A Patriot Prayer rally and counterprotest at Terry Schrunk Plaza in Portland, Oregon, June 30, 2018 (Kingofthedead/Wikimedia Commons)
In his new book "To Catch a Fascist: The Fight to Expose the Radical Right," author Christopher Mathias takes a look at the growth of white nationalist groups in the United States and the role that anti-fascist activists play in fighting them.
President Donald Trump and his MAGA allies are declaring that antifa is a "terrorist organization"; antifa, however, is not an actual organization, but rather, a network of leftists who say their goal is to defeat fascism "by any means necessary," to borrow a phrase from Malcolm X. Many right-wing media outlets confuse antifa with Black Block Anarchists, who are a separate movement.
Mathias talked to antifa activists extensively when doing research for his book. In an excerpt republished by Talking Points Memo on February 3, the author describes a meeting between five white males in a diner in Washington State called 13 Coins; four of them were white nationalists, but the fifth was an antifa activist doing undercover research on them. And they had no idea that he wasn't at all sympathetic to their views.
During the vetting process, according to Mathias, the white nationalists would use the n-word; if someone was offended, that would expose them as a possible "infiltrator."
In the diner, according to Mathias, white nationalist "Anthony" (not his real name) "said the word loud and clear, rising above the clatter of the crowded restaurant, maybe loud enough even for their Latina waitress to hear."
"The sheer force of that word — those two syllables that, when spoken in succession from a white man's tongue, instantly invoked centuries of slavery, lynchings, and burning crosses — would make any 'anti-fascist' spy squirm in their seat, he argued," Mathias explains. "The fear of infiltrators was real. It was why national leadership encouraged members not to know each other's real names, to stick to pseudonyms. Were an infiltrator to discover anyone's actual identity, they'd be liable to lose their jobs, their scholarships, their girlfriends, be kicked out of their homes. Some might go to prison. Every member knew they stood to lose it all…. There was no hesitation. One by one, everyone at the table obliged, saying the word loud and clear."
According to Mathias, the "legacy of these anti-fascist infiltrations ran deep, sowing mistrust in the organization — everyone always on the lookout for the next mole."
"They finished eating and asked for the bill, prompting Anthony to launch into a rant about tipping," Mathias reports. "He refused to tip non-white waitresses, he said, like the waitress they had now, the one who had sweetly served them cheeseburgers and fries, and who, if she'd heard them using racial slurs, hadn't done anything about it. When it came time to pay, everyone agreed with Anthony: no tip. Satisfied with their decision and exhausted from their training, the group then walked out of 13 Coins and bid farewell to one another…. A short time later, though, one of these white men circled back to 13 Coins, parked, and walked inside."
Mathias continues, "His demeanor was different. Something gentler than before. He looked for the waitress, but she wasn't anywhere to be found, so he found the manager instead. 'Please give this to the waitress,' he told the manager, who was Black, pressing $300 into his hand. 'Please make sure she gets all of this and tell her I said sorry.' He started to leave but then stopped himself, asking the manager to pass along one more message. 'Please tell her that those guys I was with,' he said, 'please tell her those guys aren't my friends.'"
