Destiny are deeply tied to millennialist thinking, positioning the United States as a divinely chosen nation destined to lead the world.
Where religious millennialism and fascism converge is in their shared disdain for uncertainty, progress, and pluralism. Both see the world as having fallen from a lost golden age—whether that is Eden, the Christian empire, or an imagined era of national greatness—and believe that only through extreme purification and struggle can paradise be restored. These belief systems are inherently reactionary, rejecting the idea of incremental progress, coexistence, or compromise in favor of absolute victory over perceived enemies.
This fusion of religious apocalypticism and political authoritarianism is not just a relic of the past—it is central to the modern far-right movement. In the U.S., Christian nationalist rhetoric fuels neofascist ambitions, with political leaders and televangelists alike invoking biblical prophecy to justify nationalist, theocratic, and even violent ends. The QAnon movement, for example, is a modern millennialist cult, repurposing old apocalyptic myths to frame Trump’s presidency as a divine battle against evil elites. The January 6th insurrection was steeped in this religious fervor, with rioters praying on the Senate floor, waving Christian nationalist banners, and invoking spiritual warfare rhetoric to justify their actions.
The danger of this double river of authoritarianism—one political, one religious—is that it does not fight on just one front. Resistance to modern neofascism must recognize that the battle is not against a singular political ideology but against a dual force—a secular movement seeking total control and a religious movement seeking apocalyptic transformation. These two ideologies reinforce one another, creating a feedback loop of radicalization where political leaders invoke divine destiny and religious figures legitimize authoritarian rule as part of God’s plan.
Resisting modern neofascism means breaking this cycle, exposing the myth of the lost golden age, and dismantling the illusion of an ordained future. The promise of a Thousand-Year Reich, a New Jerusalem, or a national rebirth through fire is not a prophecy—it is a propaganda tool designed to justify oppression, division, and mass violence. The true lesson of history is that there is no destined golden age—only the societies we choose to build together.
If we do not recognize the religious dimension of neofascism, we will continue fighting only half the battle. True resistance means not just challenging political extremism but also confronting the apocalyptic thinking that fuels it, offering a real, tangible vision of justice, solidarity, and human dignity that is not based on myths of return but on a future shaped by our collective action.
Resistance
Movements like the Civil Rights Movement in the U.S. or the Solidarity Movement in Poland demonstrate the power of grassroots mobilization to challenge entrenched systems and authoritarian forces. For instance, during World War II, resistance movements such as the French Resistance fought back against Nazi occupation through sabotage, intelligence gathering, and public demonstrations, undermining fascist control. In Italy, widespread public opposition and partisan actions contributed to the fall of Mussolini’s regime in 1943. Similarly, in the Philippines, the People Power Revolution of 1986 used nonviolent protests to oust Ferdinand Marcos and dismantle his kleptocratic regime.
The Civil Rights Movement in the U.S. remains one of the most iconic examples of grassroots resistance in modern history. Through boycotts, sit-ins, marches, and court challenges, activists dismantled entrenched systems of racial segregation and fought for equal rights under the law. Leaders like Martin Luther King Jr., Rosa Parks, and John Lewis, along with countless unnamed activists, faced violence and repression yet persevered, achieving victories such as the Civil Rights Act of 1964 and the Voting Rights Act of 1965. This movement serves as a powerful reminder that sustained, collective action can overcome even deeply institutionalized oppression.
Similarly, the Suffrage Movement demonstrated the transformative power of grassroots organizing. From the late 19th century through the early 20th century, women across the globe demanded the right to vote, facing ridicule, imprisonment, and violence. In the U.S., figures like Susan B. Anthony, Sojourner Truth, and Alice Paul led campaigns that culminated in the passage of the 19th Amendment in 1920. Meanwhile, British suffragettes like Emmeline Pankhurst used both peaceful and militant tactics to push for women’s enfranchisement, succeeding with the Representation of the People Act of 1918 and later the Equal Franchise Act of 1928. These movements not only reshaped political systems but also challenged societal norms about gender and power.
These struggles are part of a larger portion of history that includes the transition from monarchy to republics and from colonies to independent nations. The American Revolution of the 18th century set a precedent for rejecting hereditary rule, establishing the United States as one of the first modern republics born from the ideals of self-determination and democratic governance. Similarly, the French Revolution dismantled the monarchy, replacing it with a republic grounded in principles of liberty, equality, and fraternity, though not without immense sacrifice and upheaval. In the 20th century, the decolonization movements across Africa, Asia, and the Caribbean saw nations reclaiming their sovereignty from imperial powers. India’s independence from British rule, achieved through a combination of mass protests, civil disobedience, and diplomacy, stands as a testament to the transformative power of collective action.
Even resistance movements that did not achieve their immediate goals continue to inspire us with their courage and determination. The Warsaw Ghetto Uprising of 1943, though ultimately crushed by the Nazis, stands as a symbol of defiance against unimaginable oppression, demonstrating the power of the human spirit to resist even in the darkest of times. Similarly, the Underground Railroad, while unable to abolish slavery on its own, saved countless lives and laid the groundwork for broader abolitionist efforts. These acts of resistance remind us that the fight for justice is often a long, generational struggle, and that even partial victories or symbolic acts of defiance can have profound ripple effects.
In contemporary times, resistance to illiberalism continues across the globe. In Belarus, the 2020-2021 protests against Alexander Lukashenko’s regime showcased the bravery of citizens challenging decades of authoritarian rule. In Hong Kong, the 2019 pro-democracy protests saw millions take to the streets to oppose encroachments on their freedoms by Beijing. Despite brutal crackdowns, these movements kept the struggle for democracy alive. In Russia, opposition figures like Alexei Navalny and his supporters persist in challenging Vladimir Putin’s kleptocratic regime, often at great personal risk (Navalny was, as far as can be logically deduced, killed by the regime in 2024.) Meanwhile, grassroots efforts in countries like Myanmar, where the military coup in 2021 dismantled democratic progress, continue to resist through protests, strikes, and underground networks. Even in Iran, where women-led protests in 2022 sparked global solidarity, activists continue to defy oppressive laws and demand systemic change.
These examples remind us that change originates not from the top but from collective action and sustained pressure from the people. Grassroots efforts expose the fragility of oppressive systems by uniting diverse groups around shared values and goals, proving that even the most entrenched regimes can be challenged when people come together. Whether overthrowing monarchs, expelling colonial powers, resisting authoritarian regimes, or inspiring future generations through acts of defiance, history consistently affirms the ability of ordinary people to shape extraordinary outcomes.
The History of Resistance
Resistance to authoritarianism is as old as authoritarianism itself. From the fall of monarchies to the collapse of colonial empires, from resistance movements against Nazi occupation to modern struggles against kleptocratic regimes, history provides a roadmap of what works, what doesn’t, and what remains untested. By learning from these movements, we can more effectively shape our strategies today.
Techniques That Work
History has shown that certain resistance techniques are consistently effective in challenging authoritarian rule, dismantling oppressive structures, and weakening fascist movements. These include:
Mass Nonviolent Protest & Civil Disobedience – Movements like the Civil Rights Movement in the U.S., the People Power Revolution in the Philippines, and the Solidarity Movement in Poland demonstrate that sustained, disciplined, nonviolent resistance can disrupt authoritarian regimes. Boycotts, strikes, and mass demonstrations create economic and political pressure that is difficult for regimes to suppress without eroding their legitimacy.
Sabotage & Disruption – The French Resistance during World War II effectively undermined Nazi occupation by sabotaging transportation, communications, and infrastructure. Similar tactics have been used against military juntas and occupying forces worldwide.
Underground Networks & Safe Havens – Resistance movements that survive long-term often develop clandestine networks to protect activists, facilitate escape routes, and coordinate operations. The Underground Railroad in the U.S., the Jewish resistance in Nazi-occupied Europe, and modern human rights organizations in authoritarian states all rely on similar tactics.
Public Exposure & Whistleblowing – Kleptocracies and authoritarian regimes depend on secrecy. Whistleblowers like Daniel Ellsberg (Pentagon Papers) and Edward Snowden (NSA Surveillance) have demonstrated that revealing government abuses can mobilize public outrage and force policy changes.
Leveraging International Pressure – Successful resistance movements often mobilize global support to increase diplomatic, economic, and political pressure. The anti-apartheid movement in South Africa leveraged global sanctions to force the collapse of the apartheid regime.
Techniques That Don't Work
Certain resistance tactics have historically backfired or proven ineffective, often strengthening authoritarian forces rather than weakening them:
Uncoordinated or Spontaneous Violence – While armed resistance has its place, unstructured or reactionary violence is easily used as justification for crackdowns. The Weather Underground in the U.S. and other radical leftist groups of the 1970s largely failed because their tactics alienated public support and justified increased state repression.
Infighting & Purity Politics – Many movements implode from within when ideological purism overtakes strategic unity. The Spanish Civil War’s anarchists and communists turned against each other, allowing Franco’s fascist forces to claim victory.
Reliance on a Single Charismatic Leader – Movements that place all their hope in one figure often collapse when that leader is imprisoned, exiled, or assassinated. The death of Malcolm X, Che Guevara, or Martin Luther King Jr. did not end their movements, but leaderless structures tend to survive longer.
