War Is Upon Us: The Global Far-Right Resurgence and the New World Conflict
The Far Right Mobilizes Across the West
Over the past decade, far-right and fascist movements have surged from the fringes to the mainstream across the United States, Europe, and the United Kingdom. In the U.S., the presidency of Donald Trump (2017–2021) emboldened ultra-nationalists and white supremacists, evidenced by events like the 2017 Charlottesville rally—where marchers chanted neo-Nazi slogans—and the January 6, 2021 Capitol. Far-right extremists in the U.S. have increasingly threatened democratic institutions and minority communities; indeed, data shows they committed the vast majority of domestic extremist murders in recent years. According to the Anti-Defamation League, over 90% of extremist-related killings in 2021 were carried out by right-wing extremists, a continuation of a decade-long trend. These actors range from white nationalist militias and self-styled “Patriot” paramilitaries to the so-called alt-right internet trolls—different factions unified by overlapping grievances and hatreds.
In Europe, a parallel wave of right-wing populism has swept through numerous countries. Once-marginal parties opposed to immigration and multiculturalism now command sizeable followings and even share or hold power. Germany’s Alternative für Deutschland (AfD), for example, has ridden anti-immigrant and anti-establishment sentiment to record support. In 2024, the AfD became the first far-right party to win a German state election since World War and is polling as the second-strongest party nationwide. About one in five Germans now view the AfD favorably, the highest level Pew has recorded in eight years of surveys. Far-right parties are not only growing in isolation—they are coordinating and taking inspiration from each other. AfD supporters, like other European right-populists, admire Donald Trump; nearly 40% of AfD sympathizers expressed confidence in Trump’s world leadership, versus only 9% of other Germans. This transatlantic affinity highlights how the U.S. and European far right feed off a shared narrative of nationalism and cultural grievance. In the UK, elements of far-right ideology have similarly permeated politics. The post-Brexit political scene saw the emergence of the Reform UK party (successor to UKIP) under figures like Nigel Farage. While positioning itself as an anti-elite, anti-immigration force, Reform UK has courted controversy for ties to extremist rhetoric. In 2025 local elections, Reform made significant gains, yet within weeks dozens of its new councillors were exposed for sharing openly Islamophobic and far-right content on social media, including reposts from the fringe hate group Britain First and calls for mass deportations of Muslims. Even as Reform’s leadership claimed to vet candidates, the incidents underscored how Britain’s far-right currents have seeped into ostensibly mainstream outfits. Meanwhile, explicitly fascist street movements have also mobilized—such as English nationalist activists organizing anti-immigrant marches.
This resurgence of the far right is not confined to party politics. It is a broader sociopolitical phenomenon, blurring traditional boundaries between mainstream conservatism and extremist fringe. In country after country, right-wing populists have pushed xenophobic “law and order” agendas and conspiracy theories into public discourse. Alarmingly, their rise creates a “vicious cycle” in which even establishment center-right parties feel pressured to adopt hard-line positions on immigration and culture, thus legitimizing far-right ideas rather than undercutting them. As one analysis notes, far-right parties could soon become the largest force on the political right in Europe, as copying their rhetoric only further normalizes them. Already, radical right parties hold positions in governing coalitions in 8 out of 27 EU countries, and hard-line agendas once taboo are now openly debated in parliament. From Italy’s Giorgia Meloni to France’s Marine Le Pen, far-right leaders have capitalized on public anxieties about migration, identity, and economic change. Even where they haven’t won national power, they are influencing policy from the outside. For example, Germany’s mainstream opposition recently broke a long-standing norm by cooperating with the AfD to demand drastic immigration crackdowns, an unprecedented legitimation of the far right’s agenda in the Bundestag.
In short, the far right has mobilized whether we like it or not. They are setting the terms of debate in many societies and undermining the liberal democratic consensus. What unites these movements, and what are their grievances? Across borders, common themes emerge: nativism, racism, Islamophobia, anti-elitism, and a narrative that their nation’s “true” culture is under threat. Understanding these unifying factors is essential to grasping why the stage is being set for a broader conflict – a “war” on the values of pluralism and equality.
Shared Grievances: Nationalist Fury and Cultural Backlash
Despite differing local contexts, far-right groups in the US, Europe, and UK voice strikingly similar grievances and uniting factors. Chief among them is a rejection of immigration and multiculturalism – often framed as a defense of a mythologized national identity (white and Christian in many cases) against “replacement” by outsiders. This phenomenon, known as the “Great Replacement” conspiracy theory, holds that shadowy elites are importing non-white, non-Christian immigrants to “replace” the native population. It has become a rallying cry for white supremacists globally, from neo-Nazis in Germany to Ku Klux Klan sympathizers in America. For example, when news broke in early 2024 that AfD leaders in Germany had met with neo-Nazis to discuss plans for mass deportation of migrants and even German citizens of foreign origin, it was revealed that an Austrian extremist at the meeting explicitly invoked the Great Replacement theory. The paranoid vision of a “white genocide” orchestrated by liberal elites and foreigners motivates many on the far right.
Racism and ethnonationalism are thus at the core of the far right’s grievance narrative. In the United States, white nationalist slogans like the “14 Words” (“We must secure the existence of our people and a future for white children”) have moved from the extremist fringe into broader conservative discourse in coded forms. Far-right agitators stoke fears that crime, economic hardship, or cultural change are the fault of immigrants and minorities. In Europe, the 2015–2016 refugee influx from Muslim-majority countries (Syria, Afghanistan, etc.) ignited a backlash that far-right parties expertly exploited. They portrayed refugees as a threat to public safety and Western culture, often using racially charged or outright racist tropes. Germany’s AfD, France’s National Rally, Italy’s Lega and Brothers of Italy – all have campaigned on stopping “mass migration” and have frequently been caught in racist controversies (e.g. AfD politicians referring to African immigrants as “knife men” or “barbarians” in need of expulsion). In the UK, Nigel Farage built UKIP and later Reform UK by warning of immigrant “swarms” and claiming that foreigners undermine British values. Farage infamously unveiled a “Breaking Point” poster during the Brexit campaign depicting a column of Syrian refugees – a propaganda image widely condemned as racist fearmongering. This racist scapegoating continues: as recently as 2023 Farage declared that Muslims are inherently different and “do not share our British values,” an “outright Islamophobia” that even senior Conservatives criticized.
Beneath the surface, many far-right supporters also feel economic and status grievances. They are often older, less urban, and feel left behind by globalization and progressive social change. Stagnant wages, deindustrialization, and the 2008 financial crisis bred resentment that populist demagogues channel toward immigrants and minorities. Research indicates that perceived threats to social status – for instance, fear of job competition from migrants or loss of cultural dominance – strongly predict support for far-right parties in Europe. Populist leaders tap into a sense that “the people” (defined narrowly) have been betrayed by cosmopolitan liberal elites who care more about refugees or ethnic minorities than the native working class. This narrative of grievance explains why far-right movements often mix racist rhetoric with anti-establishment fury directed at mainstream politicians, the media, academics, and NGOs. It is no coincidence that far-right conspiracies often merge fears of immigrants with fears of left-wing or globalist subversion. For example, in the U.S., white supremacist groups simultaneously rant about a “Marxist-Islamic” plot – combining old anti-Communist and anti-Muslim tropes. In Europe, France’s far right labels its opponents “Islamo-gauchistes” (Islamo-leftists), implying a collusion between Muslim immigrants and leftist intellectuals to undermine French society.
