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The alt-right is more than warmed-over white supremacy. It’s that, but way way weirder.

Dylan Matthews
Dylan Matthews is a senior correspondent and head writer for Vox’s Future Perfect section and has worked at Vox since 2014. He is particularly interested in global health and pandemic prevention, anti-poverty efforts, economic policy and theory, and conflicts about the right way to do philanthropy.

Later today in Nevada, Hillary Clinton is scheduled to deliver a speech on the subject of “Donald Trump and his advisors’ embrace of the disturbing ‘alt-right’ political philosophy” that she characterizes as “embracing extremism and presenting a divisive and dystopian view of America which should concern all Americans, regardless of party.”

That’s a striking level of prominence for a movement that until recently was extremely obscure. A movement lurking in Reddit and 4chan threads and in community blogs and forums, a movement of right-wingers who openly argue that democracy is a joke. That it’s weak, it’s corrupt, and it caters to the whims of a fickle electorate rather than the needs of the citizenry. That Congress and the president must be replaced with a CEO-like figure to run the country as it truly should be, without the confused input of the masses.

For some in the movement, Donald Trump really is that figure. For the hardcore, even the most authoritarian-styled presidential candidate in decades isn’t good enough.

Welcome to the alt-right.

The label blends together straight-up white supremacists, nationalists who think conservatives have sold out to globalization, and nativists who fear immigration will spur civil disarray. But at its core are the ideas of a movement known as neoreaction, and neoreaction (NRx for short) is a rejection of democracy.

Thus, within the world of neoreaction, Trump’s seemingly authoritarian impulses are a feature, not a bug. The only real problem is he may not go far enough. NRxer Michael Perilloux, for example, complained that Trump wouldn’t pull off the kind of power grab that many of his critics fear him capable of:

Is Trump likely to cancel the constitution, declare martial law, declare himself emperor to be succeeded by his children, nationalize the banks and media, hang some of the worst criminal bankers, send the Israelis back to Israel, call the National Guard to roll tanks into Harvard Yard, place all communists and other anti-American elements under house arrest, retire all government employees, replace the USG with the Trump Organization, and begin actually rebuilding America and western civilization?

Short of that, he is simply another phenomenon within the arcane workings of the system, as worthy of support as the ebb and flow of the tides. Surely, the unprecedented nature of his campaign warrants excited interest as a historical case-study and promising fore-shock of a true restoration, but he is not the king, and we have a ways to go yet.

Others on the alt-right hew closer to Trump, though. The alt-right has become a major base of Trump’s online support, causing Trump observers from BuzzFeed to National Review to take notice. They’re striking fear into the hearts of the mainstream rightists.

“They are the vehicles by which anti-liberal and dehumanizing sentiments become legitimized in conservative circles,” Washington Free Beacon editor Matthew Continetti explained in an essay for Commentary. In an essay for the Federalist called “You Can’t Whitewash the Alt-Right’s Bigotry,“ Cathy Young assails the movement as, “a mix of old bigotries and new identity and victimhood politics adapted for the straight white male.”

The alt-right is often dismissed as white supremacist Trump supporters with Twitter accounts, and they are certainly that. But spend some time talking to key players and reading the movement’s central texts, as I did, and you’ll find it’s more than a simple rebranding of the white nationalist movement. It’s the product of the intersection of a longstanding, long-marginalized part of the conservative movement with both the most high-minded and the basest elements of internet culture. It’s a mutated revival of a monster William F. Buckley thought he killed in the early 1990s, given new energy by the web.

And it’s making its impact felt in a big way this election. In the past, when mainstream conservatives have gone up against racialist, conspiratorial elements on the right, they have emerged the victors. Buckley successively marginalized the John Birch Society in the 1950s, and then Pat Buchanan and his followers in the 1990s. People like Continetti and Young are trying to do the same thing to the alt-right. But with huge amounts of online energy behind the movement, and Trump this year’s GOP nominee, it’s not clear that the mainstream will win.

Elon Musk for king

"I'm not a neoreactionary, I just crush a lot."

Let’s start with the most theoretically minded, and probably most interesting, branch of the alt-right: the neoreactionaries.

In 2007, a writer with the pen name Mencius Moldbug (née Curtis Yarvin) started a blog called Unqualified Reservations. He proceeded to write essays that would inspire a whole movement of online political writers. The neoreactionaries drew inspiration from earlier paleoconservatives like Pat Buchanan and Joseph Sobran but with a tech-y twist. Moldbug, for one, is a veteran Bay Area programmer currently working on a startup he cofounded called Urbit.

And the core contention of Moldbug and the other NRx thinkers is one that’s been common in technolibertarian circles for a long time: Democracy is a failure.

“Democracy is — as most writers before the 19th century agreed — an ineffective and destructive system of government,” Moldbug writes. Moldbug doesn’t actually like the term “democracy.” He prefers “demotism,” or rule of the people, a label under which he sweeps modern-day developed democracies like the US or Western Europe but also the former Soviet bloc, Nazism, and fascism. “Universalist lawful democracy is the least demotist of demotisms, Demotism Lite if you will,” he writes. “Compared to Communism and Nazism, there’s much to be said for it. But this is a rather low bar.”

