I can’t help but feel frustrated. After dedicating years to research that culminated in two books on fascism and anti-fascism, I find that my conclusions have been overlooked by both sides of the political spectrum, including mainstream conservative outlets.
This oversight is particularly disappointing, especially given the media’s ongoing discussions about “fascists” in Washington.
Fascism, as it existed in the 20th century, is dead. Anti-fascism has become a political tool that thrives on creating enemies.
To clarify my perspective: Fascism was a significant European movement in the interwar years, shaped by several historical circumstances. Soldiers who termed themselves “front generations” following the Great War, economic difficulties in nations like Italy and Spain, public discontent with corrupt parliamentary systems, and the rise of cults around leaders all played a role.
The fascist movement was heavily influenced by fears surrounding Russia’s Soviet rise. While communists sought to instigate revolutions across Europe, fascist groups endorsed a different nationalist revolutionary ideology.
The classic case is Mussolini’s Italy. The March on Rome in October 1922 marked Italy as the first nation to establish a full fascist regime. Though they had some influence throughout Europe, it was Italy where fascism merged cult leaders with the economic ideals of corporatism, fostering a sense of imperial nostalgia.
Interestingly, Mussolini’s regime initially garnered support from patriotic Italian Jews, actively opposing Nazi Germany’s anti-Semitism between 1934 and 1936. However, the 1938 anti-Semitic laws came under Germany’s pressure.
It’s crucial to make a distinction: Nazism wasn’t simply another variant of fascism. Hannah Arendt rightly identified Nazism as a totalitarian regime that engaged in genocide. While some elements were borrowed from Latin fascism, Nazi Germany drew much more from Stalin’s Soviet system, particularly in their use of fear, propaganda, and secret police.
To equate Mussolini’s authoritarian regime with Hitler’s genocidal government is, I think, a simplification, even if Mussolini’s final alliance with Hitler invites some comparison.
Critics like Jacob Siegel suggest that my stance attempts to “sanitize” fascism. That’s not my aim. I’m not romanticizing this past movement—it doesn’t align with today’s Western reality, which is driven by a leftist bureaucracy.
As for anti-fascism, it originated with Marxists using the term to label those resistant to their revolutions, expanding the definition to include capitalist states. By the 1950s, the “F scale” was even used to vet government workers and teachers for alleged fascist sympathies.
Nowadays, self-identified “anti-fascists” apply the term broadly to discredit anything that opposes their beliefs. Scholars like Yale’s Professor Timothy Snyder and Jason Stanley claim our current president embodies fascism, or even Nazism. They suggest that merely opposing aspects of feminist or LGBTQ agendas is akin to heading towards a fascist regime.
This kind of rhetoric serves to shield the accuser from scrutiny, masking their true intentions. In my earlier work, I documented instances where groups like Antifa and Black Lives Matter mobilized in American cities, often echoing the same discipline and ruthlessness seen in early Nazi movements.
However, today’s left lacks a robust counterforce like the German communists of the past and seems to benefit from mainstream media support, which often portrays leftist violence as justified. This mirrors the tactics of both Nazis and communists, claiming victimhood even while in positions of power—manufacturing threats to stifle dissent.
Fascism, in its 20th-century form, is indeed gone. Anti-fascism now operates as a political instrument, thriving by creating adversaries. And, it seems, the left has become quite skilled at employing this tactic.