Crucially, Islamophobia has become the glue that binds these diverse far-right factions. Anti-Muslim hatred is a prejudice that the far right finds more publicly acceptable to espouse than overt anti-Black racism or antisemitism, and it provides a convenient enemy “other” in both domestic and foreign contexts. As one analyst observes, “Islamophobia is increasingly uniting formerly disparate factions [of the right]. It is more socially acceptable than anti-Semitism while still demonizing a minority group. Plus, its emphasis on religion allows avoidance of explicitly racial terms.” Indeed, Islamophobia has effectively replaced classic antisemitism as the central conspiracy trope for many on the far right, or else joined it in a two-headed monster of hate. In the narrative promoted by far-right politicians and ideologues: Islam is not a religion but a dangerous political ideology; Muslims are inherently prone to terrorism or refusal to assimilate; and “globalist” leftists are aiding Muslim immigration as a plot against Western civilization. Such themes echo across the Atlantic. American Islamophobes accuse Muslims of infiltrating the government to impose “Sharia law” and paint every Muslim citizen as a potential traitor. European right-wing populists claim their nations are being “Islamized” – in France and Britain they speak of “no-go zones” under Sharia, and warn that “Europe has already been lost to multiculturalism” unless immigration is halted. These paranoid claims, though divorced from reality, serve a strategic purpose: They allow the far right to recast racist ideology as a defense of “Judeo-Christian” heritage or “secular liberal” values. By attacking Muslims under the guise of security, women’s rights, or LGBT rights, far-right actors attempt to sanitize their bigotry. For example, a U.S. Islamophobic rally in 2017 was billed as supporting victims of female genital mutilation and honor killings – but in truth it was a broad far-right convergence demonizing Muslims, from suit-and-tie white nationalists to skinhead militias and armed Patriot groups. Participants at such “March Against Sharia” events ranged from neo-Nazis to right-wing Zionists and even a few misguided LGBTQ supporters, all united by anti-Muslim hostility. The pretext of opposing “radical Islam” provides cover for what is essentially an assault on immigrants, people of color, and liberal pluralism.
To summarize, the far right’s uniting factors are xenophobic nationalism, racial and religious hatred (especially toward Muslims), and anger at liberal elites. Their grievance is the loss of an idealized past social order where their in-group dominated; their scapegoats are immigrants, minorities, and the progressive forces accused of empowering those out-groups. This worldview is remarkably consistent whether voiced by a MAGA supporter in rural America, an AfD voter in eastern Germany, or a British nationalist at a “Unite the Kingdom” rally in London. And it is a worldview on the offensive: far-right adherents increasingly talk of “civilizational war” or a coming conflict to take their countries back. As the next sections will show, they are forging unexpected alliances to advance this fight, even reaching out to unlikely bedfellows like Zionists in Israel and Hindu nationalists in India.
Islamophobia and the Alliance with Zionism: Strange Bedfellows
One of the most paradoxical features of today’s far right is its collaboration with right-wing Zionists and the state of Israel – a development that might seem ironic given the far right’s history of virulent antisemitism. Yet the shared Islamophobia and shared authoritarian worldview have led to an “unholy alliance”. European and American far-right leaders have increasingly professed support for Israel and aligned themselves with Israel’s hard-line policies, using this as a shield against accusations of antisemitism and as a way to emphasize their anti-Muslim bona fides. For instance, France’s Marine Le Pen publicly shifted her National Rally party to endorse Israel in 2011 as part of a dedicated strategy to whitewash the party’s antisemitic reputation and “reassure the Israeli authorities”. Her deputy even traveled to Israel to court French-Jewish voters, a stark contrast to the party’s origins under her father (Jean-Marie Le Pen, a Holocaust denier). Likewise, Geert Wilders in the Netherlands, Italy’s Matteo Salvini, Austria’s Freedom Party, and Germany’s AfD have all wrapped themselves in the Israeli flag at times. They portray Israel as the front-line defender of Western civilization against Islamist terrorism – a convenient talking point for their anti-Muslim narrative. As one Israeli analyst cynically observed, “You can hate the Jews and love the Israelis because in a way the Israelis are not Jews. The Israelis are colonists and warriors”. In other words, far-right admirers selectively appreciate Israel’s militaristic ethno-nationalism while continuing to harbor prejudice against diaspora Jewish communities or “globalist” Jews.
At the highest levels, Israel’s right-wing government under Benjamin Netanyahu has eagerly embraced far-right support. Netanyahu and his allies have forged friendships with some of Europe’s most extreme nationalist leaders, even those with openly antisemitic or neo-Nazi ties, because they share anti-Muslim, anti-Iran, and anti-globalist stances. Hungary’s Viktor Orbán is a case in point: he cultivated a cozy relationship with Netanyahu’s Israel despite stoking antisemitic tropes about George Soros at home. Poland’s nationalist government received Israeli outreach even as it passed laws whitewashing Polish complicity in the Holocaust. The Israeli government has shown willingness to ignore Holocaust revisionism and racist politics in Europe so long as those leaders back Israel’s diplomatic positions. Observers note that Netanyahu has “countless allies on the far right, neo-fascists, often Holocaust deniers or Third Reich admirers” across Austria, Poland, and beyond. In 2018, for example, Netanyahu’s government initiated talks with the Alliance for the Unity of Romanians – a party that venerates WWII dictator Ion Antonescu, who sent 400,000 Jews to their deaths. This realpolitik follows a long Zionist tradition of seeking tactical alliances with anti-Jewish forces for geopolitical gain, dating back to Zionist dealings with European anti-Semites and even apartheid South Africa (another regime that Israel armed and allied with, despite its Nazi-sympathizing elements). The Israeli far right itself has grown under Netanyahu; his current governing coalition includes ultra-nationalist and ultra religious parties whose leaders have trafficked in anti-Arab racism and talk of annexing Palestinian lands outright. The convergence is clear: Israel’s ruling right sees common cause with Western Islamophobes in targeting Muslims (whether Palestinian, Syrian, or Iranian) and in undermining liberal international norms that constrain aggressive nationalism.
To be sure, not all on the far right have shed antisemitism. White supremacist and neo-Nazi factions still promulgate classic Jew-hatred alongside Islamophobia. In the United States, the 2017 Charlottesville rally chants of “Jews will not replace us” underscored that the old hatreds remaing. And in Europe, some far-right elements still engage in Holocaust denial or Soros-centered conspiracy theories. However, these groups often find themselves in uneasy coalition with right-wing Zionists and Christian Zionists who are staunchly pro-Israel. The result is a bizarre tableau: at an anti-Muslim rally or online forum one might see hardcore antisemites and Jewish Defense League activists effectively on the same side, united by their greater hostility toward Islam. Truthout reported one instance in the U.S. where “the spectacle of right-wing Zionists in the street with Holocaust deniers” came to pass at an anti-Sharia demonstration. Similarly, in Canada, Toronto rallies against “Islamization” have seen Jewish Defense League members and even Hindu nationalist activists marching shoulder to shoulder with Soldiers of Odin, a Finnish neo-Nazi-linked vigilante group. This underscores how Islamophobia serves as a bridging hatred – diverse factions (including some individuals who are Jewish, gay, or non-white) feel it is acceptable to join a campaign against Islam, whereas they might never associate with an explicitly neo-Nazi gathering.
The far right’s “handling” of antisemitism, therefore, is often to downplay or sublimate it rather than truly eliminate it. They cynically weaponize accusations of antisemitism against their left-wing or Muslim opponents while tolerating or quietly excusing antisemitism within their own ranks. For example, European populists loudly condemn antisemitism when they can pin it on Muslim immigrants or on the left (claiming, for instance, that pro-Palestinian leftists are the “real anti-Semites”). This has led to surreal scenes like France’s National Rally marching in “anti-antisemitism” rallies in 2023 alongside Jewish extremist groups, as the French government and media normalized Le Pen’s presence and painted the left as the antisemitic element for criticizing Israel. The far-right participants waved Israeli flags during the march, deliberately conflating support for Israel with opposition to Jew-hatred. Yet the historic record of these far-right parties is deeply antisemitic – Le Pen’s own father or the Austrian Freedom Party’s founders were Nazi collaborators. The whitewashing is opportunistic. In private, many far-right supporters still swap in-group antisemitic memes (for instance, Hungary’s Orbán circles vilifying “cosmopolitan financiers” or Trumpist forums peddling George Soros conspiracies), but in public, they claim to be champions against antisemitism by virtue of backing Israel’s nationalist policies. As one commentary put it, the Israeli government’s stance effectively suggests that “hatred of Jews is no longer to be associated with [these far-right parties]… henceforth, it is pretended that antisemitism comes primarily from the left or from Muslim communities”, allowing the far right to be “whitewashed” by its support for Israel.
