However, as Neiwert explains, this is all a small part of what has become a cottage industry of hard right harassment. The town of Kalispell was also the base of radio host John Stokes:

The talk-show host in question is a fellow named John Stokes, who operates little KGEZ-AM, a radio station south of town next to Highway 93 (in fact, there are reasons to believe he bought the station mainly as a way to scam the state out of millions in condemnation proceedings, but that's another story). Shortly after Stokes took over in 2000, he began broadcasting right-wing screeds that indeed made Rush Limbaugh sound like "the voice of reason" in contrast. [...] The primary targets of Stokes' venom, though, were conservationists and environmentalists, for whom not even the most appalling comparison nor the most groundless accusation was adequate: Stokes constantly referred to them as Nazis, and the central thrust of all his attacks was that "greens" were responsible for nearly everything that was wrong with life in Western Montana, particularly the depressed economy.

Well, unfortunately, we're starting to see some of this already manifesting itself in the fast-rising tide of jingoism surrounding the conservative movement's support for George W. Bush's war in Iraq. This means we are indeed entering some very dangerous waters that could sweep us into the dark currents of fascism.

We've been hearing for some time now, from the likes of Rush Limbaugh and James Taranto of the Wall Street Journal, that Americans who dissent from Bush's war strategy are being "treasonous," "pro-Saddam" and "anti-American," and from the likes of Andrew Sullivan and David Horowitz that liberals now represent a "fifth column" of potential traitors who would aid the enemy. Now, from the repulsive Michael Savage sector, we're also hearing that such dissenters are a threat and should be arrested.

Neiwert understandably has an ambivalent relationship with this principle of internet manners: it makes a lot of sense that people understand they are immediately stifling debate when they make cheap comparisons between, say, enthusiasts of a particular flavor of Unix, and Nazis; it is to be hoped people will be so embarrassed by doing so that debate will be enhanced, and the concept of Nazism (or fascism) will be taken far more seriously. However, it's also true that we need to understand that fascism (or Nazism) has a link to our own past, and that link has to be acknowledged. For example, when Sen. Richard Durbin (D-IL) warned that the conduct of prison guards at Guantanamo Bay behaved in ways reminiscent of the Nazis, a storm of protest was raised. The literal objections were logically silly: Durbin was saying the methods are reminiscent of totalitarian police forces, not that the USA is now equivalent to the 3rd Reich; moreover, the obviously self-serving protest that such comparisons "cheapen the sufferings of Holocaust survivors" is no longer viable, as those making such protests had just two years earlier been making the same allegories to many Arab states, not just that of Iraq. You can't say Durbin cheapened the sufferings of Holocaust victims if you also use the term "feminazi."

Neiwert's study is very scholarly and empirical; he's encountered the big names, he's an expert on the histories of the individual groups, he's well-acquainted with their peculiar ideologies, and he knows quite a lot about their funding. So he restrains himself from making some of the connections I would like to propose. He remains ambivalent about fascist analogs, exasperated by their abuse (by the left, by liberals, or by conservatives or the right), yet frustrated by our coyness about acknowledging fascism. He's attempted to overcome this coyness by coining the phrase pseudo-fascism; I've tried to persuade people to use the term "falangism." Both terms have problems: "pseudo-fascism" attempts to capture the fraudulent character of the hard right and its newly-mainstreamed epiphany, but unfortunately suggests the fraud is on those who want fascism—not those who fear it, which is the actual meaning Neiwert wanted to convey ("The Rise of Pseudo-Fascism," p.23); "falangism" is obscure, exotic, and, worst of all, likely to be understood as a discrete ideology. Both attempt to capture the heterogeneity of fascist ideologies in a sort of high-entropy fascist regime, but it's a fair accusation that it's unreasonable to expect large proportions of the public to ever have a clear notion of what these words mean.

I think, though, that the key to resolving Neiwert's (and my) wariness about the promiscuous use of "fascist" is to understand the imperialistic nature of discourse about fascism. Imperialism always harbors an idealistic veneer: it "intervenes," it establishes "protectorates," it "diffuses the blessings of civilization," and so on. It requires a clear "other" as an illustration of what it is superior to, and usually it requires more than one. "Other #1" is the bad regime that prevails in the taget for imperialism: its current parallel would be "Islamofascism." Random violence or disorder would be other examples, provided the intervention is smaller. "Other #2" is the bad regime that is competing for control of the place involved. An obvious recent example was the USSR/Russia; "Al-Qaeda" has been an unsatisfactory alternative, since it's too dependent on local regimes.

Critical to the story is that, no matter what we do, we'll never be remotely as bad as the Other. The Other is Nazi-like. We are incapable of ever being remotely comparable to Nazis, no matter what we do. This is the distinction: Rush Limbaugh, if he were fair, would have to concede that, having labeled feminists "feminazis," he was forced to put up with the most far-fetched Nazi-analogies possible, even if it meant an invidious comparison with US imperialist activity. In fact, there is an inverse relation between Limbaugh's use of the term "fascist" (or "Nazi") and its applicability. A society dominated by feminists might have problems, but fascism would not be one of them because the social relations of production that fascism exists to defend would be under constant challenge. Moreover, the large bureaucratic entities for state power would be insufferable as "patriarchal." In contrast, being shacked to the floor of a cage by a man working for the US government is exactly the same as being shackled to the floor of a cage by an actual, bona-fide, Nazi.

The essence of Neiwert's essay is to identify common patterns and actions of fascist movements before they come to power; he uses several methods to screen out ideologies that are merely rightwing, but include those that demind racist, anti-democratic violence. This is a difficult thing to do, as we've seen with my earlier essays on Lawrence Britt and Umberto Eco. However, we reach the endgame, and we are stuck: why is the fascist analogy used so poorly? I would argue it is used badly because it is used by the right to defend imperialism, and by the left to promise redemption. Both extremes are wrong; the right, as we've seen, wants to define any potential enemy (including liberals) as beyond any human consideration. The left wants to narrow the range of debate, so as to equate democratic populism and liberalism with its failures of persuasion—and with fascism.

In a future post, I hope to discuss the left's long-running problem with the word "fascism." However, that topic is relatively academic, since the left is so ineffectual. In the meantime, the more urgent business is to explain the relationship of the "Trans-European Project" (discussed here) and its role in the creation of fascism out of the moral wreckage of imperialism.