Techniques We Don’t Have Enough Evidence For
Some modern resistance strategies are still too new to fully evaluate:
Hacking & Cyberwarfare – Groups like Anonymous have attempted digital resistance, targeting authoritarian regimes and corporate kleptocrats. While their attacks can be disruptive, they have yet to prove long-term strategic effectiveness.
Decentralized Autonomous Organizations (DAOs) & Crypto-Based Activism – Blockchain technology and decentralized online communities are being explored as tools for resistance in authoritarian states, but they are still vulnerable to state suppression and internal corruption.
Social Media Activism as a Standalone Strategy – Online activism can mobilize protests and expose injustice, but movements that rely entirely on digital platforms often fail to achieve real-world change. Algorithms also favor sensationalism over substance, making it difficult to maintain sustained pressure.
Techniques That Have Been Considered But Not Yet Tried
Some resistance tactics have been theorized but remain largely untested:
Mass Financial Disruption – Instead of standard economic boycotts, some theorists propose large-scale coordinated bank withdrawals or digital currency alternatives to challenge authoritarian economic power.
Universal General Strike – A total, global labor shutdown as a direct challenge to corporate kleptocracy has been suggested, but has never been fully attempted on a transnational scale.
AI-Based Disinformation Disruption – While authoritarian regimes use AI to control information, there is speculation about using AI to counteract propaganda and disrupt surveillance, though this is largely theoretical.
The Risk of Co-Opted Resistance
Resistance movements are inherently vulnerable—not just to external threats from authoritarian regimes, but also to internal corruption, opportunism, and co-optation. Throughout history, movements for justice and liberation have faced the risk of being hijacked by individuals or factions seeking to exploit them for personal, financial, or political gain. Wherever power accumulates, even in the most well-intentioned movements, there will be those who seek to manipulate it for their own benefit.
This is not just a theoretical concern. Many movements have been compromised from within—either by opportunists who saw a chance for personal advancement, by infiltrators seeking to dismantle the movement from inside, or by factions that diverted the movement’s resources toward their own agendas. If a resistance movement is to succeed, it must recognize these risks and actively defend against them. One of the most dangerous vulnerabilities of any movement is the centralization of financial resources. When a movement consolidates money into a single organization—a foundation, a nonprofit, a treasury—it invites corruption, mismanagement, and authoritarian leverage. A central financial entity creates a point of failure, making it easier for both internal bad actors and external forces to manipulate or dismantle the movement.
A resistance movement should never allow itself to be reduced to a financial pipeline controlled by a few leaders. Money has been the downfall of many movements—not always due to bad intent, but because wherever funds concentrate, corruption, inefficiency, and compromise follow. It is far too easy for authoritarian forces to freeze bank accounts, manufacture fraud accusations, coerce leaders through financial entanglements, or infiltrate and control the movement’s funding structures. The best way to prevent this is simple: money should not flow through any centralized organization. Instead, the movement should direct people toward independent, verified causes that need support, ensuring that resources go directly to those who need them rather than through bureaucratic or corruptible middlemen.
Beyond finances, another major internal threat to resistance movements is opportunistic individuals who seek to co-opt the movement for personal gain. Some use activism as a brand, monetizing outrage without taking meaningful action. Others position themselves as spokespeople or representatives despite having no legitimate mandate from the movement. The rise of career activists, nonprofit industrial complexes, and self-appointed "leaders" has diluted the effectiveness of many modern movements, turning them into performative, financially motivated institutions rather than actual forces for change.
There are also political grifters, individuals who use resistance movements to launch careers, gain social capital, or establish personal power. Some enter with good intentions but become consumed by personal ambition. Others deliberately exploit movements to gain media attention, secure lucrative speaking fees, or transition into positions of power within the very institutions they once claimed to oppose. A movement must recognize that not all who claim to be allies are truly invested in the cause. Some are simply invested in themselves.
To counter these risks, resistance movements must avoid financial centralization, vet anyone involved in economic activity, and remain cautious of self-serving figures who seek to redirect the movement’s energy into personal gain. When resistance leaders recommend donating money to a cause, they must be absolutely certain that the money will be used appropriately and ethically. Authoritarian regimes often create fake charities or controlled opposition groups to absorb and misdirect resistance funds, and poorly vetted organizations can quickly become financial sinkholes. Before endorsing any donation path, movements should thoroughly investigate recipients, ensuring transparency, accountability, and independence from state influence.
A movement that is financially decentralized is difficult to destroy. If one leader is compromised, it doesn’t mean the whole movement is. If one bank account is frozen, it doesn’t paralyze everything. If one organization is corrupted, the movement itself remains intact. By keeping financial structures diffuse, independent, and flexible, a resistance movement ensures that its economic lifelines cannot be easily severed, infiltrated, or controlled. A well-organized movement understands that money can be a tool, but it is also a liability—one that must be handled with extreme care.
At its best, a resistance movement is not just a collection of activists, but a living ecosystem—self-sustaining, incorruptible, and beyond the grasp of those who would seek to exploit or dismantle it. To remain effective, it must be rooted in its principles, vigilant in its structures, and fiercely resistant to the forces that would turn it into just another mechanism of power and profit.
Countering Extremist Propaganda
Countering extremist propaganda requires a multi-faceted approach that combines education, empathy, and systemic change. Preventative measures, targeted interventions, and efforts to foster critical thinking can help dissuade individuals on the fence and challenge entrenched beliefs. By equipping people with tools to critically evaluate information, fostering connections across divides, and addressing the root causes of discontent, we can build resilient communities that reject hate and embrace inclusivity. History and modern research show that propaganda thrives without vigilance, but they also demonstrate the power of collective action to uphold democratic values and human dignity.
Actually Address and Resolve Root Issues
Extremist propaganda thrives by exploiting real grievances—economic hardship, cultural alienation, and political disillusionment. Addressing these underlying issues is not only necessary for reducing susceptibility to radical narratives but also essential for building long-term resilience against the rise of neofascism. Without meaningful structural change, no amount of counter-messaging or fact-checking will prevent people from seeking answers in extremist ideologies.
Governments must prioritize economic revitalization in struggling areas rather than continuously funneling investment into already thriving regions. Economic despair, job loss, and systemic neglect create fertile ground for extremist recruitment. When people feel abandoned by political and economic systems, they become more receptive to narratives that provide a clear villain and a simple solution—whether that villain is immigrants, “globalists,” or political elites. Instead of reactive measures that only engage with extremism after it takes root, we need proactive policies that address systemic inequality at its core. Investing in job creation, education, and social services—particularly in historically disenfranchised and economically stagnant communities—disrupts the conditions that allow radical ideologies to take hold.
Beyond economic concerns, the left must acknowledge the cultural and psychological dimensions of alienation. Many people, particularly those raised in conservative environments, find certain elements of liberal and progressive culture deeply unsettling. This discomfort is not necessarily rooted in malice but in unfamiliarity, fear of social displacement, or perceived moral absolutism from the left. Dismissing these anxieties outright only deepens political polarization.
Instead of forcing assimilation into liberal cultural spaces, the left must engage with people where they are, not where we wish they were. This means creating dialogue that bridges ideological divides rather than entrenching them further. Not everyone will share the same social values, and that’s okay—what matters is building solidarity on shared economic and civic concerns. A movement that prioritizes economic justice, social stability, and political empowerment will be far more effective in countering extremism than one that alienates potential allies by demanding cultural conformity.
Real systemic change requires more than just exposing propaganda—it requires eliminating the material and social conditions that allow it to spread in the first place. Extremist recruitment is not just about ideology; it is about filling voids—economic, social, and psychological. The most effective way to counter radicalization is to ensure that people don’t feel abandoned in the first place.
Provide Alternative Identities and Purpose
We must recognize that extremist movements offer belonging, identity, and purpose, core human needs, and reflect on why some people who we have to assume are otherwise rational and reasonable are not getting these needs fulfilled from an ostensibly inclusive society, and address those problems directly.
The DNC must articulate a compelling counter-narrative to rugged individualism—not by embracing the label of collectivism imposed upon it by critics, but by championing interconnection as a unifying philosophy. This means reconciling the tension between competition and cooperation, recognizing that both are essential forces in human progress. A thriving society does not demand absolute conformity or cutthroat individualism but fosters collaboration through enlightened self-interest—where competition sharpens innovation and drives ambition, while cooperation ensures that no one is discarded in the pursuit of progress.
Likewise, we must redefine strength—not as domination or brute force, but as the ability to wield power with compassion, empathy, and mercy. Extremist ideologies prey on the false dichotomy between strength and weakness, portraying empathy as weakness and cruelty as power. The antidote is to reframe power itself: true strength is the ability to lift others up while holding firm against injustice. Exercising power with mercy is not a contradiction; it is the highest form of leadership. The most resilient communities are not those ruled by fear, but those built on mutual responsibility, where strength is measured not by who can dominate, but by who can empower.
Beyond the personal and political, we must also revisit our national political identity and rebalance our relationship with the world. The United States has long been caught in a self-destructive oscillation between isolationism and globalism, between localism and internationalism. Instead of falling into simplistic binaries, we must embrace concentric circles of political engagement—where loyalty to one’s local community, nation, and the international order are not mutually exclusive, but interconnected. A healthy political identity does not pit the local against the global; it recognizes that our responsibilities extend outward in widening spheres of solidarity.