This alliance is incredibly cynical but mutually beneficial. The far right gets to deflect charges of neo-Nazi sympathy by pointing to its pro-Israel stance, and it gains a fig leaf of respectability (e.g. photo-ops in Jerusalem, or Evangelical Christian endorsements for “defending Israel”). Israel’s right wing, in turn, gains fervent political support in Western capitals, helping shield it from human-rights criticism. It also reinforces the narrative that Israel is an integral part of a broader “Judeo-Christian” front against Islamic terrorism and left-wing radicalism. Even in the United States, the far right around Trump aligned tightly with the most hardline pro-Israel positions: moving the U.S. embassy to Jerusalem, giving carte blanche to Israeli settlement expansion, and demonizing Palestinians on the world stage. Trump’s administration (with advisors like Steve Bannon) cultivated both Christian Zionist allies and alt-right fellow travelers. The convergence of interests was encapsulated when Trump’s White House hosted European nationalist leaders and applauded figures like Britain’s UKIP or Italy’s League, implicitly tying together their causes. American alt-right influencers themselves are split on the issue of antisemitism versus Zionism – some openly admire Hitler or indulge Holocaust denial, while others like Stephen Bannon praise nationalist leaders abroad such as India’s Narendra Modi or Israel’s Netanyahu as kindred spirits. Overall, the direction of travel is clear: Islamophobia has provided the common ground for cooperation, and antisemitism is something the far right believes it can either quietly compartmentalize or rhetorically condemn in others while not fully purging it internally. This double game makes the far-right movement no less dangerous – arguably more so, because it broadens their appeal and alliances. By teaming up with Zionists and claiming to protect Jews from Islamists or leftists, fascists are repackaging themselves as defenders of Western civilization, even as traditional neo-fascist bigotry festers under the surface.
Global Networks of Hate: Hindutva and the Transnational Far Right
The far right’s alliances extend beyond the West and Israel. A striking case is its alignment with Hindutva – the right-wing Hindu nationalist movement in India championed by the ruling Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP) and its parent organization, the Rashtriya Swayamsevak Sangh (RSS). At first glance, one might not expect white European racists or Christian nationalists to find common cause with Hindu supremacists. Yet, Hindutva and Western far-right ideologues share a deep Islamophobia, a majoritarian concept of nationhood, and a disdain for liberal pluralism, which has led to growing solidarity between them. The BJP under Prime Minister Narendra Modi has pursued an openly Hindu-first agenda in India, marginalizing the country’s 200 million Muslims and other minorities. This has drawn admiration from Western ultranationalists who view Modi’s India as a model of how to reassert ethnoreligious dominance. Notably, former Trump advisor Steve Bannon enthusiastically praised Modi, calling him “a nationalist… a Trump before Trump,” lauding Modi’s slogan of putting India’s interests first. Bannon even cultivated ties with the Republican Hindu Coalition in the U.S., seeing Indian-American Hindu nationalists as allies in the fight against both Islam and China. Under Bannon’s influence, right-wing American media began casting Modi’s India as a fellow warrior in a global battle against Islam and left-wing “globalists.”
Ideologically, Hindu nationalists and Western white supremacists have drawn parallels between each other’s narratives. Hindutva ideologues assert that India is fundamentally a Hindu nation (much as European far-right claim their countries are inherently Christian or white-majority) and that Muslims and Christians in India are outsiders or traitors. The RSS, founded in 1925, was notably influenced by fascist movements in Europe; it admired Adolf Hitler’s treatment of the Jews as a model for dealing with Muslims in India. That chilling historical detail is often overlooked: the RSS’s early leaders explicitly saw Nazi racial pride as inspiration, even as they constructed a myth of Hindu Aryan identity in opposition to Muslims. Today, the BJP government and its allies have mainstreamed anti-Muslim policies (from revoking Kashmir’s autonomy and passing discriminatory citizenship laws to tacitly encouraging mob violence against Muslim communities). These actions resonate with Western far-right narratives of getting “tough” on Islam. Hindu nationalist influencers on social media now circulate Islamophobic conspiracy theories globally, and during crises like the Israel–Hamas war of 2023, they disseminated disinformation demonizing Palestinians and celebrating Israeli military actions. An analysis by GNET in November 2023 found “substantial evidence of disinformation campaigns originating from India…sharing fake posts targeting Palestine and supporting Israel” as part of a broader Islamophobic propaganda effort. Verified Indian right-wing accounts spread fabricated stories (e.g. Hamas fighters enslaving Israeli girls – a falsehood that went viral) and used the war as justification to call for violence against Muslims in India. This showcases how Hindutva activists view the conflict through a shared Islamophobic lens with Israel and Western Islamophobes: to them, it’s one continuous battle against the global Muslim “enemy,” whether in Gaza or Kashmir or London. Indeed, Hindu right-wing commentators frequently extol Israel’s harsh measures in Gaza and argue India should adopt similar tactics in Kashmir or against Indian Muslims. The BJP’s tight embrace of Israel – India is now Israel’s largest arms customer, and Modi was the first Indian PM to visit Israel – has cemented this axis. In public, Hindu nationalist groups trumpet their “unconditional support for Israel”, with pro-Israel hashtags trending in India’s Twittersphere during conflicts.
The alignment is not merely rhetorical. There are organizational and diaspora linkages facilitating a Hindutva-Western far-right synergy. Diaspora Hindu nationalist groups in the U.S., UK, and Canada (sometimes dubbed the “American Sangh”) have forged alliances with right-wing parties and figures in those countries. In the U.S., Hindu right activists courted the Trump campaign, donated money, and even held rallies (famously, a 2016 event in New Jersey called “Trump’s Abki Baar” – mimicking Modi’s slogan – which featured Trump lighting a Hindu diya and pledging friendship with India). Far-right American politicians have reciprocated: e.g. Republican lawmakers formed the “Hindu Caucus” and echoed BJP talking points on Pakistan and Islamic terrorism. The ideological bridge is often anti-Islamic sentiment: for instance, when some American universities hosted conferences critical of Hindutva in 2021, U.S. far-right media joined Hindu groups in attacking the conferences as “Hinduphobic,” borrowing the style of accusations used to silence critics of Israel by calling them antisemitic. This tactic was explicitly noted: Hindutva groups adopt the model of “silencing criticism perfected by Zionists,” claiming that all criticism of Modi’s regime is “Hinduphobia,” just as pro-Israel lobbies label Israel’s critics as anti-Semites. The convergence of communications strategies underlines a learning and cooperation between these right-wing movements.
On the ground, Hindutva and Western far-right actors sometimes literally appear together. In September 2025, London saw one of the UK’s largest-ever far-right demonstrations, organized by anti-Muslim agitator Tommy Robinson and drawing over 100,000 protesters under the banner “Unite the Kingdom”. Amid the sea of Union Jacks and St. George’s crosses, observers noted that many demonstrators were waving U.S. and Israeli flags, and some wore Trump’s red “MAGA” hats. It was a symbolic display of an international far-right fraternity. Tellingly, among the featured speakers addressing the London crowd (in person or via video link) were French far-right polemicist Éric Zemmour, a German AfD representative – and Elon Musk. But also present was an Indian BJP official: Petr Bystron, an AfD MP of Czech origin, introduced messages aligning with Hindu nationalist sentiments, and numerous Indian Hindu right-wing activists were spotted in the crowd. (Elon Musk, for his part, praised the rally and echoed Great Replacement rhetoric, claiming Britain was being destroyed by “massive uncontrolled migration”.) This cross-pollination shows that far-right movements view each other as allies in a global struggle. From the perspective of a Hindutva hardliner, the nationalist populists in the West are partners who likewise oppose Islam and liberal multiculturalism. From the perspective of Western white nationalists, the Hindu right in India provides validation that “taking our country back” with majoritarian politics can be successful. Both also share a transactional admiration for authoritarian strongmen. It is no accident that Modi, Trump, Netanyahu – and even Russia’s Vladimir Putin and China’s Xi Jinping – have been complimented by far-right leaders as models of “strength” against the liberal order.
