This summer, The Underground partnered with a fourth year psychology student to gain access to a far-right organization. This was done at great risk to the student, and thus we will honor their request for privacy. All names and identifying details have been removed.
Instinctively, I reached for my beard, only to be slightly startled that it was gone. I forgot – Eilia made me shave. I quickly look around the room. A sigh of relief washes over me, nobody saw me reach for my nonexistent beard. They’re too fixated on hate.
There are no women in the room. Make no mistake, this is not because women are the gentler and more compassionate sex, this is by design. Women are not equals in this world, they’re objects, referred to only as his. They’re our women, his girl, never their own.
You’re the be all that ends all – a modern, white, male. The world reached its peak because of past white men, and without you at the helm, it would descend into chaos. Innovations spurred by colored men and women were only possible by white men.
The world is against you, because it’s jealous of your ability.
The world is against you, and it’s labelled you as racist.
What startles me most, is how easy it is to get caught up in these beliefs.
No, I don’t believe that white men are the superior race.
But it’s hard to not sympathize with these other men in the moment. Men who have been told they’re the problem all their lives. I sometimes wonder if they truly believe these aggressive creeds – or if they’re simply playing a role, that they’ve been forced into.
I’m not excusing their behavior. I’m not denying that they’re racist. I’m just stating the obvious, that they’re not men, they’re boys. This is not to dismiss their behavior as just boy-ish, but an observation that there is nothing manly about these men. Most of whom are simply scared. They’re sheep, being bred into wolves.
I’m not sure if I can leave this life. I remember staring at my hands, bruised and bloodied, wondering if this fate would follow me. I remember washing my hands, at first calmly if only to wash off the blood, and then with rage, hoping it would wash off the hate.
In order to play a role, I said some very disgusting things. I used words I’ve never dared mutter. Aggression and anger is addicting. It’s a rush. Hate is a stimulant. It’s an infectious disease that spreads to every part of your mind and body.
You find yourself standing in line at No-frills, judging the Asian lady by her shopping contents. Cattle. That’s the word I was taught to associate them with. Cattle. Used for breeding, used for feeding. Slow, and dumb.
Every person that uses racism to blame for their problems is less than human to you. Every person that cites some magical system of oppression has been brainwashed. Funny then, how you use bigotry and xenophobia as primers for every action and speech you take.
Racism and anti-racism are closer bedfellows than one realizes.
Am I a Nazi? I’m not sure. You’re constantly told that you’re not a Nazi. That it’s a blanket term used by the media and the far-left to discredit you. Yet, I see members Hitler salute another. And I’ve witnessed our interaction with other groups, one’s who are so defiantly Nazi that they called out my brand of jeans for being Jewish. I never knew jeans could be Jewish.
I’ve broken bread with these boys, my fellow Nazis. I’ve shared conversation and laughter with them. I’ve wondered if maybe they had been hugged longer as a child, if maybe they had not been bullied – then, would things be different?
But even I find myself placing the onus of their racist-burden on their mother, on their teacher.
The reality is, that these boys, while misguided, and not inherently racist or hateful, are vile. Their ideas, their speech, their actions are abhorrent.
If tomorrow they could walk down Yonge Street and execute every non-believer, they would.
They show up at rallies with the sole intention of fighting. It’s a rite of passage.
Punch a communist, and you shall be received.
They conduct violence with pleasure – they know the police will protect them. They know the media will always portray Antifa as worse than them.
After all, they’re simply white men standing up for their rights, what could be so wrong about that? I wonder if the world would agree if they could see them as I do, away from the cameras, away from the lights. In the darkness of a basement, where their hatred breeds unbound.