This requires a reckoning with the deeply ingrained myths that have shaped American exceptionalism—Manifest Destiny, the City on a Hill ideal, and the Millennialist impulses that fuel both aggressive neofascism and paternalistic liberal interventionism. These narratives, whether invoked by imperialists or idealists, are just one step removed from colonialism, empire, and the self-righteous moral justification for domination. If the left is to counter authoritarianism and extremism effectively, it must acknowledge how America’s foundational myths continue to shape both reactionary and liberal politics.
If we fail to address these contradictions—if we continue to oscillate between unchecked individualism and forced collectivism, between isolationism and imperialism, between reckless competition and stifling conformity—we will continue creating the very conditions that allow extremism to thrive. The antidote is not simply to push in the opposite direction but to transcend the false dichotomies altogether: to build a society where individuals find purpose not in division, but in shared progress, where competition and cooperation strengthen rather than weaken one another, and where power is exercised with wisdom, restraint, and a deep sense of collective responsibility.
With a newly compelling worldview and narrative available, we must recognize that individuals who have found themselves involved in extremists movements cannot be brought out of them through isolation or punitive approaches alone. To counter this, society must provide compelling, constructive alternatives that offer not just connection, but a meaningful role within a greater whole. Programs like Sweden’s EXIT initiative help individuals leave extremist groups by offering social support, education, and job training, ensuring they do not feel cast adrift without an identity or purpose.
Joy, Affirmation, and the Power of Inspiration
Extremist movements do not just spread hate—they offer belonging, purpose, and identity wrapped in a powerful, emotionally charged narrative. People do not join movements simply because of ideology; they are drawn to causes that affirm, energize, and uplift them. If counter-extremism is framed only as a battle against hate, it risks becoming reactive—defined by opposition rather than vision. Instead, we must offer something more inspiring, something full of life, hope, and possibility.
Throughout history, the most transformative movements have not just fought oppression—they have cultivated joy as an act of defiance. The Civil Rights Movement had freedom songs that sustained its momentum. The labor movement had rallies that reinforced camaraderie and solidarity. Even in the darkest times, enslaved people created spirituals that carried messages of resistance but also affirmed endurance and hope. Joy has never been incidental to resistance—it has been an essential part of its power.
Fascist and authoritarian movements thrive on grievance and despair. They tell their followers that everything is lost, that the world is in decline, that there is nothing left to do but rage and destroy. We must counter this with a movement that says: there is still beauty, still hope, still possibility. A movement that does not just ask people to fight, but to build, to imagine, to create. If the only alternative to radicalization is cynicism, self-righteousness, or intellectual superiority, then we are failing. If we want to pull people away from extremism, we must create spaces of affirmation, belonging, and joy.
This means prioritizing art, music, and storytelling that inspire rather than just critique. It means creating communities that people actually want to be a part of—where they feel seen, valued, and nourished. Too often, activism is framed as a duty, an obligation, a grim responsibility. But movements that last—the ones that truly shift the course of history—are filled with energy, connection, and a sense of purpose that goes beyond struggle. If activism feels like exhaustion and suffering with no renewal, people burn out. We need a movement that not only challenges, but sustains.
Hope is not naïve. It is not an empty platitude or a passive wish. Hope is a political force. It is the refusal to accept that the world must be as it is. Extremists recruit by offering a vision of a lost past, a false golden age. We must counter that with a vision of a world not yet realized but entirely possible. This is why joy and inspiration must be central to our strategy, not an afterthought. A movement that feels alive, that makes people want to dance, sing, build, and dream, is a movement that will endure. A movement that is only about fighting, resisting, and suffering through—without a vision of what comes next—is a movement that will burn out.
The fight against authoritarianism is not just about what we oppose—it is about what we love, what we nurture, what we create. The greatest act of defiance against those who seek to control, oppress, and dominate is to live with joy, to imagine freely, to love deeply, and to build a world worth fighting for.
Engage in Critical Self Reflection
Encouraging individuals to critically examine their beliefs and behaviors is one of the most effective ways to break the hold of extremist propaganda. However, this process is only successful when done in non-confrontational settings where people do not feel judged, attacked, or socially exiled for questioning their views.
Former extremists—those who have left radical movements—often play a crucial role in de-radicalization efforts. By sharing their personal journeys, they provide relatable and credible narratives that help others reconsider their paths. Creating safe spaces for dialogue, facilitated by individuals trained in conflict resolution, allows people to challenge extremist narratives without fear of ostracism. This approach fosters introspection rather than defensiveness, making it more likely that individuals will engage with new perspectives.
However, self-reflection must not be framed as a one-sided demand. The left, too, must engage in its own critical examination of how its messaging, strategies, and cultural framing may unintentionally push people away rather than bring them into a broader coalition.
A major area where the left must evolve is in how it navigates the relationship between secularism and religion. While progressive movements often position themselves as champions of secular values, they frequently fail to recognize the complexity of how people relate to faith—not just as a belief system, but as a deeply rooted cultural and communal identity. The left needs a strong secular moral framework, but one that is capable of engaging with religion in a way that respects and includes, rather than alienates, religious individuals.
Too often, progressive spaces adopt an implicit antagonism toward religious traditions, treating them as relics of the past or as inherently reactionary. This framing not only alienates religious individuals but actively pushes them toward the right, where they find a political home that, despite its contradictions, at least acknowledges their identity as legitimate. This has led to a major strategic failure: instead of presenting an inclusive vision of justice that speaks to both secular and religious moral traditions, the left has, in many cases, allowed the right to monopolize religious discourse entirely.
Rather than dismissing faith as inherently opposed to progressive values, the left should engage with religious communities in a way that highlights common ground—shared concerns about economic justice, social welfare, environmental stewardship, and human dignity. The conflict between atheistic and agnostic secularism and religion must be addressed head-on, not through erasure or dismissal, but through dialogue that recognizes the importance of faith in people’s lives while championing a vision of justice that transcends sectarian divides.
Ultimately, critical self-reflection must be a two-way street—challenging individuals to reconsider harmful ideologies while also demanding that progressive movements examine their own blind spots, cultural assumptions, and strategic missteps. Without this willingness to evolve, the left risks ceding vast political and cultural territory to reactionary forces who are more than willing to embrace those who feel excluded.
For me, I often find myself "blaming" kleptocrats and autocrats for the world's problems, and while there is undeniable truth in their role as exploiters of power and wealth, framing the struggle solely in terms of villains and culprits risks oversimplifying the deeper systemic forces at play. It is easy—and often emotionally satisfying—to attribute injustice to the malice of individuals or elite groups, but the reality is more complex. Power imbalances, economic structures, historical legacies, and cultural inertia all contribute to the conditions that allow authoritarianism, wealth concentration, and social decay to persist.
This does not mean absolving the powerful of responsibility, nor does it mean indulging in false equivalencies that dilute the moral imperative of resistance. However, it does mean recognizing that solutions cannot be built on a foundation of blame alone. The systems of power we seek to dismantle are not maintained merely by the greed of the few, but by the tacit participation of the many—often out of fear, necessity, or simple inertia. If we reduce the world’s problems to a battle between the righteous and the corrupt, we risk overlooking the ways in which people can be co-opted, coerced, or simply conditioned into upholding exploitative systems.
This is where compassion must temper our critique. If we assume that people are either allies or enemies, we miss opportunities for persuasion, coalition-building, and systemic transformation. Instead of merely calling out corruption and authoritarianism, we must also ask: What conditions allowed these forces to rise? What failures led people to embrace them? How do we create alternative systems that are more compelling, sustainable, and just?
Even wild questions like seeking to compassionately understand what drives kleptocrats and autocrats and extremists. Are they… okay? Do they need “help”? Can we “help”? How do we bring them back in to our interconnected vision of the world?
In the end, power is not just something wielded by the elite—it is something that flows through all of us. If we fail to recognize the ways in which our own assumptions, actions, and narratives contribute to the broader political landscape, we risk becoming reactionaries ourselves—locked in a cycle of opposition rather than creation. The real work of resistance is not just about tearing down the unjust, but about building something stronger in its place.
Empower People with Passion, Compassion, and Eloquence
Messages resonate most when delivered by charismatic individuals who already have the trust of their audience. Identifying and empowering credible voices within at-risk communities is essential for effectively countering propaganda. In Germany, for example, former neo-Nazis now work as educators and mentors, using their experiences to warn others about the dangers of extremist ideologies. The messenger matters as much as the message itself. Partnering with influential community leaders, faith groups, and cultural figures ensures that counter-narratives are not just correct but credible, compelling, and human.
Let’s be honest: watching Chuck Schumer, Nancy Pelosi, or Adam Schiff deliver speeches is not inspiring. If anything, it’s the kind of punishment I’d threaten my kids with if they didn’t clean their room. The center-right—forever playing defense against both progressives and extremists—looks increasingly irrelevant. Nothing is more boring than an ideology that stands for nothing. The left’s messaging problem is not about policy—it’s about delivery.
Politicians should be doing the work of governing, not trying to be the cultural face of movements. Instead, the left needs artist-activists, poets, musicians, and thinkers—people who can actually make people feel something. Figures like Saul Williams and Tom Morello should be among the left’s most visible voices, articulating its vision in ways that inspire, challenge, and energize. Politicians can handle legislation. The movement needs messengers who can move people.