In sum, the global far right is coalescing into a loose network or at least a mutually reinforcing ecosystem. Islamophobia is the connective tissue linking a Hindu vigilante in Delhi to a white supremacist in Texas or a identarian activist in Austria. They amplify each other’s propaganda online, celebrate each other’s victories (e.g. Modi’s re-election or Trump’s policies), and learn from each other’s tactics. Hindu nationalists have even adopted memes from the Western alt-right, while Western extremists circulate RSS slogans about Muslims. This underscores that the far right’s “war” is not confined within national borders. They increasingly view it as a clash of civilizations or a worldwide cultural war – essentially pitting a supposed alliance of nationalist, ethnically “pure” states (the U.S., Europe, Israel, India, Russia, etc., each dominated by the majority religion/ethnicity) against a common array of perceived enemies: Muslim countries, immigrants, leftists, and global institutions. In this worldview, liberal notions of universal human rights or secular multicultural states are obstacles to be torn down. The next section examines how this mentality is undermining the international order, as far-right influence translates into aggressive policies on the world stage.
Undermining the World Order: From the Middle East to a Global Showdown
The rise of far-right and ultra-nationalist ideologies in major powers has begun to destabilize the post-World War II international order, which was built on the sanctity of nation-state sovereignty, multilateral conflict resolution, and at least a rhetorical commitment to universal rights. We now see those principles eroding, as far-right-influenced regimes pursue militaristic and unilateralist agendas. Nowhere is this more evident than in the broader Middle East, where a series of conflicts in the past decade reveals a pattern: nation states being attacked or undermined with impunity, often in pursuit of sectarian or ideological goals aligned with the far-right worldview. Syria, Lebanon, Iran, Yemen – and now even Qatar – have all been targeted in ways that flout international norms and threaten to spark wider war. These attacks are frequently justified in the name of fighting Islamism or terrorism, but they cumulatively suggest an emerging “might makes right” doctrine, championed by far-right hawks and their allies.
Consider Syria, which since 2011 has suffered a devastating civil war that became a proxy battleground for regional and global powers. Early in the war, far-right voices in the West cheered on maximalist interventions, framing the conflict in Huntington-esque “clash of civilizations” terms – Assad’s Alawite regime and its Shiite allies vs. Sunni jihadists – with little regard for Syrian sovereignty. While the situation was complex, what’s clear is that foreign powers have repeatedly violated Syrian territory: from U.S. airstrikes and a persistent illegal U.S. troop presence in Syria’s east, to Turkey’s incursions against Kurdish areas, to hundreds of Israeli airstrikes on Syrian soil targeting Iranian and Hezbollah assets. The Israeli strikes, in particular, increased substantially under Netanyahu’s leadership, reflecting his alignment with a hardline anti-Iran posture. These actions erode the norm that sovereign countries shouldn’t be bombed at will. Israel has bombed Syria with near-total impunity, rarely condemned by Western governments. Far-right commentators in Israel and the U.S. portray these operations as a heroic campaign against Iran and jihadism, ignoring that they also violate international law and Syrian sovereignty. Syria’s dismemberment – parts occupied by Turkey, the U.S., or jihadist rebels – has been tacitly accepted, a dangerous precedent that borders can be redrawn by force if one side is sufficiently demonized (in this case, Assad and Islamist militants each demonizing the other).
A similar story is playing out with Lebanon and Iran, long targets of Israeli and Western far-right ire. Iran, in particular, is viewed by the far right in the U.S. and Israel as an arch-enemy – an “Islamic” republic that must be isolated or even overthrown. Under Trump’s administration, influenced by far-right advisors, the U.S. withdrew from the Iran nuclear deal and pursued a brinksmanship strategy, including the assassination of Iran’s General Qasem Soleimani in 2020. Israel’s Netanyahu openly threatens military strikes on Iran’s nuclear facilities, acts that could trigger full-scale war. Indeed, Netanyahu’s current stance has become even more hawkish: he has at times edged close to launching unilateral strikes, held back mainly by U.S. caution. In one recent incident that speaks volumes, Netanyahu authorized a covert Israeli strike on a meeting of Hamas officials in Doha, Qatar – a sovereign state and U.S. ally – killing individuals on Qatari soil. This extraordinary violation, which took place in September 2025, prompted Qatar to condemn Israel’s “criminal attack [as] a blatant violation of all international laws and norms”, noting it “poses a serious threat to the security and safety of the State of Qatar”. Undeterred, Netanyahu threatened to launch further attacks on Qatar if it did not expel Hamas’s political representatives. Such behavior – bombing a neutral third country’s capital – indicates how far the norms of state sovereignty have frayed. It is almost unimaginable in earlier decades for a nation to strike another friendly nation without international uproar. But Netanyahu, emboldened by far-right confidence and a sense of civilizational mission, is ready to cross those lines. (Notably, even President Trump, back in office in 2025, reportedly told Netanyahu such an attack “does not advance Israel or America’s goals”, highlighting a rift between traditional realpolitik and Netanyahu’s new far-right brazenness.)
Elsewhere in the region, Yemen has been the scene of one of the decade’s worst humanitarian catastrophes, fueled by an intervention that similarly disregards international humanitarian law. Since 2015, a Saudi Arabia-led coalition (backed by the UAE and with arms and logistical support from the U.S. and UK) has waged war on Yemen’s Houthi movement, ostensibly to restore Yemen’s internationally recognized government. In practice, the war has indiscriminately bombed civilians and infrastructure, leading the United Nations to label Yemen the world’s worst humanitarian crisis. Far-right politics don’t solely drive the Yemen war – it involves sectarian rivalry (Sunni Saudi vs. Shia-linked Houthis) and geopolitics – but Western far-right figures have largely either ignored the suffering or justified the war as necessary against “Iranian proxies.” The Trump administration, influenced by hawks and Islamophobes, eagerly supplied the Saudi coalition with weapons despite mounting atrocities. According to Oxfam and other reports, hundreds of airstrikes on civilians were carried out using U.S. and U.K.-supplied weapons in recent years. At least 87 Yemeni civilians were killed by coalition airstrikes with Western-made bombs in a single 14-month period. These strikes hit weddings, school buses, hospitals – clear war crimes – yet accountability has been absent. The far-right worldview dehumanizes the predominantly Muslim Yemeni victims and frames the war as a bulwark against Iran’s influence. Thus, Western far-right politicians (who often posture as “pro-life” and “law and order” at home) raised no objection to the illegal siege and bombing of Yemen, with some even encouraging more belligerence toward Iran in Yemen and beyond. The moral and legal norms meant to protect civilians in war have been systematically eroded, a chilling portent if the far right gains more power.
All these conflicts – Syria’s endless war, Yemen’s carnage, potential strikes on Iran, and now Qatar in the crosshairs – suggest that the international order of sovereign nation-states is being undermined by a new norm of unconstrained aggression. Far-right and ultra-nationalist leaders, whether in Washington, Jerusalem, Riyadh, Moscow, or New Delhi, increasingly act in defiance of multilateral institutions like the UN. They either bypass the UN Security Council or manipulate it (as Russia did using its veto to shield Syria, or the U.S. did to shield Israel). The idea of a rules-based order is hollowed out when great or regional powers simply pursue raw power aims. The result is a fragmented world where might is right – precisely the kind of world that fascists and authoritarians crave. In such a world, vulnerable states become pawns or victims. Syria and Yemen’s destruction shows how easily states can be fractured when international law is discarded. Even relatively stable countries like Qatar can find themselves attacked or coerced if they displease a more powerful neighbor’s far-right regime. (Qatar’s independent line – hosting Palestinian leaders and Al Jazeera, maintaining ties with Iran – earned it the wrath of both Saudi-UAE bloc and Israel’s right wing. In 2017, Qatar was subjected to a harsh blockade by Saudi and UAE, another act of aggression short of war. Now in 2025, actual Israeli military strikes have occurred.)
The targets are often Muslim-majority nations or groups, which is consistent with the far-right’s Islamophobic animus. But it’s not only Muslim nations – the far-right mindset also encourages undermining any “globalist” or leftist government that doesn’t fit into their desired world alignment. For example, far-right pundits in the U.S. have agitated against socialist-led Venezuela or Cuba, calling for intervention. In Europe, far-right parties oppose the EU and favor a breakdown of multinational governance frameworks. The common theme is a drive to break down the cooperative order of nation-states and replace it with a might-makes-right order dominated by ethno-nationalist strongmen.
