“In general, I support the Christchurch shooter and his manifesto.”
That is how the man accused of shooting at least 20 people in a Walmart in El Paso, Texas, began the document he posted on the Web site 8chan.
The atrocity comes in the wake of a murderous attack on the Chabad of Poway synagogue in California on April 27.
Illustration: June Hsu
The man detained for that crime also posted a manifesto to 8chan and also described the Christchurch shooter as a catalyst, saying: “He showed me that it could be done.”
What might induce people to imitate the Christchurch massacre, an atrocity in which a self-identified fascist allegedly murdered 51 innocents in cold blood?
To answer that question, we must grasp the historical evolution of fascism in the 21st century. The ongoing “war on terror” normalized an anti-Muslim rhetoric that replicated, almost exactly, all the traditional tropes of anti-semitism.
Yet, in the English-speaking world, the main beneficiaries of the new racism were not fascists but right-wing populists.
A new generation of politicians, parties and media personalities openly embraced xenophobia and Islamophobia, but, for the most part, they eschewed the culture of violence associated with genuine fascists.
Racist populists denounced the “elite” for facilitating immigration. They did not, however, call for that elite to be executed, nor did they build paramilitary forces to physically attack those they deemed “traitors.”
Fascism grew online rather than in the real world, with neo-Nazis and white supremacists finding an audience on Web sites like 4chan (and later 8chan).
The distinctive online troll culture allowed rants about Hitler, gas chambers and death squads to circulate widely disguised as edgy “humor.”
The election of US President Donald Trump, a man associated with racist populism, encouraged some fascists to move from online propaganda to real-world activism.
In the US, their efforts culminated in the Unite the Right Rally in Charlottesville in 2017, the event at which anti-racist activist Heather Heyer was murdered.
However, after Charlottesville, most of the fascist organizations fell apart: in part because of scrutiny from authorities and the media, but mostly because of the consistent counterprotests by anti-fascists.
The Christchurch perpetrator planned his attack as a response to that defeat, and the similar decline of the Australian fascist grouplets he admired.
That is crucial to understanding both his massacre and the killings inspired by it.
He embraced terrorism precisely because terror attacks could be launched by isolated individuals, people without organizational backing or any real political support.
Anti-fascists might prevent white supremacists from holding marches or meetings. However, it is much harder to stop an unknown terrorist from opening fire in a public place.
The Christchurch killer made clear in his manifesto that his decision to murder Muslims was entirely tactical. He regarded all non-whites as “invaders” and chose Muslims simply because Islamophobia made them unpopular.
In a sense, violence was an end in itself, a way to distinguish himself from racist populists who talked but did not act.
It was on that basis that an Islamophobic attack could inspire the Poway shooter to shoot up a synagogue and the El Paso killer to target Hispanics, as one form of racism blended into another.
“My whole life I have been preparing for a future that currently does not exist,” the alleged perpetrator of the Walmart massacre said.
The bleakness of his manifesto, a lament about the supposed consequences of immigration and automation, echoed the grim vision presented by the Christchurch shooter, who advocated a doctrine that he called “accelerationism.”
Precisely because he did not believe the organized fascist right could grow in the short term, the perpetrator thought society doomed — and saw mass murder as a way of speeding up a destruction that was already coming.
His manifesto was addressed not to the public as a whole, but to readers of fascist-inflected sites like 8chan.
That is why he studded his manifesto with memes — even including some on the livestream of the actual murders, so that online fascists would feel a sense of ownership for the killing.
In that way, he hoped to make his actions a source of fascination for damaged people whose obsession with race theory cloaked a prevailing sense of their own inadequacy and failure.
In the US in particular, gun massacres have become a cultural phenomenon by which men vent all kinds of frustrations — the subsequent shooting in Ohio marked the 252nd such killing in the US this year alone.
The Christchurch killer sought to politicize the familiar script associated with such events.
To the young men on 8chan, he presented gun massacre both as a political tactic and as a form of personal redemption — a way for socially awkward misfits to transform themselves into fascist supermen.
As many commentators noted, the video of the Christchurch massacre looked like a computer game.
The message for other online fascists who watched the awful footage was that, by opening fire on perceived enemies, they too could become the main player and not an non-player character — even if only for a moment.