Artists like Williams and Morello—figures on the actual left—are going to say things that make the center-right and far-right extremely uncomfortable. And that’s a good thing. Their role is not to sanitize progressive messaging for corporate media approval, but to challenge conventional narratives, shake people out of apathy, and force difficult but necessary conversations. This is about real change.
The DNC needs to listen, learn, and grow alongside these voices rather than trying to control or suppress them. If the far-right loses its mind in response? Good. Let them rage. The more they scream about the "radical left," the more it exposes their fear of genuine cultural and systemic change.
People follow movements, not politicians. They rally behind vision, not policy white papers. If the left is serious about countering extremism and inspiring real change, it needs to stop trying to make bland centrists into movement leaders and instead elevate the voices that ignite passion, challenge injustice, and make people believe a better world is possible.
Counter Online Echo Chambers
Online echo chambers do not just spread propaganda—they radicalize. By reinforcing pre-existing biases and isolating users from opposing viewpoints, they create closed loops of disinformation that fuel extremism. Breaking these cycles requires active intervention, not just hoping people will stumble upon better information. However, countering extremist propaganda must not turn into propaganda itself. There must be an explicit commitment to avoiding disinformation, misinformation, and emotionally manipulative rhetoric—even in the pursuit of a just cause. Doublespeak, hyperbole, and outright fabrication must be rejected because credibility is everything. If people suspect they are being misled, they will retreat further into extremist narratives. Trust is fragile, and once broken, it is almost impossible to repair. Instead of pretending to be neutral, counter-radicalization efforts should confidently acknowledge bias: This is the perspective we are coming from, and here’s why we believe it matters. The goal is not to manipulate but to equip people with the tools to think critically, even when that critical thinking leads to different conclusions.
Most efforts to counter extremism focus on fact-checking, content moderation, or post-exposure de-radicalization, but by the time someone is deep in an extremist pipeline, these methods often fail. Instead, we must disrupt radicalization at its source—within the online spaces where it takes hold. Initiatives like the Redirect Method by Moonshot CVE have taken steps in this direction, identifying individuals searching for extremist content and redirecting them to alternative narratives, educational resources, and de-radicalization programs. But these efforts need to go further. Instead of passively waiting for people to seek out extremist content, we need a transparent, strategic counter-propaganda campaign that actively engages with users in the dark corners of the Internet—on alt-tech platforms, conspiracy-laden forums, and recruitment-heavy subcultures. This means deploying AI and human moderation teams trained in counter-extremism to identify at-risk individuals and engage them before radicalization deepens, using counter-messaging that is both compelling and fact-driven rather than relying solely on rational argument. Extremist movements succeed because they offer identity, belonging, and purpose—counter-messaging must do the same. Extremist recruitment pipelines must also be disrupted by injecting factual information, personal testimonies from "formers," and narratives that undermine extremist myths.
This kind of campaign must be transparent and ethical. Unlike the covert psychological operations of the Cold War, modern counter-propaganda must be openly acknowledged as an effort to combat radicalization, not a manipulative attempt at thought control. People must feel like they are choosing to walk away from extremism, not being forcibly pulled away. A simple rule should guide these efforts: No shadow games, no deception, no false flags. Radicalization thrives on distrust, and any counter-effort must be grounded in integrity if it is to succeed.
Tech platforms also play a crucial role. Algorithms that prioritize sensationalist, outrage-driven content actively worsen extremism by feeding users increasingly radical material. Encouraging platforms to adopt models that prioritize credible sources, promote diverse viewpoints, and introduce friction into radicalization pipelines—such as requiring fact-check pop-ups or exposure to counterarguments—can slow the spread of extremism before it becomes a problem. But tech companies alone cannot be relied upon to fix this issue; there must be systemic pressure for ethical algorithmic reform.
If the left is serious about countering extremism, it cannot rely on fact-checking alone. It must take the fight directly into the digital spaces where radicalization happens, launching an open, transparent counter-propaganda campaign that actively disrupts extremist pipelines before they metastasize. But this must be done without becoming what we seek to dismantle. No doublespeak. No deception. No emotionally manipulative fear campaigns. Just truth, transparency, and the confidence to say: "We are biased. Here’s why. Here’s the evidence. Now think for yourself." If we fail to do this, the radical right will continue to dominate the digital battlefield unchallenged.
Address Isolation and Disconnection
Isolation and disconnection are among the most powerful forces that make individuals susceptible to propaganda and extremism. When people feel abandoned—socially, politically, or economically—they become far more vulnerable to radical narratives that offer them a sense of belonging, purpose, and identity. Countering extremism, therefore, is not just about confronting ideology; it is about repairing the social fabric that allows extremism to take hold in the first place.
Creating spaces where people can engage in open, respectful dialogue is essential for countering radicalization. Extremist movements do not just provide ideology; they provide community—a shared identity that gives individuals a sense of purpose. To counter this, we must ensure that constructive, inclusive communities exist as an alternative. Programs like the Strong Cities Network have made progress by bringing together community leaders to counter extremism through local trust-building initiatives, proving that when people are actively engaged in their communities, they are far less likely to be drawn into radical movements. However, occasional town halls and surface-level discussions are not enough. We need a long-term, structured commitment to rebuilding social trust, bridging ideological divides, and restoring a sense of shared purpose.
Dialogue alone, however, is insufficient. People need more than just conversations—they need active participation in cooperative efforts that reinforce a sense of mutual responsibility. Organizations like Braver Angels have taken steps toward this by facilitating structured conversations between individuals from deeply divided ideological backgrounds, helping to build empathy and trust. This model should be expanded, replicated, and integrated into public schools, higher education, and civic engagement programs. The goal should not just be to encourage conversations but to institutionalize the practice of constructive engagement as a core part of civic life.
Beyond structured dialogue, we must rebuild third spaces—public, non-commercial places where people can interact outside of work and home. Historically, public libraries, community centers, vocational schools, and religious institutions played a vital role in providing these spaces. However, as funding has declined and digital engagement has replaced in-person interaction, many of these institutions have either disappeared or lost relevance. Reinvesting in third spaces is critical to preventing the kind of social fragmentation that makes extremism appealing in the first place.
Rather than building new institutions from scratch, the most effective strategy is to revitalize existing ones. Public libraries, for example, could be transformed into community hubs—not just for books, but for civic engagement, skill-sharing, and dialogue-based programming. Vocational schools and workforce training centers could be expanded into spaces where people from all backgrounds can learn, connect, and collaborate on tangible projects. Municipalities should also fund and support community centers, public gardens, makerspaces, and town hall-style forums to create environments where people work together across ideological and economic divides.
People do not turn to extremism when they feel connected, valued, and engaged in their communities. They turn to extremism when they feel alienated, unheard, and alone. If we are serious about preventing radicalization and strengthening democracy, we must invest in structured dialogue programs, third spaces, and community-driven initiatives that foster social trust and collective responsibility. This is not just about countering extremism—it is about rebuilding the very foundations of a healthy, democratic society.
Rehumanizing One Another
Extremist propaganda thrives on dehumanization—the deliberate stripping away of complexity, dignity, and shared humanity from marginalized groups to justify exclusion, oppression, or violence. By reducing individuals to stereotypes or scapegoats, extremists create an "us vs. them" narrative that fosters division, fear, and justification for harm. The antidote to dehumanization is empathy—and the most powerful way to cultivate empathy is through storytelling and direct engagement.
One of the most effective strategies for countering extremist narratives is amplifying personal stories of those affected by hate and those who have walked away from extremism. Programs like Life After Hate support former extremists in leaving hate groups and reintegrating into society, often by helping them share their experiences. These individuals, known as "formers," play a crucial role in de-radicalization efforts by demonstrating that change is possible, and hate is a choice—not a destiny. Their testimonies help others see how radicalization happens, what it costs, and what it takes to break free.
However, it is not enough to only hear from those who left extremist movements—we must also elevate the voices of those who have been targeted by hate. The media, social platforms, and educational institutions should prioritize storytelling that humanizes those whom extremists seek to demonize—refugees, immigrants, religious minorities, LGBTQ+ individuals, and historically marginalized communities. Encouraging platforms to amplify these narratives shifts the focus from abstract policy debates to lived experiences, highlighting shared struggles, aspirations, and resilience. This can be done through documentaries, podcasts, interactive workshops, and public art projects that bring communities together.
In addition to personal narratives, direct engagement between divided communities is essential. Many people hold biases not because they are inherently hateful, but because they lack exposure to those who are different from them. Studies show that meaningful, sustained interactions between groups reduce prejudice—not through forced debates, but through collaborative experiences that emphasize shared values. Programs that bring together diverse groups to work on common goals—whether community service projects, art collaborations, or neighborhood initiatives—help reframe relationships away from hostility and toward mutual respect.
To be clear, rehumanization does not mean excusing harm or naively assuming that all hate can be undone through kindness alone. Some individuals are deeply entrenched in extremist ideology and unwilling to change. However, many people—especially those on the periphery of radicalization—can be reached through intentional acts of recognition, connection, and exposure to alternative narratives. The more society fosters spaces for engagement and storytelling, the harder it becomes for propaganda to reduce people to enemies.
Ultimately, the fight against extremism is not just about dismantling hate—it is about rebuilding a culture of shared humanity. When people see each other as individuals with hopes, fears, and struggles—not as faceless threats—division weakens, and solidarity grows. The more we invest in rehumanization, the less fertile ground remains for the seeds of extremism to take root.