To many in the Muslim world and the Global South, it appears that the West’s far-right turn has translated into a renewed assault on their sovereignty and rights. The pattern of Western or regional powers attacking countries like Syria, Yemen, or threatening Iran and Qatar, is seen as proof that the old colonial and imperialist attitudes never died – they are simply re-emerging in nationalist clothing. This perception has profound implications: it is fostering new alignments and resistance, as we discuss next. The bottom line is that “war is upon us” in a very literal sense in several theaters, and in a broader sense as a clash of ideologies. The far right has shown it will use violence or support wars to achieve its ends, be it regime change, ethnic dominance, or suppression of ideological rivals. We are entering an era where the guardrails that prevented great-power conflict and protected smaller nations are being dismantled, and that raises the risk of a much wider conflagration.
Responses from the Islamic World: Condemnation, Resistance, and Soul-Searching
Faced with the rising tide of far-right hostility – Islamophobic rhetoric, discriminatory policies, and even military aggression – the Islamic world has been mounting a range of responses. These responses span official diplomatic initiatives by Muslim-majority countries, statements and actions by multilateral bodies like the Organization of Islamic Cooperation (OIC), as well as grassroots reactions among Muslim communities worldwide. While diverse in approach, they share a common recognition: the surge of far-right fascism and its attendant “war” on Muslims and non-whites poses an existential threat that cannot be ignored.
At the diplomatic level, Muslim-majority nations have increasingly coordinated to raise awareness of Islamophobia and to push back against actions seen as targeting Muslim communities. A landmark achievement was the designation of March 15 as the International Day to Combat Islamophobia by the United Nations, a resolution introduced by Pakistan on behalf of the OIC and adopted by consensus in 2022. This date (March 15) commemorates the Christchurch mosque massacre in New Zealand (March 2019) and serves as a call for global action against anti-Muslim hate. On March 15, 2025, UN Secretary-General António Guterres marked the day by warning of “a disturbing rise in anti-Muslim bigotry” worldwide and urged governments to protect Muslim communities’ rights and safety. Guterres explicitly linked the spike in Islamophobia to recent events – he noted record levels of anti-Muslim hate incidents in Western countries and a rise in anti-Arab bias since the start of Israel’s war in Gaza. This was a diplomatic way of calling out how far-right narratives during conflicts (like painting all Palestinians as terrorists) have spilled over into attacks on ordinary Muslims globally. The UN chief’s message, amplified by Muslim nations, is that Islamophobia is part of a “wider scourge of intolerance” that must be confronted alongside antisemitism and other hatreds. Such high-profile recognition is one response: essentially, naming and shaming the problem on the world stage.
The Organization of Islamic Cooperation, which represents 57 Muslim-majority countries, has been vocal in condemning specific far-right provocations. For instance, when far-right activists in Europe staged Quran-burning stunts (as happened in Sweden and Denmark multiple times in 2023), the OIC convened emergency sessions and issued strongly worded resolutions. The OIC “condemned in the strongest terms the vile act of burning the Holy Quran by far-right activists”, calling on the European authorities to take action against the perpetrators and prevent such hate crimes. The OIC even temporarily suspended Sweden’s observer status and urged collective measures among Muslim states, reflecting the anger on this issue. This diplomatic pressure had some effect: both Sweden and Denmark began exploring legal ways to curb Quran desecrations, acknowledging the damage to their relations with the Muslim world. In a broader sense, the Islamic response has been to urge respect for religious symbols and to demand that Western governments crack down on the Islamophobic far right in their midst. Muslim leaders often point out a double standard: many Western nations outlaw antisemitic speech or Nazi symbols (given Europe’s history), yet some have been lax about equally virulent anti-Muslim hate speech, considering it “free expression.” The Islamic world’s diplomats are pushing to change that, insisting that anti-Muslim incitement be treated as seriously as other forms of hate. This aligns with the UN Human Rights Council’s stance as well, which has warned that Islamophobia has reached “alarming levels” and urged states to combat it through law and education.
Beyond officialdom, Muslim-majority countries have also been repositioning themselves strategically in response to far-right influenced geopolitics. For example, as Western powers became more openly biased (in the eyes of Muslims) in favor of Israel during conflicts, countries like Turkey, Malaysia, Qatar, and Pakistan have taken upon themselves to champion the Palestinian cause and broader Muslim solidarity. Turkey’s President Recep Tayyip Erdoğan – has styled himself as a defender of Muslims internationally, blasting European Islamophobia and rallying support for Palestinians and Rohingya. After a series of Islamophobic incidents or policies (like France’s blasphemy disputes or India’s Kashmir revocation), Turkey and Pakistan even launched a joint initiative a few years back to create a BBC-like media channel to counter Islamophobic narratives (though it hasn’t materialized fully). Qatar, despite being tiny, leveraged its influential media (Al Jazeera) and diplomatic clout to mediate conflicts and publicize Muslim grievances. During the 2023 Gaza war, Doha hosted summits of Muslim leaders to forge a unified stance against Israeli military excesses. The fact that Israel struck in Doha in 2025, as noted, was partly because Qatar refused to bow to far-right Israeli ultimatums regarding Hamas – a testament to its courage but also a sign of how volatile things have become.
On the ideological front, there is also an “Islamic response” in terms of religious and intellectual discourse. Muslim scholars and activists have been working to counter extremist narratives (both those of jihadi militants and those of far-right Islamophobes) by emphasizing Islam’s compatibility with modern pluralism and by protecting vulnerable Muslim youth from radicalization. This is important: the far right wants a “war of civilizations” and would be thrilled if more Muslims turn to extremist violence, as it would justify their narrative. The mainstream Muslim response, therefore, has been to double down on the message that their fight is with extremism and injustice, not against other faiths. The Grand Imam of Al-Azhar and the Pope, for instance, signed a fraternity document in 2019 promoting Christian-Muslim peace, implicitly rebuking both Islamist and far-right hate.
That said, there is a strain of more militant response within parts of the Muslim world – essentially, a readiness to physically resist what is seen as an onslaught. This is most evident among the so-called “Axis of Resistance” which includes Iran, the Syrian government, Hezbollah in Lebanon, and allied militias. These groups frame their struggle explicitly as resisting American/Zionist imperialism, thus positioning themselves against Western far-right aggression and Sunni fundamentalism (like ISIS). Iran’s leadership, under intense sanctions and threats, has sought closer ties with non-Western powers (China, Russia) to counter Western far-right pressure. Iran also provides support (material and ideological) to movements fighting Israel and Saudi influence. While controversial, these are indeed responses that complicate the far-right’s plans – for example, Hezbollah’s deterrent rockets make an Israeli war on Lebanon costly, and Iran’s drone and missile capabilities raise the stakes of attacking it. One could say the Islamic world’s response ranges from diplomacy to deterrence: trying to use international law and forums to restrain far-right aggression, but also, in some cases, preparing militarily and forming alternative alliances (e.g. stronger Muslim-China/Russia ties) to survive a potential wider conflict.
Finally, on the grassroots level within Muslim communities worldwide, there’s been a significant mobilization. In Western countries, Muslim civil rights groups like the Council on American-Islamic Relations (CAIR) in the U.S. or Muslim Council of Britain have been documenting hate crimes, suing governments over discriminatory laws, and building coalitions with other minorities and liberal allies. Notably, CAIR’s latest report recorded the highest number of anti-Muslim incidents in the U.S. on record, over 8,600 in 2022, a 7.5% rise, and Muslims are responding by engaging politically and legally. Large public protests have erupted whenever far-right policies emerge – for instance, mass demonstrations by British Muslims and anti-racists against a proposed “Muslim ban” or against Tommy Robinson’s rallies; huge rallies in American cities against the Trump travel ban on several Muslim-majority countries in 2017; and continuing protests in India by Muslims (and secular Hindus) against the BJP’s anti-minority laws. This grassroots activism often involves intersectional solidarity: Muslims joining with immigrants’ rights groups, Black Lives Matter activists, Jewish anti-fascists, and others who oppose the far right. While these efforts face an uphill battle against well-funded right-wing propaganda, they represent the soul of the Muslim response: a refusal to be cowed, a determination to stand up for justice and dignity.
