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Praise for Joe Mulhall and his work
Mulhall watches the extreme right revival from the inside as an anti-fascist infiltrator criss-crossing the global networks of modern fascism but he brings a deep analytical focus. By the end of it we understand one thing: the threat of a second fascist era is real.
Paul Mason, author of Postcapitalism
Few, if any, are better placed to write a book of this breadth and scale than Joe Mulhall. Not only increasingly pertinent, the global far right needs to be understood on all levels if it is to be tamed. Many, me included, would enthusiastically embrace such a book.
Mark Townsend, Observer Home Affairs editor and author of No Return: The True Story of How Martyrs Are Made
Joe has had a unique view of the far right over the past decade as it transformed from a marginal subculture into one of the defining political currents of our time. He understands how these groups think and operate, and is perfectly placed to guide readers through this disturbing but vital story.
Daniel Trilling, author of Bloody Nasty People: The Rise of Britains Far Right and Lights in the Distance: Exile and Refuge at the Borders of Europe
This is an urgent missive from the global frontlines of the fight against fascism, combining a gift for storytelling with meticulous research and academic rigour.
Nima Elbagir, CNN Senior International Correspondent
ii Mulhall has been studying far-right politics since long before anyone in the United States realized that an understanding of this issue would be crucial for policymakers, local governments, corporations, civil society, journalists, and philanthropy in the 21st century. After four years of watching the rise of domestic extremism, many decision-makers now know that they need to understand whats unfolding in the United States and abroad. This book moves past the hot takes that have dominated the public conversation by providing in-depth empirical evidence and analysis that can truly ground the conversation and help the reader situate whats happening in the United States within a broader historical, geopolitical, and technical context.
danah boyd, partner researcher at Microsoft Research and founder and president of the Data & Society Institute, New York
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For my friends at HOPE not hate
This book tells the story of the rise of the global far right but wherever the organised politics of hatred have emerged, there are people who have risen up and fought back. My first thanks go to these countless, nameless anti-fascists, radicals and romantics for their sacrifice and struggle, which continue to provide me with hope that we can win.
More personally, my thanks go to my friends, colleagues and comrades at HOPE not hate (HNH), whose tireless work and passion inspire me every day. A special thanks must go to its founder Nick Lowles for creating the organisation that has shaped my life over the past decade. None of the stories in this book would have happened without him placing his trust in me and allowing me to turn my passion into a job. This book also touches briefly on the story of numerous colleagues, especially Patrik Hermansson, David Lawrence, Simon Murdoch and Titus. None of this would have been possible without their courage and commitment and they each have a book of their own to write one day. Thanks must also go to the wider HNH family and the numerous undercover sources whose names cannot be mentioned in this book.
I am deeply indebted to my agent Kay Peddle, without whom this book would have never made it to print. Her guidance and patience are extremely appreciated. I must also thank my editor Duncan Heath and all at Icon Books for taking on this project and being such a pleasure to work with.
A book like this relies heavily on the scholarship of numerous academics, researchers and anti-fascists who have x produced necessary and fascinating work. I hope my truncated overviews do not exploit or misrepresent their work. The endnotes of this book show where my countless debts lie, and I hope I represent their work fairly.
Numerous friends pop up in these pages, namely Rob Trigwell, Rob Powell and Ena Miller. Thanks for sharing those adventures with me and for checking I retold them accurately. Thanks also to Nithi Sevaguru for his kind help in India. Others have graciously taken the time to read the draft manuscript and provided invaluable feedback, especially Craig Fowlie, Duncan Stoddard and Laura Dixon. Their honest criticism and recommendations have been a great help and improved this text significantly.
As well as the history of the far right stretching back across the post-war period, this book is entwined with personal stories that cover the last decade of my life. At times this work has no doubt made me difficult to be around, and at these moments it was the unwavering support of my closest friends that got me through. A special mention must go to those who have always been there for me, many of whom I have already mentioned above. On this account, thanks must also go to, among others, Mark and Kat Neale, Rob Gordon and Charlie Field, Matthew Walker and Sian Cain, Ed Thurlow, Charlie Burness, Ali Horn, James Bowker and Steven Judge. Apologies to those there is not space to mention, but special thanks to the rest of my friends from Woking and university.
Finally I must acknowledge my family, without whose love I would not have managed. Endless love and thanks to mum, dad, Philip, Kelly and Rich. Thanks for picking up the pieces.
It was roughly 8.00am when I entered the Wetherspoons pub at Stansted airport. As I waited at the packed bar, surrounded by stag and hen parties, I noticed a man to my right who stood out among the groups of twenty-somethings in fancy dress. He wore a Fred Perry polo shirt, black with champagne twin tipping detail on the collars and cuffs and an embroidered laurel wreath over his left breast. It was tucked neatly into bleached Levis jeans, cuffs rolled halfway up his shins, held up by plain black braces with silver clips. Most striking of all were his cherry-red Dr Martens boots, matched in their high sheen only by his closely shaved head. I scanned his arms for tattoos, the usual way to distinguish a racist skinhead from the non-racist original. Over his left arm he had draped a classic maroon Merc Harrington jacket with ribbed cuffs and hem, flap-covered side pockets and the standard tartan lining, leaving just the bottom half of a crucified skinhead tattoo protruding. Inconclusive. However, as he reached out his right arm to pay for his drink, a large Odal rune tattoo came into clear view. The symbol, originally a letter in the pre-Roman runic alphabet, was adopted by the Nazis, used by some Waffen SS divisions and subsequently embraced by post-war fascists. As if further confirmation were needed, he was joined at the bar by a group of similarly dressed skinheads, one of whom the bravest or perhaps the stupidest was wearing a white T-shirt emblazoned with a hooded figure atop a white steed rearing up on its back legs. Above it was the unmistakable logo of the Ku Klux Klan. I instantly knew they were going to the same place I was: Warsaw.
It was November 2018 and I was on my way to Poland with a colleague from HOPE not hate, the British anti-fascist organisation that we work for. We were to attend the Polish Independence Day demonstration, a huge event that has become a major date in the calendar of the international far right. We were to infiltrate the demonstration, photograph international attendees, and report back to London with our findings. My colleague had overslept and was in a taxi frantically winding his way to the airport so I finished my drink and made a swift exit from the bar to board the plane without him. As I entered the cowshed-like structure that passes for a departure gate at Stansted my chest tightened as I practically tripped over a group of activists from the British branch of the far-right youth movement Generation Identity (GI). By chance they didnt notice me which was lucky as my HOPE not hate colleagues and I had spent the past year attacking them in print with a series of damaging exposs. I hid behind a newspaper and began to sweat as the realisation struck that I was to be locked in a confined space with a menagerie of racists for the next two and a half hours with no escape should one of them recognise me. I wasnt particularly worried by the pubescent GI crew but the fifteen or so inebriated skinheads were a different matter altogether. I made a last-minute decision to get on the plane regardless, boarding last but one via the rear door. My colleague dived aboard as the doors were closing and thankfully we touched down in Warsaw without incident.
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