Access to Information and Critical Thinking Skills
Propaganda thrives in environments where individuals lack both the tools to critically evaluate information and access to trustworthy sources. In a digital age where misinformation spreads faster than ever, the ability to distinguish fact from manipulation is essential—but what good is media literacy if people can’t even access quality journalism in the first place?
One of the most glaring structural issues in modern media is the asymmetry of access between right-wing and left-wing news ecosystems. The vast majority of serious, well-researched, and respected left-leaning journalism sits behind a paywall. It is understandable that outlets like The New York Times, The Washington Post, The Atlantic, The New Yorker, and others need revenue to survive, but this model has created a massive problem in our society. Right-wing media, in contrast, is funded by billionaires and corporate interests eager to provide free, unlimited access to their propaganda. If Fox News, The Daily Wire, Breitbart, and Newsmax could implant their content directly into people’s brains for a small investment on their end, they absolutely would.
For those from middle- and upper-class backgrounds, a couple of dollars per month for a subscription may seem negligible. But for many working-class Americans, even a handful of small monthly charges add up quickly, and news subscriptions simply aren’t an affordable priority. Meanwhile, those on the right—who are constantly told by their media ecosystem that “left-wing news is fake” and “mainstream media is corrupt”—are never going to pay for access to The New York Times or The Washington Post just to see if they’re being lied to. The result is a lopsided media landscape where the majority of Americans are drowning in an endless flood of free right-wing propaganda, while access to rigorous, nuanced left-wing analysis is locked behind a paywall.
This leaves only a handful of free, nonpartisan sources—like AP, NPR, and USA Today—available to the public, but these outlets, while reliable, lack the energy, narrative cohesion, and emotional engagement that right-wing media thrives on. If the only widely accessible, high-energy media options are far-right misinformation machines, then the left is fighting an uphill battle with one arm tied behind its back. Without systemic changes in how information is distributed, even the best critical thinking education will fail if people only have free access to content designed to manipulate them.
To bridge this gap, progressive and left-leaning media outlets must rethink their approach to paywalls. While revenue is important, there must be alternative access models that allow lower-income individuals to consume high-quality journalism without financial barriers. Some potential solutions include:
Sponsorship models where people with means can subsidize subscriptions for those who can’t afford them.
Library and university partnerships that offer free digital access to major news outlets for students, educators, and the public.
Tiered pricing or donation-based access so that journalism can remain sustainable while ensuring critical reporting is not locked away from the people who need it most.
Placing news in front of the paywall, but keeping lifestyle content behind it.
At the same time, the left must invest in alternative free media platforms that can compete with the entertainment-driven energy of right-wing media. Podcasts, video essays, and independent media collectives have made progress in this space, but without significant financial backing, they remain fragmented and underpowered compared to the billion-dollar right-wing disinformation machine.
Finland’s national media literacy initiative has been widely credited with reducing the impact of disinformation campaigns, teaching citizens how to detect fake news, recognize biased reporting, and critically analyze intent, and that is important. Those kind of programs are important and should be taught within the third-spaces discussed above. However, media literacy alone cannot combat disinformation if people only have access to low-quality, misleading content.
If we are serious about fighting propaganda and restoring trust in journalism, we must ensure that quality information is available to everyone—not just those who can afford it. Without a fundamental restructuring of media access, the left will continue fighting a battle of ideas in which only one side actually has a megaphone.
The Strategic Use of Art in Resistance
Art has long been a weapon of resistance—a tool for messaging, motivation, and mobilization. Throughout history, powerful and mysterious works of public art have been extraordinarily effective in shaping narratives, inspiring movements, and rallying communities. Art speaks in ways that speeches and manifestos cannot. It bypasses intellectual defenses and taps into emotion, imagination, and subconscious understanding. A single, haunting mural can say more about the state of the world than a thousand leaflets ever could.
But not all acts of defiant creativity are equally effective. There is an enormous difference between strategic artistic messaging and aimless vandalism. The work of artists like Banksy, Blu, Shepard Fairey, and countless underground collectives is precise, deliberate, and impactful. It draws people in, invites curiosity, and forces them to question their assumptions. In contrast, spray-painting "ACAB" on a bank branch window or tagging an anarchist symbol on a bus stop achieves nothing except creating cleanup work for low-wage employees. Worse, it alienates potential allies who might otherwise be inclined to support the movement.
A serious resistance movement must direct its artistic energy into public works that uplift communities rather than simply cause destruction. The goal is not just to disrupt—it is to engage, provoke thought, and inspire participation. Strategic art builds power; careless vandalism erodes it.
The Role of Art in Resistance
Throughout history, art has been used to defy oppression, to communicate across barriers, and to keep hope alive even in the darkest times.
In Nazi-occupied France, members of the resistance left cryptic graffiti warning of sabotage and spreading coded messages.
During the Chilean dictatorship, street murals became an essential way for dissidents to push back against state repression.
In Soviet-controlled Eastern Europe, subversive theater, underground literature, and music were used to maintain morale and resist totalitarianism.
During the Arab Spring, the walls of cities became canvases of revolution, bearing messages of defiance and unity that spread faster than state propaganda could suppress them.
Art has always been the lifeblood of revolution. It provides symbols, narratives, and unifying visions that transcend language and politics.
The best resistance movements strategically harness art, rather than letting artistic energy be wasted on reactionary acts of vandalism.
Building Instead of Breaking
Many young activists assume that destruction equals power, that defacing corporate storefronts or government buildings is inherently a revolutionary act. But breaking a window at a chain store does nothing to challenge a system. It only ensures that a local low-wage worker has to clean it up. It does not spread the message, does not inspire, and does not build solidarity. Worse, it alienates small business owners and working-class people who might otherwise be natural allies.
Instead of turning small businesses, local workers, and community spaces into collateral damage, resistance movements should engage them, include them, and give them ownership over the message. A movement should ask if it can paint a mural on the side of a building—not spray-paint it at 3AM. It should collaborate with artists, musicians, and performers to create public works that spread solidarity, rather than merely marking territory with slogans.
Some of the most effective artistic resistance tactics include:
Muralism and Large-Scale Public Art – Visually striking, politically powerful, and community-driven murals can turn an entire neighborhood into a message of defiance and hope.
Projection Bombing – Projecting messages, images, or films onto the side of buildings in the dead of night creates massive, impossible-to-ignore statements that disappear without a trace once the power is cut.
Subversive Advertising (Culture Jamming) – Altering billboards, corporate ads, or propaganda posters to expose hypocrisy, flip narratives, or mock authoritarian messaging.
Sticker and Wheatpaste Campaigns – Easily deployed, low-risk, and highly visible, posters and stickers can flood an area with a message without causing property damage.
Performance Art and Flash Protests – Silent demonstrations, unexpected public performances, and symbolic acts can often cut through political noise and grab public attention in ways traditional protest cannot.
The goal should be to create art that moves people, rather than simply making a mess.
The Art of Elusiveness: Moving Unseen
All of that said, resistance artists must also understand how to move quickly, silently, and invisibly. The most effective pieces of public resistance art often appear overnight, in impossible places, with no witnesses or suspects. They feel like a message delivered from nowhere, a sign that resistance is everywhere.
To achieve this, activists should develop skills in:
Navigating urban environments without being detected – Avoiding surveillance cameras, knowing blind spots, and recognizing security patterns.
Executing rapid, low-risk artistic interventions – Applying stencils, wheatpaste posters, or projection bombing techniques in under a minute.
Moving as individuals or small teams – The larger a group, the more attention it attracts. Many of the most effective works of resistance art are executed by one or two people moving with purpose.
Blending into crowds and slipping away – The ability to walk away from an action without drawing attention is just as important as executing it.
Basic escape and evasion tactics – If authoritarian forces attempt to detain artists mid-action, understanding how to disengage and disappear is critical.
These same skills—avoiding detection, navigating hostile environments, executing precise and efficient actions—are not just useful for artistic resistance. They are the same skills needed to safely extract vulnerable individuals from danger, evade surveillance, and counter authoritarian control.
Strategic Artistic Resistance Builds a Movement
A resistance movement should not simply reject vandalism—it should embrace the power of deliberate, strategic, transformative art.
A movement’s creative energy should be focused, disciplined, and inspiring. It should uplift communities, not alienate them. It should be so powerful that those who see it feel compelled to join, rather than repelled by disorder.
And it should be executed so skillfully and mysteriously that it seems to emerge from the very fabric of the world itself—a reminder that resistance is everywhere, even in the places the system thought it controlled.
A well-placed mural can last for decades. A projection on a skyscraper can be seen for miles. A perfectly timed, perfectly executed artistic statement can be more effective than a hundred speeches and a thousand broken windows.
Resistance is not just about tearing down the world that is. It is about building the world that should be. And art—real art, intentional art, transformative art—is one of the most powerful tools we have to do just that.
The Power of Positive Protest: Collective Demonstration vs. the Chaos of Riots
Resistance is strongest when it is unified, disciplined, and uplifting. Throughout history, mass demonstrations of peaceful collective power have achieved far more than chaotic uprisings. The sight of millions gathering in solidarity against oppression is one of the most potent forces for political and social change. The greatest resistance movements—from Gandhi’s Salt March to the March on Washington, from Poland’s Solidarity Movement to the pro-democracy uprisings in Eastern Europe—did not win by engaging in destruction. They won by mobilizing the moral force of the people, demonstrating unity in a way that was impossible to ignore or dismiss.