In summary, the Islamic world’s response to the far-right onslaught is multifaceted: diplomacy and advocacy to highlight Islamophobia, solidarity and occasional realpolitik in international affairs, and grassroots organizing and protest. There is also introspection – many Muslims are asking how to better communicate their realities to a Western public swayed by fearmongers, and how to uphold Islamic ideals of patience and wisdom under provocation. Importantly, this is not a monolithic response; some Muslim-majority governments (like Saudi Arabia, which has its own ultra-conservative strain) have awkwardly cooperated with Western far-right agendas against Iran or the Muslim Brotherhood, showing the complexity of “Muslim” responses. But by and large, the trend is one of increased unity among diverse Muslim communities in the face of external hostility. As the saying popular in protests goes: “No matter how much they try to divide us, the Ummah (global Muslim community) will unite against hate.”
The Global South Fights Back: Non-Aligned Countries and Emerging Coalitions
It is not only the Islamic world that is reacting. A broader swath of non-aligned countries – essentially the Global South and emerging powers not firmly in the Western camp – have also taken notice of the far-right tide and are formulating their responses. Many of these countries (in Africa, Asia, and Latin America) sense that the far-right surge in the West threatens a return to colonial-era attitudes and great-power domination, and they are increasingly asserting an independent stance. The old Non-Aligned Movement (NAM), founded in the Cold War to avoid siding with either the U.S. or Soviet bloc, is seeing a kind of revival in spirit. Nations like India (ironically led by its own right-wing government), along with China, Russia, South Africa, Brazil, and others, are championing a “multipolar world order” as an alternative to what they perceive as a Western (and increasingly far-right-tinged) hegemon.
One concrete manifestation was how many Global South countries responded to the Ukraine war versus the Gaza war. When Russia invaded Ukraine in 2022, Western nations expected universal condemnation; instead, large democracies like India, Brazil, and South Africa abstained or refused to join sanctions, seeing Western hypocrisy in suddenly caring about sovereignty after decades of Iraq, Libya, and others. These countries – not aligned with the West – are carving out space to say no to Western double standards. During Israel’s war on Gaza (2023), for instance, much of the Global South (including NAM members) loudly criticized Israel’s bombardment and the West’s shielding of Israel, even as Western far-right voices egged Israel on. At the UN in late 2023, 120 non-aligned countries voted for a humanitarian ceasefire in Gaza, defying the US and Europe. This indicates a willingness of non-aligned states to stand up to far-right-backed aggression diplomatically.
Non-aligned governments are also strengthening South-South alliances to reduce dependency on the West. The BRICS group (Brazil, Russia, India, China, South Africa) has expanded to include new members like Saudi Arabia, Iran, Egypt, and others – a significant development that brings together key Global South and Muslim-majority players. Part of the rationale is to create financial and political mechanisms (like alternative trade systems or development banks) so they are less vulnerable to Western pressure or sanctions, which often come when far-right elements in the West push unilateral punitive policies. For instance, Iran under sanctions turned to NAM friends and found support; in 2023, China brokered a normalization between Iran and Saudi Arabia – an outcome that the U.S. far-right foreign policy did not achieve, but a non-aligned approach did. This hints that the Global South is pursuing conflict resolution and cooperation on its own terms, bypassing Western frameworks that they feel have been hijacked by neoconservative or far-right interests.
On the ideological front, non-aligned intellectuals and leaders frequently call out Western far-right trends as part of a broader critique of Western hypocrisy. They note how Western nations preach democracy yet tolerate or elect far-right demagogues who undermine democracy; how they extoll human rights yet arm regimes that bomb civilians (as in Yemen or Gaza); how they decry “authoritarianism” abroad but cultivate it at home under populist leaders. Such critiques are sharpening, as many Global South populations feel that the Western-led order is losing moral legitimacy. They argue for a new order based on genuine respect for sovereignty, cultural pluralism, and economic justice – essentially a rebuke to both neoliberal globalization and far-right ultranationalism.
Some non-aligned countries with significant influence – notably China and Russia – have their own agendas, of course, and cannot be idealized as altruistic. China’s government, for example, positions itself against Western hegemony and far-right racism (often reminding the world about U.S. racism or Europe’s colonial past), yet it has its own Han-centric nationalism and repression of Muslim Uyghurs. Russia’s regime rails against Western fascists even as it courts Europe’s far right when useful. Nonetheless, in the geopolitical chessboard, China and Russia often provide diplomatic cover for countries targeted by Western far-right hawks (for example, vetoing extreme UN Security Council measures on Syria or shielding Venezuela from regime change). This creates a counter-weight: non-aligned countries can sometimes turn to these powers for support. We saw this when Venezuela, Cuba, Iran, and Syria deepened ties with China/Russia to survive Western pressure.
Within forums like the G77 (group of 134 developing nations at the UN) and NAM, there is a consistent refrain: the international community must adhere to the UN Charter, respect each nation’s sovereignty, and work through dialogue, not force. These principles are intentionally invoked to contrast with the perceived behavior of far-right-influenced Western policies (which are seen as unilateral, bullying, and disrespectful of sovereign equality). For example, when the U.S. under Trump cut off funding to international bodies, withdrew from climate agreements, recognized illegal annexations (Jerusalem, Golan), etc., the G77 and NAM statements strongly objected, reaffirming multilateralism. In effect, the non-aligned response is to double down on multilateral cooperation and to attempt to isolate the far-right worldview as rogue and dangerous.
One poignant illustration: at the NAM summit in 2012, amid the Syria crisis, Iran’s Supreme Leader told assembled delegates that “the NAM has more right than NATO or the West to resolve Syria’s conflict”, explicitly framing the non-aligned movement as a more legitimate peace-broker than Western interventionists. While NAM couldn’t directly end that war, the sentiment resonates – today, we see Global South mediation efforts stepping in where Western efforts fail or are biased (e.g. Turkey and UN mediating grain deals in Ukraine, Qatar mediating hostage deals between Hamas and Israel). The competence and neutrality of some non-aligned actors in conflict resolution is gaining recognition. This is a subtle but important response: proving that a rules-based, multipolar order can address issues more fairly than a far-right-influenced unipolar order.
In summary, the non-aligned countries’ response to the global far-right rise has been to quietly, and sometimes not so quietly, build an alternative pole of influence. They reject the far-right’s vision of a polarized clash and instead promote principles of non-interference, respect for diversity, and collective problem-solving. Whether through revitalizing NAM’s ideals or expanding new coalitions like BRICS, the Global South is effectively saying: we will not be pawns in a new Cold War or “civilizational” war; we will chart our own path. The challenge ahead is whether this emerging multipolar solidarity can hold firm and check the excesses of the far right. But the resolve is evident – at the UN and other forums, the votes and voices of the majority of humanity now often diverge from the West, especially when issues of racial justice, Palestine, or unilateral sanctions come up. The far right’s ascendancy in the West thus faces a counterbalance: the rising confidence of non-Western nations who insist on a more equitable international order. This dynamic will shape the next phase of global politics and could prove pivotal in preventing the worst outcomes of far-right aggression.
Grassroots Resistance: Antifascists, Liberals, and the Power of the People
Even as governments and international blocs respond, ordinary citizens and grassroots movements worldwide are also mobilizing to counter the far-right tide. In many ways, this is a continuation of the long struggle against fascism and racism that has been fought from the streets and community halls, not just in parliaments. Civil society – encompassing activists, NGOs, community leaders, students, workers, artists, and concerned individuals – is rising to the challenge with a sense of urgency. They recognize that this is not a normal policy debate but a battle for the soul of societies. As the saying goes, “It’s no longer time to talk; action is required.”