That perception was accentuated by the culture on 8chan, where self-identified Nazis discussed each new gun massacre like connoisseurs, debating the weapons tactics used and tallying up “scores” of victims.
“It’s safe to say he is ‘our guy,’” one poster said in the hours after the El Paso killings.
“Things ARE accelerating and attacks are happening with increasing frequency. Hail our martyrs! Hail our heroes!” another wrote.
We can only prevent future massacres if we understand the threat we face. To that end, we need an open discussion — without euphemisms and evasions — about what fascism is and how it works.
We need to distinguish genuine fascism — an ideology of violence centered on the extermination of opponents — from the right-wing populism of Trump and Fox News and Australian Senator Pauline Hanson.
Yet we also need to recognize that the normalization of racism — by populists and others — makes the work of fascists easier.
When, for example, Australian commentator Andrew Bolt says that “immigration is becoming colonization,” his discussion of the proportion of Muslims in Lakemba or the number of Jews in North Caulfield does not culminate in a call for immigrants to be killed.
Bolt is not a fascist, but his work does help popularize the “Great Replacement” theory associated with all the recent fascist terrorists, as well as providing a context in which violence against supposed “colonizers” might seem necessary.
With Trump demonizing US anti-fascists, it is also important to recognize the importance of the protests that, after 2017, did so much to drive fascists off the streets.
We need more of that sentiment, not less — and we need to take it online, so as to confront the radicalization taking place on the Internet.
Most of all, we need, as a matter of urgency, to develop a positive political vision for the future.
In their manifestos, both the Christchurch killer and the man arrested in El Paso wrote about climate change, blaming immigrants for environmental destruction.
At one level, the doctrine that the Christchurch perpetrator called “ecofascism” is obviously ridiculous. Global warming is, as the name suggests, a planetary problem: It cannot be solved by borders.
However, the widespread despair about a seemingly unstoppable environmental catastrophe allows fascist accelerationism to get a hearing.
If the world is fated to burn, the notion of fanning the flames — or, indeed, becoming the fire yourself — could always find adherents.
That is why, to counter fascist violence, we need to offer a better future, not simply more of the “status quo.” Confronted with the politics of hate, it is all the more necessary to set a course on hope.
Could Asia be on the verge of a new wave of nuclear proliferation? A look back at the early history of the North Atlantic Treaty Organization (NATO), which recently celebrated its 75th anniversary, illuminates some reasons for concern in the Indo-Pacific today. US Secretary of Defense Lloyd Austin recently described NATO as “the most powerful and successful alliance in history,” but the organization’s early years were not without challenges. At its inception, the signing of the North Atlantic Treaty marked a sea change in American strategic thinking. The United States had been intent on withdrawing from Europe in the years following
My wife and I spent the week in the interior of Taiwan where Shuyuan spent her childhood. In that town there is a street that functions as an open farmer’s market. Walk along that street, as Shuyuan did yesterday, and it is next to impossible to come home empty-handed. Some mangoes that looked vaguely like others we had seen around here ended up on our table. Shuyuan told how she had bought them from a little old farmer woman from the countryside who said the mangoes were from a very old tree she had on her property. The big surprise
The issue of China’s overcapacity has drawn greater global attention recently, with US Secretary of the Treasury Janet Yellen urging Beijing to address its excess production in key industries during her visit to China last week. Meanwhile in Brussels, European Commission President Ursula von der Leyen last week said that Europe must have a tough talk with China on its perceived overcapacity and unfair trade practices. The remarks by Yellen and Von der Leyen come as China’s economy is undergoing a painful transition. Beijing is trying to steer the world’s second-largest economy out of a COVID-19 slump, the property crisis and
As former president Ma Ying-jeou (馬英九) wrapped up his visit to the People’s Republic of China, he received his share of attention. Certainly, the trip must be seen within the full context of Ma’s life, that is, his eight-year presidency, the Sunflower movement and his failed Economic Cooperation Framework Agreement, as well as his eight years as Taipei mayor with its posturing, accusations of money laundering, and ups and downs. Through all that, basic questions stand out: “What drives Ma? What is his end game?” Having observed and commented on Ma for decades, it is all ironically reminiscent of former US president Harry