But there is a danger—a tipping point where peaceful protests can unravel into riot, looting, vandalism, and street clashes with state and non-state authoritarian forces. These moments, while often emotionally understandable, do not serve the long-term goals of a resistance movement. They alienate moderates, centrists, and potential allies, handing the opposition an easy excuse to escalate repression, justify crackdowns, and delegitimize the cause.
A serious resistance movement must recognize this danger and take active steps to self-regulate, maintain discipline, and prevent escalation. Protest must be entirely peaceful—until the moment comes when peaceful means are no longer possible. Until then, it must be family-friendly, positive, uplifting, and inspiring. It must be so unambiguously peaceful that the police feel no need for riot gear, that the National Guard is not on standby, and that violent extremists—whether from the state or non-state actors—find themselves awkward and unwelcome in its presence.
The Power of Positive Protest
The greatest resistance movements in history succeeded not because they had the largest weapons or the most violent uprisings, but because they captured the moral high ground and mass public support. Protest, when done correctly, demonstrates collective power and unity, forcing governments to recognize that they cannot simply crush dissent without massive political consequences.
Positive protest has a few key characteristics:
It is unifying rather than polarizing – It brings people together across ideological, racial, and economic divides.
It is structured and disciplined – Protest leaders maintain control over actions and messaging, preventing escalation into violence.
It is visually and emotionally powerful – Symbolic actions like peaceful mass marches, coordinated acts of solidarity, and large-scale displays of unity shape public perception.
It is impossible to justify cracking down on – When police in riot gear face down an entirely peaceful, joyful, family-friendly crowd, the government loses legitimacy in the eyes of the people.
It starves violent actors of opportunities – When protests are well-organized and intentionally peaceful, non-state authoritarians, extremists, and opportunistic looters have no foothold to escalate chaos.
The most successful historical movements used these principles to transform public opinion and force change.
The U.S. Civil Rights Movement meticulously controlled its protests, ensuring that marchers remained disciplined, avoiding violence even in the face of brutal state repression.
The Indian Independence Movement under Gandhi used nonviolent resistance that made British colonial violence against unarmed demonstrators untenable in the eyes of the world.
The Polish Solidarity Movement combined mass peaceful demonstrations with labor strikes, grinding the economy to a halt without giving the authoritarian government an excuse to use force.
Each of these movements understood something critical: violence and chaos do not win public support. They create fear and division.
The Danger of Protest Unraveling into Riot
Every authoritarian regime wants a resistance movement to lose control—because when protests turn violent, it justifies state crackdowns and alienates neutral observers. Protest organizers must recognize the three most common threats to peaceful demonstrations:
State Escalation and Provocation – Governments will intentionally escalate situations to justify a violent response. They will deploy heavily armed riot police, instigate conflicts, and even plant undercover provocateurs to incite violence.
Non-State Extremists Looking for a Fight – Right-wing extremists, militia groups, and other non-state authoritarians thrive on chaos. If a peaceful protest turns violent, they see an opportunity to wage street battles, intimidate the opposition, and hijack the narrative.
Opportunists and Criminal Elements – Not everyone at a protest is there for the same reasons. Opportunistic looters, vandals, and violent actors will seize moments of disorder to create chaos. This gives the media and the state an easy way to discredit the entire movement.
Once riots start, the movement loses control of the narrative. Protesters must recognize that one night of looting can undo months of careful organizing and coalition-building.
How Resistance Movements Can Maintain Discipline
To prevent escalation and maintain control, resistance movements must:
Train Protest Marshals and De-Escalation Teams – Trained volunteers should walk among the crowds, monitoring for agitators, encouraging peaceful behavior, and intervening before conflicts arise.
Clearly Define Protest Goals and Messaging – A disciplined protest should have a singular message and defined outcomes. Avoid vague grievances that can be co-opted by fringe actors.
Create a Culture of Internal Accountability – The movement itself must reject vandalism, looting, and escalation. Organizers should communicate clear expectations to participants: This movement is disciplined. This movement does not tolerate random destruction.
Identify and Exclude Violent Actors – When extremists or violent agitators try to infiltrate, they should be swiftly identified and removed. The movement should not hesitate to disavow individuals who seek to hijack the cause for their own violent agenda.
Control the Optics – Every protest should be visually and emotionally powerful. Family presence, music, art, and symbolic gestures reinforce the peaceful and positive nature of the movement.
If these principles are followed, the movement creates an environment where non-state authoritarians, violent extremists, and opportunists feel awkward and unwelcome.
If police arrive in riot gear to face peaceful demonstrators holding candles and banners, it becomes clear who the aggressors are.
If non-state extremists try to start violence and find no willing participants, their influence is neutralized.
If the movement is unapologetically peaceful, even in the face of provocation, it is far harder for authoritarians to justify repressive crackdowns.
Resistance Actions Must Be Peaceful—Until the Moment Comes
Until the moment comes where nonviolent means are no longer possible, resistance must remain peaceful, positive, and disciplined. History has repeatedly shown that governments fear peaceful, mass protest far more than chaotic uprisings—because mass movements cannot be easily dismissed as "criminal elements" or "terrorists".
Armed gangs, neo-Nazi militias, and extremist factions thrive on chaos and violence. If a resistance movement descends into that same violence, it loses its ability to mobilize the broader population. The goal must be to demonstrate power, not destruction.
If people are fed, families are present, and the atmosphere is one of unity and resolve, the movement feels like the future—a place where people want to be.
If the streets are full of fire, destruction, and street battles, the movement feels like anarchy—a place from which people flee.
This is not about appeasing moderates or centrists—it is about winning them over. It is about ensuring that every person watching—whether from the sidelines or from their living room—sees hope, not fear.
A resistance movement is at its most powerful when it is impossible to dismiss, impossible to ignore, and impossible to suppress without revealing the authoritarianism of the opposition. That power comes not from street battles, but from overwhelming numbers, undeniable legitimacy, and a movement so disciplined that no one can question its resolve.
Victory belongs to those who control the narrative. Peaceful resistance—until the moment comes—ensures that the people, not the authoritarians, define the future.
The Most Difficult Truth
Before we speak of the absolute last resort—before we discuss the terrifying moment where resistance movements must confront the potential necessity of force—we must acknowledge a truth that is difficult to reconcile, yet essential to understand. Many people who lead and participate in neofascist movements genuinely believe that they themselves are engaged in an act of necessary resistance to what they perceive as oppression. They do not see themselves as authoritarians or oppressors. Instead, they see themselves as defenders of a collapsing world, fighting against forces they believe are working to erase their way of life.
This is not an easy thing to accept. It is far simpler to imagine fascism as an external force of pure malice—something imposed upon the world by obvious villains, something that can be resisted and defeated without any further moral complexity. But reality is far messier. Many individuals who are swept up into fascist movements are not monsters, nor are they entirely irredeemable. They are afraid. They feel disempowered, unheard, displaced. They believe the world is changing in ways that harm them, and rather than seeking solidarity with other oppressed people, they have been misled into channeling their anger against scapegoats rather than systems of power.
If we are to overcome the forces of authoritarianism, we must recognize that many of the people within these movements are not our enemies. The true enemy is the systems of kleptocracy, exploitation, and fear that have manufactured these divisions.
The Manufactured Narrative of Persecution
The most effective propaganda of fascist and authoritarian movements is not that their followers will become rulers of the world, but that they are on the verge of total destruction and must fight to survive. Modern neofascists do not openly proclaim themselves as oppressors—they cast themselves as victims, as underdogs, as the last defenders of civilization against chaos.
This is not new. Every fascist movement in history has framed itself as an act of necessary resistance against an existential threat.
The Nazis claimed that Jewish influence, communists, and cultural degeneracy were conspiring to erase German identity.
Mussolini’s Blackshirts positioned themselves as the last hope of Italian nationalism, resisting socialist and democratic movements that they believed would destroy the country.
The Ku Klux Klan was founded on the belief that white Southerners were victims of Northern occupation and Black political power, framing white supremacy as an act of "self-defense."
Today’s neofascists claim that globalism, immigration, feminism, LGBTQ+ rights, and racial justice movements are conspiring to erase their culture, their families, and their very way of life.
In each case, the appeal of fascism is not simply about power—it is about fear. The lie at the heart of every fascist movement is that it is fighting against oppression rather than imposing it.
Who Are the True Enemies?
We must be clear about this distinction: The most dangerous forces in any fascist movement are not the everyday people who are drawn to it, but the demagogues, financiers, and power brokers who exploit their fears for personal gain. The vast majority of individuals swept into fascist movements are working-class people, economically struggling people, disenfranchised people—people who, in another world, could have been our allies.
But then there are those at the top—the political leaders, corporate backers, think tanks, and propaganda networks who manufacture resentment and sell it as truth. These figures do not believe their own lies. They use fear as a tool to manipulate the masses while they consolidate power and wealth. They will never be reached, because they were never sincere.
However, the people they radicalize are another story. They can be reached—but only if we refuse to see them as irredeemable.