One of the most heartening developments has been mass protests and demonstrations against far-right extremism. Across Europe and the Americas, whenever the far right tries to stage large rallies or push extremist policies, counter-movements have brought people into the streets in impressive numbers. For example, in Germany, as the AfD’s xenophobic rhetoric intensified, so too did public backlash. In January 2024, over 100,000 Germans in about 100 towns and cities turned out to protest the AfD’s agenda of mass deportations. These protests, under banners like “Defend democracy” and “Stop the AfD,” were not fringe leftists but broad coalitions – families, trade unionists, church groups, even football club fan organizations and conservative Merkel-era politicians united in saying Nein to fascism. German society’s memory of Nazi rule has helped create a strong reflex: the moment the far right crosses certain lines (such as talking about deporting German citizens of immigrant origin), a red line is triggered and ordinary people mobilize en masse. This is crucial; it shows far-right normalization can be resisted by making clear they are attacking “all of us” (as Chancellor Olaf Scholz said in joining an anti-AfD rally).
In the United Kingdom, as noted earlier, the far-right “Unite the Kingdom” march in 2025 drew an alarming 110,000, but it also sparked a sizable counter-protest of around 5,000 anti-racists that bravely stood their ground. Anti-fascist organizations like Stand Up To Racism, Hope Not Hate, and Unite Against Fascism have been working at the grassroots for years, engaging in both protest and education. They connect the dots for the public – for instance, pointing out that Nigel Farage’s Reform UK rhetoric about “Muslims not sharing British culture” is classic Islamophobia that must be confronted. These groups often include a broad alliance: left-wing activists, liberal democrats, trade unions, faith leaders, and sometimes even moderate conservatives who reject fascism. The presence of “anti-hate” rallies and vigils whenever there’s an anti-immigrant incident (like the outpouring of support for refugees after far-right attacks on migrant hotels) demonstrates community resilience.
The United States has also seen significant grassroots pushback. The Trump era sparked what some called “the Resistance” – millions marching for women’s rights, science, racial justice, etc. Specific to far-right extremism, movements like Black Lives Matter directly challenge the systemic racism that the far right feeds on. BLM protests after police killings (e.g. George Floyd in 2020) swelled to tens of millions, the largest protests in U.S. history – and though BLM isn’t explicitly an anti-fascist group, its core demand for Black dignity and equality is inherently anti-fascist, as it strikes at white supremacist ideology. Meanwhile, anti-fascist (Antifa) groups, though often demonized by the right, have quietly networked to monitor and nonviolently disrupt neo-Nazi organizing. For example, when white supremacists planned rallies in various cities, coalitions of locals have turned up to outnumber and shame them, sometimes literally chasing them out of town. In Boston 2017, just a week after Charlottesville, 40,000 Bostonians flooded the Common to drown out a far-right “Free Speech” rally, vastly outnumbering the few dozen alt-right attendees and forcing them to flee. This demonstrated the public will to “shut down” fascist shows of force by sheer people power.
Importantly, interfaith and interracial solidarity at the grassroots has been a hallmark of recent years. Jewish communities, remembering their history, have come forward strongly to support Muslims under attack and vice versa. When Trump announced his “Muslim ban” in 2017, Jews were among the first at airports protesting, holding signs like “Never Again Means Never Again for Everyone.” Synagogues and mosques have formed partnerships; for instance, some American mosques opened their doors to Jewish congregations after synagogues received bomb threats, and similarly, Jews guarded mosques after anti-Muslim threats. This solidarity directly undercuts the far-right strategy of dividing minorities or pitting Jews and Muslims against each other. It also pushes back on fear – showing unity is the best antidote to hate.
Another grassroots front is online and cultural activism. The far right has exploited social media to spread hate, but activists and ordinary citizens are fighting back in that domain too. Campaigns to pressure tech companies to de-platform supremacist content have seen some success (e.g., Twitter and Facebook, under public pressure, banning certain hate figures – though policies have fluctuated). Grassroots digital sleuths (like Sleeping Giants or Stop Hate for Profit coalitions) have convinced advertisers to pull ads from platforms that harbor extreme content, hitting the far right’s reach. Furthermore, creative efforts – comedians satirizing alt-right tropes, musicians making anti-fascist anthems, filmmakers producing documentaries on the dangers of white nationalism – all these shape public consciousness. Cultural pushback matters because it can strip the far right of the “edgy cool” factor they use to lure youth. For example, punk rock and hip-hop communities historically have strong anti-racist veins, and they continue to call out fascists (one recalls how Rock Against Racism in the UK helped marginalize the National Front in the 1970s; today new artists play a similar role).
Grassroots activists are also working within communities most vulnerable to far-right recruitment – such as economically distressed white communities – to present alternate narratives and address legitimate grievances without racism. For instance, some labor unions and community organizers in midwestern America have dialogues with working-class white folks to explain that immigrants are not to blame for factory closures (corporate offshoring is), thereby cutting off the far right’s scapegoating at the root. Similarly, in Europe, groups help integrate refugees and involve locals so as to reduce fear and misinformation which the far right preys upon.
It’s critical to acknowledge the role of women and youth in the grassroots counter-movement. Far-right groups are often hyper masculine and patriarchal, and they also target women’s rights (see extreme anti-feminist, anti-LGBT views among many populists). In response, women-led movements (like the Women’s March, or mothers organizing against book bans and racism in schools) have been powerful. Youth too – students walking out against gun violence (often far-right aligned groups resist gun control) or climate change (which many far-right leaders deny) – these young activists often lump opposition to bigotry with their causes, understanding the intersectionality. For example, the March for Our Lives against gun violence explicitly linked to fighting racial profiling and hate crimes, recognizing that an armed far-right is a threat to all.
An illustrative moment of grassroots moral clarity came after the white supremacist terrorist attack in Christchurch, New Zealand in 2019. Around the world, communities held vigils and formed “rings of peace” around mosques during Friday prayers to show that the public rejects far-right terror and embraces those targeted. In New Zealand itself, an outpouring of solidarity led to swift gun law changes and nationwide introspection on Islamophobia. This indicates that when atrocities happen, grassroots empathy can force change – contrasting sharply with far-right attempts to capitalize on fear.
To be sure, grassroots anti-fascist activists face challenges: they are often smeared by far-right media as “terrorists” or “thugs” (especially Antifa), and sometimes they face state repression (as some governments foolishly treat anti-fascists and fascists as equivalent threats). But by and large, the grassroots pushback has the moral high ground and public support when framed correctly. Polls in many countries still show the majority rejects extreme racist or authoritarian views, although they might be silent until prompted to act. What these movements do is galvanize the silent majority to realize what’s at stake.
In conclusion, the grassroots response – from anti-fascist protesters in the streets of Berlin and London to civil rights advocates in Washington and Delhi – is a critical front in this conflict. These ordinary citizens form the frontline defense of liberal democracy and pluralism. They operate with passion and often at personal risk, but they inspire others to find courage. History teaches that fascism was defeated not just by armies but by people refusing to go along quietly – the pamphleteers, the strikers, the neighbor who hides the persecuted, the voters who oust the demagogues. Today, that spirit is alive. Graffiti on walls in many cities read messages like “Refugees Welcome”, “No to Racism, No to Fascism”. Each small act – whether holding a sign, reporting a hate incident, or educating one’s family – contributes to a larger wave. It is through such cumulative grassroots action that the tide of hate can be turned.
Turning the Tide: Strategies to Counter the Far-Right Onslaught
The evidence is overwhelming: “war is upon us, whether we like it or not.” This war is not a conventional one between armies, but a multifaceted conflict – ideological, political, cultural, and sometimes violent – unleashed by the far right and its allies. The question now is how to counter this tide effectively and defend the values of pluralism, equality, and peace. It is no longer a time for complacent dialogue or hoping the storm blows over; it is a time for concerted action. Policymakers, community leaders, and ordinary citizens must coordinate strategies on multiple fronts to halt the far-right advance and begin rolling it back.
First and foremost, strengthening democratic institutions and norms is vital. Many far-right movements exploit weaknesses in governance – corruption, lack of transparency, or unresponsiveness – to fuel their “anti-elite” narratives. Therefore, governments committed to democracy need to deliver on good governance: tackle corruption, ensure the rule of law applies equally, and address socio-economic inequalities that breed resentment. Policy reforms that make economies fairer (such as job programs in deindustrialized areas, better social safety nets, and progressive taxation) can undercut the far-right appeal to those who feel left behind. As research shows, economic anxiety alone doesn’t cause fascism, but when combined with racialized scapegoating it can be potent. Thus, a strategy is to remove the fertile ground of grievance by actually helping those communities – and doing so in an inclusive, multiethnic way.
