Antifa’s Lack of Engagement With Fascism

by Mittenford

Fascism, as an ideology, is frequently met with widespread condemnation in contemporary discourse, a reaction rooted in its historical association with World War II, the Holocaust, and authoritarian regimes perceived as oppressive. This negative perception is not merely common but socially normative, shaping public understanding of fascism as an inherently destructive force. However, this prevailing narrative often lacks depth, particularly among those who identify as anti-fascists, whose critiques frequently reveal a superficial engagement with fascist philosophy and political principles.

For the purposes of this analysis, anti-fascists are defined as individuals, typically aligned with Left-Wing ideologies, who exhibit a resolute opposition to Fascism. Prominent figures in this sphere include digital content creators such as PhilosophyTube, ContraPoints, Vaush, Destiny, and Hasan Piker, who leverage platforms like YouTube to articulate their resistance. Notably, these individuals do not share a uniform definition of fascism, which points to a broader issue within anti-fascist circles: a lack of cohesive understanding of the ideology they oppose. This variability underscores a critical flaw — many anti-fascists prioritize critique over comprehension, relying on oversimplified frameworks like Umberto Eco’s 14 Points of Fascism or selectively interpreted historical accounts rather than engaging with primary fascist texts. Such approaches often result in arguments that are intellectually dishonest or fallacious, as they aim to caricature fascism rather than dissect its philosophical underpinnings.

Anti-fascists commonly portray fascism as a monolithic evil, attributing to it traits such as hatred of minorities, worker oppression, the suppression of individual liberties, and the defense of a decadent capitalist order. This characterization, however, rests on a problematic assumption: that fascism adheres to universal, unchanging principles. In reality, fascism is marked by its adaptability, designed to align with the organic needs of specific national contexts rather than adhering to a rigid dogma. Its proponents argue that it is anchored in life itself, flexible enough to incorporate progressive elements or evolve in response to local conditions. This fluidity undermines anti-fascist accusations of fascism as inherently traditionalist, capitalist, racist, or misogynist, as these labels fail to account for the ideology’s diverse manifestations across time and place.

The intellectual shortcomings of anti-fascism are further compounded by a reliance on biased secondary sources — often authored by communists, liberals, or anarchists — rather than primary fascist literature. It is rare for anti-fascists to demonstrate familiarity with more than a handful of fascist texts, if any, reflecting either ignorance or a belief that such works lack value. This selective engagement mirrors a hypocrisy evident in communist critiques of sources like The Black Book of Communism, which they dismiss as propaganda when used against their own ideology, yet they readily employ or produce analogous works to denounce fascism? This double standard reveals a deeper issue: an ego-driven condescension that casts fascists as irrational brutes unworthy of serious consideration. In doing so, anti-fascists risk embodying the very intolerance and aggression they attribute to their opponents, particularly when they justify violence against perceived fascists. This was best observed by George Orwell.

“By ‘Fascism’ they mean, roughly speaking, something cruel, unscrupulous, arrogant, obscurantist, anti-liberal and anti-working-class. Except for the relatively small number of Fascist sympathizers, almost any English person would accept ‘bully’ as a synonym for ‘Fascist’. That is about as near to a definition as this much-abused word has come.”

— George Orwell, What is Fascism?

This critique does not deny the existence of self-proclaimed fascists who misunderstand their own ideology or exhibit the brutish behavior anti-fascists decry. However, such ignorance is not unique to fascism; it pervades all ideological camps. Yet anti-fascists often treat any misguided Right-Winger or neo-Nazi claiming the fascist label as representative of the entire ideology, using these outliers to reinforce their narrative. This tendency reflects a broader intellectual trend: while communism is studied through Marx, Engels, or Lenin, and liberalism through Locke, Smith, or Mises, Italian Fascism is rarely engaged through its own thinkers, such as Giovanni Gentile or Benito Mussolini, beyond a cursory nod to The Doctrine of Fascism. This disparity raises a critical question: why is fascism denied the same direct intellectual engagement afforded to other ideologies?

At its core, anti-fascism often operates as an emotional rather than analytical response, driven by discomfort with unconventional ideas and tethered to the historical traumas of World War II. This emotionality narrows its scope, fixating on European fascism while overlooking post-war movements like Peronism in Argentina, Nasserism in Egypt, or Ba’athism in Iraq, each of which adapted fascist principles to distinct contexts. When confronted by a well-informed fascist — anti-fascists can struggle to respond effectively, exposing the limits of their knowledge and the fragility of their arguments.

This dynamic is poignantly captured by Italian philosopher Carlo Alberto Biggini, who highlighted the incoherence of anti-fascism’s coalition:

“Each time we are faced with an anti-fascist, to ask for further clarification: liberal or communist? Do you anti-fascists want a political regime in which the state machinery—which regulates all economic life—is dismantled, taking it away from free competition, which has governed all political life, hierarchizing it? Do you want to put an end to the hierarchical principle and the oneness of political command so as to bring the political struggle back to the level of democratic egalitarianism? Or do you want, instead, the end of every bourgeois residue, an iron statism capable of crushing any further velleity of the private person, the absolute subordination of the individual to the political organism, dictatorship to the bitter end and the continuous threat of capital execution? Liberals or Communists? But, when faced with this question, the anti-fascists respond by placing themselves on the right and on the left, demonstrating for this very reason, with obvious evidence, that the political problem of today is precisely that of the relationship between liberalism and communism, in other words that problem of which Fascism represents the first brilliant attempt at a solution.

Fascism has had an equal fate in its external history. On the one hand the democracies, scandalized by authoritarianism, the end of liberty, statism, autarchy; on the other Bolshevism, which viewed Fascism as a bourgeois and capitalist regime, indeed as the most bourgeois and the most capitalistic of all regimes. And, just as internally liberals and communists have only anti-fascism in common, so externally democracy and Bolshevism have found themselves united together only by anti-fascism. But if Fascism were overthrown at the national and international levels, what would tomorrow be? The answer to this question is now becoming evident, because with the end of Fascism the only thing that could happen is a renewed clash between liberalism and communism.”

— Carlo Alberto Biggini, Truth and Lies About Fascism

Biggini’s analysis reveals the paradox of anti-fascism: it unites liberals and communists under a shared banner, yet their divergent visions — democratic liberalism vs communist statism — render their alliance tenuous. He argues that fascism, far from being a mere villain, represents an attempt to reconcile these competing ideologies, a perspective anti-fascists rarely entertain due to their emotional and historical biases.

To deepen this analysis, consider fascism’s historical diversity. Beyond Mussolini’s Italy, Franco’s Spain blended fascist elements with conservative Catholicism, while Japan’s regime fused with imperial tradition. Post-war movements like Peronism championed workers’ rights, defying the “capitalist” label, and Singapore’s People’s Action party combined authoritarianism with economic pragmatism. These variations underscore fascism’s adaptability, a complexity anti-fascists often overlook in favor of a one-dimensional critique.

While some anti-fascists may engage thoughtfully with the ideology, the movement as a whole is hindered by its reliance on emotional rhetoric and selective scholarship. By failing to grapple with fascism’s philosophical foundations and diverse manifestations, anti-fascists undermine their own critiques, perpetuating a cycle of misunderstanding. A truly effective opposition requires intellectual honesty and a willingness to engage with fascism on its own terms, rather than through the lens of preconceived biases or historical trauma. Only then can anti-fascism move beyond caricature to offer a substantive challenge to the ideology it seeks to dismantle.