The Path to De-Radicalization
One of the hardest but most necessary tasks of any successful resistance movement is finding ways to break the cycle of radicalization and reintegrate people who have been misled by neofascist ideology. This does not mean excusing or ignoring the harm they have done. It does not mean tolerating hate speech, violence, or abuse. It does mean recognizing that the longer we treat them as unredeemable enemies, the more they will dig in, the more they will see themselves as righteous warriors against an uncaring world, and the harder it will be to bring them back.
The most effective methods of de-radicalization involve:
Offering an alternative community – One of the most powerful draws of extremist movements is that they offer a sense of belonging. If people can be welcomed into healthy, positive, and purpose-driven communities, they are less likely to return to hate.
Addressing economic and social grievances – Many people turn to fascist movements because they feel powerless, economically insecure, or socially isolated. Neofascism gives them a false sense of control and purpose. Resistance movements that offer real solutions to these grievances—through worker organizing, mutual aid, and community support—can break the appeal of extremism.
Challenging propaganda through personal relationships – Studies on de-radicalization consistently show that people are not argued out of extremist beliefs through debates or facts. They are de-radicalized through human relationships. When someone they know and trust challenges their worldview, they are more likely to listen.
Understanding that anger is not the problem—its direction is – The anger of those who join fascist movements is often real and justified—but it has been deliberately misdirected. Instead of seeing corporate kleptocrats, corrupt politicians, and billionaires as their oppressors, they have been tricked into blaming women, immigrants, LGBTQ+ people, and racial minorities. If this anger can be reoriented toward legitimate systemic grievances, it can be transformed into a force for liberation rather than oppression.
The Cost of Failure
If we do not find ways to de-radicalize, reach out, and reclaim those who have been misled, we will face two possible futures.
One is that they win. The world succumbs to full authoritarian rule, and millions suffer under the brutal machinery of fascism.
The other is that they lose—but instead of being reintegrated into society, they remain exiled, embittered, and forever alienated. A world where millions of people feel permanently outcast and silenced is a world that will never know true peace. The cycle will simply repeat.
This is not a naive plea for blind forgiveness. Some will never change. Some will never seek redemption. Some will remain committed to hate until their last breath. But many are not beyond saving, and for the sake of a better world, we must try to reach them whenever and however we can.
The most difficult truth is this: if we truly want to end fascism, we must not only defeat it—we must also find a way to heal the wounds it has created, and reclaim the people it has consumed.
The Double-Edged Sword of Armed Resistance
All resistance movements against authoritarianism must be grounded in a strong, self-reinforced ethos of nonviolence. History has repeatedly demonstrated that peaceful, disciplined resistance is often the most effective tool for challenging authoritarian rule. Mass protests, strikes, civil disobedience, and international pressure have successfully overturned dictators, expelled occupiers, and dismantled racist and oppressive systems. However, there are moments in history when nonviolent resistance alone is insufficient—when a nation-state fails to protect its people against armed, organized authoritarian extremists. At these moments, people must confront an agonizing moral and strategic question: Is armed resistance justified?
The answer, if it is to be given at all, must be highly conditional and approached with extreme caution. If a people embrace the right to self-defense, it must first be invoked at the highest level of governance available—first at the national level, then the state or provincial level, then at the county or municipal level, exhausting all concentric rings of government before considering resistance outside of lawful structures. This is not merely a matter of legal formality but of legitimacy. If an armed resistance movement emerges before all legal and institutional pathways are exhausted, it risks alienating potential allies, ceding moral high ground, and justifying even greater repression by the ruling regime.
That is not to say that resistance movements should be unarmed or unfamiliar with the tools of self-defense. The moment to acquire the knowledge and resources necessary for self-defense is not at the last minute. It is prudent and responsible for communities to understand self-defense tactics, emergency response, and local security measures, particularly in times of escalating authoritarianism. However, being armed is distinct from using arms in resistance actions. To take up arms too soon is to invite swift and overwhelming repression. To take up arms at the wrong time, for the wrong reasons, or without a clear, legitimate strategy is to risk transforming a resistance movement into the very thing it originally sought to oppose.
When the State Becomes the Enemy
There comes a dangerous transition point when an oligarchy crosses fully into kleptocracy and full-blown authoritarianism. As authoritarian regimes purge dissenting voices from law enforcement, the judiciary, and the military, loyalists are installed, and state institutions are weaponized against the people. At this stage, the institutions designed to protect the people—law enforcement, national defense forces, intelligence agencies—become instruments of terror and control. Elections become meaningless. Courts rubber-stamp the regime’s abuses. Opposition voices are silenced through imprisonment, exile, or assassination.
It is at this precipice that a people must face the most dangerous and difficult decision in any resistance movement: whether to mount an armed insurrection.
This is one of the greatest existential crises any society can face. To rise up in arms is to commit to a struggle that will bring death, destruction, and immense suffering. It will test the moral integrity of those who resist, challenge every ethical and philosophical assumption they once held, and risk radicalizing individuals into the same kinds of violence and authoritarianism they once opposed.
The choice to engage in armed resistance must not be taken lightly. If launched too early, before a government is fully illegitimate in the eyes of the people, an armed uprising can fracture a movement, alienate civilians, and hand the regime a justification for even greater repression. If taken too late, after the state’s total control has been consolidated, the resistance may be crushed before it can even begin.
This turning point is where many resistance movements throughout history have made their most fatal miscalculations. Some waited too long. Others acted too soon. Some embraced violence in ways that ultimately corrupted their cause and transformed them into the very type of oppressors they had fought against.
The Dangers of Armed Resistance
Armed resistance is inherently high-risk and high-cost. Even when justified, it frequently results in:
Mass civilian casualties – Revolutions and civil wars rarely remain confined to combatants. Civilian populations bear the brunt of the violence, through displacement, famine, economic collapse, and reprisals.
Radicalization and ideological purity spirals – The necessity of military organization creates hierarchies of power, which can lead to internal purges and extremist factions that push resistance movements toward more authoritarian structures.
International isolation or mischaracterization – The global community is often slow to recognize legitimate armed resistance movements, instead labeling them "insurgents" or "terrorists," which can cut them off from much-needed diplomatic and material support.
Justification for totalitarianism – Even failed armed revolutions can be used as justification for a regime to crack down even harder. Historically, authoritarian states have used actual or fabricated resistance movements to eliminate dissent, militarize society, and suspend civil liberties indefinitely.
Criminal and extremist infiltration – In prolonged armed conflicts, power vacuums attract organized crime syndicates, extremist groups, and foreign interests that may hijack the original resistance movement for their own purposes.
When Armed Resistance is Justified
For armed resistance to be ethically and strategically justified, it must meet the following criteria:
Exhaustion of all nonviolent options – Every legal, diplomatic, and institutional pathway must have been closed, leaving armed resistance the only viable option for survival.
Widespread civilian support – The population must see the resistance as legitimate. An armed uprising without mass civilian backing is doomed to fail.
Strategic planning and discipline – Armed resistance must not be reactionary. It must be deliberate, organized, and methodical, ensuring strict codes of conduct that prevent resistance fighters from engaging in the same abuses as their oppressors.
Clear objectives and an endgame – Armed resistance should not be launched without a vision for what follows victory. Movements that lack a political and economic transition plan often result in failed revolutions that lead only to new forms of tyranny.
What Resistance Movements Should Do Now
Even when armed resistance is not yet on the table, resistance movements must not wait until the last moment to prepare for the possibility. This does not mean engaging in violent action but rather:
Building community defense infrastructure – Training in de-escalation, emergency response, and disaster preparedness strengthens communities against authoritarian threats.
Understanding civil-military relations – Learning about how military and law enforcement forces operate allows resistance movements to anticipate and counteract state violence.
Maintaining information security – Authoritarian regimes use mass surveillance to preemptively suppress resistance. Developing secure communication networks is critical.
Strengthening underground networks – History has shown that secret resistance cells, safe houses, and escape routes are invaluable in times of extreme repression.
These preparations do not necessitate violence. They are the practical steps of a movement that intends to survive and remain effective, no matter how dire the circumstances become.
The Line Between Resistance and Tyranny
The transition from peaceful resistance to armed resistance is the most dangerous moment in any revolution. The line between freedom fighters and oppressors is thin and easily blurred. Many authoritarian regimes began as liberation movements—only to become as repressive as the forces they overthrew.
If a movement takes up arms, it must hold itself to higher ethical standards than the regime it opposes. The goal must never be revenge or conquest but liberation and justice. If armed resistance compromises its own values in pursuit of victory, it risks creating a future just as dark as the past it sought to escape.
Armed resistance is not a shortcut to freedom—it is a last, desperate act of survival. It should never be entered into lightly, nor treated as an inevitability. It is, above all, a dangerous and double-edged sword—one that can just as easily cut down tyranny as it can carve a new one in its place.
Conclusion
The collapse of democratic institutions has never been an accident. It is the result of economic neglect, political complacency, and a failure to counter extremist narratives before they become mainstream. The Weimar Republic’s inability to confront the Nazi Party, the DNC’s failure to adequately challenge the modern far-right, and the unchecked spread of radicalization in the digital age all point to the same lesson: weak opposition enables authoritarianism.
The history of fascism does not repeat itself word for word, but its rhythm remains the same. Unchecked nationalism, grievance politics, and authoritarian strongmen are not anomalies but inevitable outcomes when democratic societies fail to address economic discontent, social isolation, and access to reliable information. The modern rise of autocracy is not a mystery—it follows predictable patterns that we can and must disrupt.