Secondly, the information battlefield must be addressed. Far-right propaganda and disinformation flow swiftly through social media, cable networks, and talk radio. Democratic governments and civil society can no longer afford a laissez-faire attitude to this problem. Without undermining free speech, measures are needed to stop the mass dissemination of hate and lies. This includes pressing social media companies to enforce standards against hate speech and extremist organization (as the UN and many NGOs have urged). It also means investing in public media and education to provide fact-based narratives. For instance, media literacy programs can be instituted in schools to help young people recognize and reject online extremist recruitment. Some countries have pioneered creative counter-messaging: the “Respect” campaigns in Germany that put anti-racist ads in places frequented by neo-Nazis, or Google redirecting searches for jihadist content towards anti-extremism content. Similar ingenuity can target those flirting with far-right ideas – e.g., when someone searches for “great replacement,” ensuring they find content debunking that myth rather than reinforcing it. In essence, fighting the far-right narrative with truth and exposure is key. Much of their power lies in spreading conspiracy and fear unchecked; shining a light often reveals the absurdity and mendacity of their claims.
Next, legal and security measures are necessary to deal with the violent and criminal elements of the far right. Many countries already have laws against hate crimes, terrorist organizations, and armed militias – these must be applied to white supremacist and neo-fascist groups just as they would be to any extremist or gang. For example, the U.S. could designate certain violent neo-Nazi networks as domestic terror groups (some are transnational, coordinating across borders). Europe has begun banning groups – Germany outlawed Combat 18 and other neo-Nazi factions, recognizing their links to terrorism. Intelligence and law enforcement agencies need to treat far-right violence as the top-tier threat it is (in the U.S., the Department of Homeland Security now officially lists domestic violent extremists, particularly white supremacists, as the number one terror threat). This means allocating resources to infiltrate and disrupt plots, monitor online forums where stochastic terrorism is encouraged, and protect likely targets (synagogues, mosques, minority community centers) proactively. Importantly, these actions must be done carefully to avoid overreach or feeding the far-right martyr complex – strong oversight and adherence to civil liberties distinguish a democratic defense from authoritarian methods. Nonetheless, failing to police armed extremists (as happened with lax enforcement against militias in the U.S. pre-Jan6) only emboldens them. A balance of firm law enforcement against violence and safeguarding constitutional rights (e.g., not persecuting nonviolent hate speech but focusing on those preparing violence) should be struck.
Internationally, building broad coalitions against the far-right trend is needed. Just as the far right is forming a global network, so must those who oppose them. Liberal democracies, progressive movements, and non-aligned nations supportive of a pluralistic order can coordinate strategies. This might involve something akin to an “Alliance for Democracy” where countries share intelligence on foreign support for far-right parties (for instance, exposing Russian dark money that sometimes flows to European far-right parties), or where they collectively sanction individuals who engage in race-based violence (similar to how some neo-Nazi leaders have been barred entry to various countries). On a positive front, these coalitions can promote cross-cultural exchange programs to reduce the xenophobic ignorance the far right thrives on – e.g., city twinning programs between Eastern European towns and Middle Eastern towns, or student exchanges that allow people to meet those they otherwise only see as stereotypes. The United Nations and other multilateral fora should continue to be used to isolate governments that slide into far-right authoritarianism. Recently, countries like Hungary and Poland faced EU scrutiny and penalties for undermining rule of law and minority rights; these pressures should persist, signaling that membership in international bodies requires adherence to core values. Non-aligned countries too can use their voice – for example, in 2024 a group of African nations at the UN Human Rights Council spoke out against racial discrimination in the U.S., which, while uncomfortable for the U.S., rightly put its record under the spotlight, something the far right hates as they prefer to operate under cover of denial.
Crucially, engaging the political arena wisely is part of the counter-strategy. Center and left political parties need to present a compelling alternative that draws voters away from far-right populism. This means not triangulating or adopting “lite” versions of far-right talking points (a mistake some center-right parties in Europe have made, per the “vicious cycle” analysis). Instead, mainstream parties should take strong, principled stands on equality and inclusion while also genuinely addressing legitimate public concerns (like crime, economic insecurity) with evidence-based policies that don’t target scapegoats. When far-right leaders are in power or on the rise, a united front strategy can be effective – as seen in France, when left and centrist voters have in the past swallowed differences to vote together against Le Pen in runoffs, or in Germany where all other parties maintain a cordon sanitaire around the AfD (refusing to coalition with it). This unity of democratic forces might mean forming unusual alliances – for instance, progressives and traditional conservatives jointly defending constitutional norms against a far-right challenger. The motto here is “No enemies on the side of democracy”. We saw such unity in the Czech Republic and Slovakia recently, where broad coalitions kept out overt fascists. In the U.S., Republicans who still uphold democratic norms (the Liz Cheneys of the world) found common cause with Democrats in opposing Trump’s election subversion. These are positive examples of putting country over party.
At the grassroots, continuing and expanding the education and dialogue efforts is fundamental. Community dialogues that bring together people of different races/religions to humanize each other can erode the fear the far right thrives on. Schools should incorporate honest history about fascism, colonialism, and civil rights so that the next generation is inoculated against revisionist propaganda. In Germany, Holocaust and dictatorship education is mandatory and contributes to the strong anti-fascist consensus; other countries could emulate rigorous historical education (for example, teaching about slavery, Jim Crow, and civil rights in America, or about imperial atrocities in Britain’s curriculum). The far right often appeals to distorted history or national myth – accurate history is a vaccine.
Moreover, empowering minority and immigrant communities is a strategy in itself. When those targeted by the far right are visible in leadership, in media, in positions of respect, it challenges the stereotypes. Encouraging diversity in policing, in political representation, and in storytelling (from Hollywood to newsrooms) helps create a society that is resilient to “otherization.” Many countries are seeing progress here: Sadiq Khan, a Muslim of Pakistani origin, is mayor of London and staunchly stands up to Islamophobes; in the U.S., the most diverse Congress in history includes outspoken progressive women of color who challenge nativist rhetoric daily. These visible role models and power-holders show younger generations that the far-right vision of a homogenous society is not destiny, and that success is multiethnic.
Finally, there is the intangible but critical element of moral courage and readiness. The conclusion “war is upon us” is a call to shed denial and confront reality. Those who value democracy and human rights must be psychologically prepared for a protracted struggle. It may involve civil disobedience to stop unjust laws (as some humanitarian workers have done, e.g., defying bans to deliver water to migrants in the desert or shelter refugees, risking arrest). It might require whistle blowers inside institutions to expose far-right infiltration or abuse. It certainly requires voting in every election, even local ones, because far-right influence often seeds at local levels (school boards, city councils). Essentially, “preparedness” means treating this like the emergency it is – much as one would mobilize in wartime: organizing communities, stockpiling legal defenses, forging alliances, and keeping morale through solidarity.
In conclusion, countering the far-right tide will take an “all-of-society” approach. Policy fixes, international pressure, grassroots activism, and cultural change must work in tandem. The good news is that across the world, many have already stood up, from the German thousands shouting “Nazis raus!” to the diverse Americans who flooded airports chanting “No Ban, No Wall!” to Indian farmers and students protesting sectarianism. The task now is to scale up and synchronize these efforts. This is a battle for the future, and it demands the kind of clarity and bold action that previous generations showed against fascism. The far right counts on inertia and fear; the counter to that is purposeful action and solidarity.
As we brace ourselves, we should remember the words of history – for instance, antifascist fighters in the Spanish Civil War had a motto: “¡No pasarán!” (“They shall not pass!”). That fighting spirit lives on. In our time, we must say to the forces of hatred and tyranny: you will not prevail. The war is indeed upon us, but if we unite the many against the few who spread hate, if we prepare and act with courage, we can and will defeat this rising fascist threat. The preservation of a just and peaceful world order depends on it. The time for complacency is over; the time for action is now.
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