• THE NAZIS NEXT DOOR.
Neo-Nazism has been around a long time and is on upswing, writes Jennifer Evans.
We ask ourselves this question each time we are confronted with an event as troubling as the one this past week in Virginia: What is it about far-right ideology that motivates young men to imagine life through the prism of violence?
The appeal of white supremacism is not new. While many of us were reminded by the death of Ernst Zundel that Canada has had its own dalliance with far-right activism, white pride organizations have a long history on this continent. Long before Hitler’s rise to power in Germany, Canada would see branches of the KKK established in some of its largest cities. As Bernie Farber wrote in the Citizen this week, even bucolic Ottawa had its own neo-Nazi riot in 1993.
What explains the continued appeal of the far right and who are its constituents?
We may be shocked at what the research suggests. Contrary to the popular image of ne’er-dowells and misfits, and certainly there are some, adherents to the radical right also come from the educated middle class.
The same holds true for today. The leaders of several of the altright organizations holding rallies on college campuses were, themselves, students of history, some at some of the most esteemed institutions in the United States and Canada. Richard Spencer, an avowed white supremacist and president of the National Policy Institute studied intellectual history at Duke while his wife boasts a PhD from the University of Toronto. This situation is slightly different in European countries, however. In Germany, where education is tied more overtly to social class, most neo-Nazis are petty criminals, often older when radicalized, caught up in the ideology while in prison.
As hard as it is to imagine, the white supremacist could very likely be the person next door. Senior fellow Eric Ward at the Southern Poverty Law Group, who has spent a lifetime studying hate groups, puts it even more bluntly: “Contrary to a popular image of white nationalists living exclusively off the grid” they are teachers, lawyers, secretaries, soccer moms and bus drivers. Indeed, most frightening of all, “they are our neighbours.”
While there is much discord among the various right-wing groups themselves, at base they share one common thread: a virulent form of anti-Semitism that forms the theoretical core of the movement.
If the far-right predates the Trump administration, what accounts for its growing visibility? According to Michael Kimmel, director of Stony Brook University’s Center for the Study of Men and Masculinities, who has conducted research into the appeal of right-wing groups at home and internationally, it is as simple as the need for a sense of camaraderie and belonging in a rapidly changing world.
This idea was already at play in the 1960s, when West German scholars looking to explain the appeal of fascism questioned the numbing effect of the entertainment industry, economic uncertainty and the decreased influence of organized religion. These ideas seem validated by spikes in right-wing organizing around the Civil Rights and feminist movements in the 1970s and ’80s, and again in recent years with the success of gay marriage legislation, greater awareness around diversity, multiculturalism, the impact of colonialism on Indigenous populations, migration and trans rights. In this sense, it isn’t unremarkable that right-wing adherents have been among those to support the “free speech” campaigns of controversial Toronto Prof. Jordan Peterson and the disgruntled Google employee whose anti-diversity memo sparked the call for more rallies across the United States.
Although women are certainly susceptible to rightist ideology, they occupy a more ambiguous place. That’s despite the highprofile presence of women in the international populist and far-right scene in France and Germany, especially. On the one hand, these movements are explicitly masculinist. Indeed, the faces in the crowd in Charlottesville were mostly men. On the other hand, the far right relies on the participation of women. Despite the language of men’s and women’s natural roles, men in public, women in private, women are at the forefront of demonstrations, rallies and political parties, especially in the curiously termed “anti-gender movement” sweeping Europe today, whose adherents propose a return to the traditional family. The image of traditional society is appealing; but the reality seems far less attainable.
If some of the reasons people gravitate to these movements are social, others are most certainly psychological, at least according to Kimmel. Many adherents are victims of bullying and abuse in childhood. These groups serve as a place where they believe they might find dignity of purpose, at the expense of all those they blame for having wronged them. Recruitment tends to happen in the late teenage years, or the early 20s. That explains why, in Canada, the United States and in Germany, the military has had to stare down the problem of radicalization alongside, now, universities.
Statistics suggest too that much of the upswing in recent months is situational, owing to the changed tone coming out of the White House, which has most certainly emboldened the right. College campuses have seen an upswing in right-wing activity in 2017 alone, while NPR reports an 86 per cent increase in anti-Semitic crimes these past 12 months alone.
What is to be done? Now more than ever, we need swift, judicious commentary and action on the part of political and civic leaders when faced with the rightist threat. Universities must continue to enforce anti-hate policies for on- and off-campus groups seeking a forum for their ideas.
This is a public safety issue as much as a workplace one. And we, as a society, need to take heed with how we navigate these waters.
Writing about the appeal of the Nazis in hidden diaries, a Jewish German veteran of the First World War, Victor Klemperer, made note of the changing language of the times. For him, the appeal of fascism could not be understood solely by armed bullies at rallies. It lurked in the language of everyday life, where gradual shifts in meaning, the turn away from facts and evidence, the reliance on empty maxims such as “great” and “fake” and “blame” pushed people, unthinkingly, further away from those other words like justice, tolerance, and the common good. Jennifer Evans is a history professor at Carleton University, and co-editor of #NewFascismSyllabus