This requires far more than fact-checking misinformation or making appeals to civility. It requires a total restructuring of how we engage with information, politics, and community. We must confront economic injustice head-on, ensuring that people are not left to the mercy of radicalizing forces that offer them simplistic scapegoats instead of real solutions. We must invest in third spaces—libraries, vocational schools, and public commons—where people can engage outside of the toxic digital echo chambers that fuel extremism. We must challenge the left’s failures in communication and recognize that policy alone does not inspire movements—compelling narratives do.
To defeat authoritarianism, we must offer a stronger, more compelling vision than the one it provides. This means rejecting the false binary between collectivism and individualism, recognizing that competition and cooperation can exist in harmony, and fostering a new political identity that moves beyond the contradictions of American exceptionalism and empire. It also means challenging the left to reflect on its own missteps—on how it has allowed religion to be weaponized by the right, on how it has failed to make critical journalism widely accessible, and on how it has allowed the far-right to control the energy of political discourse.
This is not about passively hoping democracy survives. It is about actively ensuring that fascism does not win.
The future is not inevitable. It is shaped by what we do now. What we tolerate. What we resist. What we demand. Every moment of complacency is a moment authoritarianism gains ground. The only way forward is bold, collective action—a willingness to build, not just critique; to unite, not just oppose; and to create a world where justice, truth, and democracy are not just ideals but lived realities.
The time for hesitation is over. Now we fight.
But—we cannot give in to hate. Not even hate for the fascists. We must find it within ourselves to love more than they hate. To stand strong in resistance and defiance, to defend ourselves against them, but never to become them.
That is how we win. We do not let them shape us into something lesser. We refuse to let our humanity be consumed by their inhumanity. We fight—but we do not hate.
We pity them.
Beneath the Throne
This section was originally written as a standalone piece, but I feel compelled to include it here. To effectively counter authoritarianism, we must understand the world through the eyes of those who wield unchecked power. It is not enough to simply condemn dictators—we must grasp the logic that drives them, the mechanisms they use to consolidate control, the way they perceive both allies and enemies, and the personal weaknesses they seek to hide. Only by illuminating the worldview of a modern autocrat can we begin to dismantle the systems that sustain them and disrupt their power from within.
The light. Gilded and blinding, reflecting off polished gold and pristine marble. It’s overwhelming and perfect, the kind of light that leaves no shadow, no place to hide. It catches everything—success, power, destiny—but also every imperfection. The city below moves restlessly: horns blare, crowds surge, lights flicker without rhythm. It’s chaos out there, but not in here. Not here. This is order. This is control. The view from up here is everything. Skyscrapers clawing at the heavens, streets carved with purpose. It all proves something, doesn’t it? Every ant-like figure below affirms what’s obvious. This is the way it’s supposed to be. Above. Separate. In command.
They say chosen. They whisper it, sometimes shout it. Cyrus, they call me. Jesus, they call me. A king, a prophet. The one to restore everything. It fits, doesn’t it? Of course it does. That kind of thing always fits. It’s what they need, anyway. But the noise—the critics, the doubters, the ones who don’t get it—it grates. They don’t understand. They can’t. What could they possibly know about this weight, this purpose? Their dissent doesn’t matter; it’s treachery. No, worse than that. It’s small, weak, something to brush aside. Treachery can’t touch destiny. In the future, they will use my name rather than Cyrus to describe the idea. There will only be one book, the book about me. Cyrus was a loser. Jesus was a loser. I am better than them.
Prosperity is proof. That thought doesn’t need unpacking. It just is. Look at it all—the gold elevators, the sprawling golf courses, the marble floors beneath my feet. This is what winning looks like. Winners win. Losers lose. It’s not complicated. It’s never been complicated. To question this is to question gravity. Why would anyone do that? No one questions gravity.
They say I’m a vessel, chosen to restore greatness. It doesn’t surprise me. Why would it? Look at the crowds. Look at the way they chant, the signs they wave. They’re not following. They’re orbiting. That’s the difference. They’re drawn in because they already know what I know. I’m not just a man. I’m the answer.
But even answers face resistance. It’s everywhere—in the papers, on the streets, in their silly little protests. Their signs don’t matter. What they write doesn’t matter. Weakness never does. They don’t want strength, order, or victory. They want compromise and chaos. They want decline. But not me. No. I offer the way forward. The only way forward. That’s why they hate it. That’s why they hate me.
Failure isn’t an option. To falter isn’t just to fail; it’s to betray the very thing this is built on. Victories aren’t mine alone. They belong to the people, to the faithful who chant my name. Every ruling in my favor, every rally packed to the rafters—it’s all part of the plan, part of the ledger. Even the attacks, the investigations—they’re just tests. Proof that I’m as strong as they know I am. This is how it’s always been. This is how it will always be. That’s the truth of it.
And then, the glass. The reflection. It’s there—sharp, clear, familiar. The tie is perfect, the stance assured. Everything is as it should be. Yet something hovers at the edges. A flicker, a whisper, something that doesn’t belong. It’s too bright. Too revealing. It catches every smudge, every imperfection. The suit fits perfectly—of course it does—but the mirror disagrees. The reflection stands there, rigid, watching. The posture is wrong. Shoulders too slouched. The hair, carefully arranged, looks off somehow—flat, lifeless, as if mocking the effort. The skin. The lines. Too many lines. Every flaw seems magnified under the unforgiving light. Turn down the light. It is too bright. A voice whispers from somewhere deep inside: You’re not enough. Not good enough. Never enough. You’re worthless. I’m worthless. The mirror lies. It won't look me in the eyes. It turns its back on me. It doesn't respect me.
The name on the buildings, the products, the projects—it’s more than a mark. It’s insurance. Against what? Against nothingness. Against being forgotten. The first death, the physical one—that’s inevitable. Everyone knows that. But the second death? The one where the name fades, where the memory disappears? That’s the one. That’s the one that can’t happen. The thought returns, though: without the applause, without the name in lights, without the orbiting crowds—what’s left?
Sleep never comes easily. The dream always returns. In it, the name disappears. The lights go out. The buildings crumble, and the streets forget. He forgets. The applause fades, replaced by silence so deep it feels alive, swallowing him whole. He wakes in a cold sweat, the sheets twisted around him, staring at the ceiling, heart pounding. The name. The name must endure. Without it, there’s nothing.
The reflection looms again, catching him off guard. The man staring back adjusts his tie, but it’s wrong—slightly crooked, like a betrayal. The polished image fractures under scrutiny. Do they see it? Do they know? The thought creeps in, uninvited. The people around him—those closest—what do they want? They smile too much. Agree too often. Laugh too loudly at jokes they’ve heard before. It’s rehearsed. Calculated. Even the kids. Especially the kids. They want something. They all do. Power. My power. They’ll take it if I let them.
The thoughts come faster now, unrelenting. The inner voice sharpens. They’re all leeches. Every single one. They pretend, but they’re waiting for a moment of weakness. The ants on the street aren’t the only enemies. Enemies are everywhere. Smiling enemies. Adoring enemies. The idea tightens its grip, twisting. The reflection stares back, colder now, accusing. Fix it. Fix yourself. They’ll eat you alive if you don’t.
The phone is in hand again before the thought finishes. Another tweet, another volley aimed at the ants, the critics, the nameless opposition. The Judases. Each word strikes out, desperate to reinforce the narrative. Winners win. Losers lose. That’s the rule. That’s the truth. The thought of sleep feels ridiculous now. The darkness, the light, is too loud, the silence too threatening.
Morning comes too soon, the sunlight returning to taunt him. The reflection waits. The tie is straightened, the stance adjusted. It’s perfect, isn’t it? It has to be. The posture, the hair, the suit—it’s all immaculate. They make it so, I demand it. But the whisper persists, threading through every moment: Not enough. Not enough. Not enough.
“I want my name on a world map,” he yells, his voice barely audible over the hum of the city below. “In big letters.”
"Yes, sir," I whisper out loud.
"You're a loser," the voice in my head tells me. "You're a gold-plated loser."
The tie is adjusted. The stance is corrected. The glass reflects back the image, solid and sure. Confidence. Resolution. Strength. That’s what the world sees. That’s what it has to see. The city hums outside, but it doesn’t touch this place. This place isn’t part of that noise. It’s above it.
“It’s not just a presidency,” the words come, quiet but certain. “It’s salvation.”
Salvation for them. For the nation. For history. For me. That’s how this works. It isn’t a burden. It’s a crown. And crowns shine. The ants swarm below, unaware of the man who towers above them, tweeting through the night, haunted by dreams of being forgotten.
I am their savior, I will save them from themselves.
They don't even know everything I do for them. They will find out.
About the Author
I am a politically independent, radical, socially anarchistic democratic-republican, a panentheistic pantheistic pagan Christian, mystic Pelagian agapist heretic, an IT professional, homesteader, husband, and father. When playing a verbal and visual philosopoet, I navigate the intersections of technology, philosophy, and human connection while striving to build a more just, compassionate, and interconnected world. Ideologically at home with unorganized anti-authoritarian left-libertarians, I reside in a conservative area of rural Vermont, where I attempt to be a good person, neighbor, and community member, stewarding the land, and playing with nature, my family, and my hypergraphic thought, ever in pursuit of a future shaped by solidarity, creativity, and love, and opportunities for my kids to have amazing life experiences and be the best themselves they can possibly be.