The purpose of government, in the view of neoreactionaries, isn’t to represent the will of the people. It’s to govern well, full stop. “From the perspective of its subjects, what counts is not who runs the government but what the government does,” Moldbug explains. “Good government is effective, lawful government. Bad government is ineffective, lawless government. How anyone reasonable could disagree with these statements is quite beyond me. And yet clearly almost everyone does.”

And democratic government, the neoreactionaries insist, is not effective, lawful government. Because the will of the people is arbitrary and varying, it cannot have the consistency of real, durable law, and it creates incentives for wasteful and, worse still, left-wing government. Moldbug started as an Austrian-school libertarian, and most neoreactionaries have general small-government sympathies and express a fear that democracy inevitably leads to ever greater taxation and redistribution, and otherwise encroaches on individual liberty.

“Democracy and ‘progressive democracy’ are synonymous, and indistinguishable from the expansion of the state,” Nick Land, the next most influential neoreactionary thinker after Moldbug, writes. “Since winning elections is overwhelmingly a matter of vote buying, and society’s informational organs (education and media) are no more resistant to bribery than the electorate, a thrifty politician is simply an incompetent politician, and the democratic variant of Darwinism quickly eliminates such misfits from the gene pool.” The result is a government that grows larger and larger.

Moldbug is even blunter: “Cthulhu may swim slowly. But he only swims left.”

This is a strain of thinking that more mainstream libertarians have expressed in greater and greater numbers of late. In 2007, George Mason economist Bryan Caplan argued in The Myth of the Rational Voter that democracy will inevitably lead to suboptimal economic policy because the general public is systematically biased against markets, increased productivity, and trade with foreigners. Peter Thiel, the libertarian billionaire who co-founded PayPal and Palantir and was the first outsider to invest in Facebook, declared in 2009, “I no longer believe that freedom and democracy are compatible.”

But while mainstream libertarians are outspoken about democracy’s deficiencies, they rarely propose an alternative. The neoreactionaries do: monarchy. Well, not monarchy specifically, but some kind of nondemocratic system with rule-driven succession. Moldbug likes to use the term “formalism,“ or “neocameralism,“ a reference to “cameralism,” the philosophy of government embraced by Frederick the Great of Prussia. Moldbug’s vision is corporatist, where instead of a nation belonging to a royal family, it belongs to corporation with shareholders to whom it is accountable. “To a neocameralist, a state is a business which owns a country,” he writes.

When asked who should lead it, Moldbug’s tech roots come through. “It’s easy to say ‘put Elon [Musk] in charge, he’ll figure it out,’ and he might well,” he tells me via email.

The 19th-century Scottish thinker Thomas Carlyle, a hero to many neoreactionaries.

Libertarians also tend to be big fans of modernity, and despite its affinities to the tech world, neoreaction really, really is not. Neoreactionaries believe that for a long time — maybe since the French Revolution — things have been going to shit. Moldbug likes to trot out anecdotes about crime in the Victorian era to make his point. Here’s a description of 1876 London he cites:

There are, of course, in most great cities, some quarters of evil repute in which assault and robbery are now and again committed. … But any man of average stature and strength may wander about on foot and alone, at any hour of the day or the night, through the greatest of all cities and its suburbs, along the high roads, and through unfrequented country lanes, and never have so much as the thought of danger thrust upon him, unless he goes out of his way to court it.

The point is clear: Do you feel that safe in 21st-century America? If not, could it be the case that we’re regressing as time wears on, and not progressing?

“The present system has every incentive to portray itself as superior to all past systems,” the neoreactionary Michael Anissimov writes. “Reactionaries point out this is not the case, and actually see present society in a state of severe decline, pointing to historically high levels of crime, suicide, government and household debt, increasing time preference, and low levels of civic participation and self-reported happiness as a few examples of a current cultural and historical crisis. The demographic crisis in First World countries is cited as another example of decline.”

This countering of the narrative of constant progress also makes it easier for the neoreactionaries to defend actually existing monarchy in the past. Most people living today think of contemporary democratic regimes as clearly better than, say, England as ruled by Elizabeth I. Moldbug believes no such thing:

Hitler and Stalin are abortions of the democratic era - cases of what Jacob Talmon called totalitarian democracy. This is easily seen in their unprecedented efforts to control public opinion, through both propaganda and violence. Elizabeth’s legitimacy was a function of her identity - it could be removed only by killing her. Her regime was certainly not the stablest government in history, and nor was it entirely free from propaganda, but she had no need to terrorize her subjects into supporting her.

If governments really have gotten less free, and life really has gotten worse in recent centuries, then it’s a short leap from those conclusions to thinking that democracy is a lie and absolute monarchy has a lot going for it. (Note that these empirical claims are, well, not true. Scott Alexander explains well here; his devil’s advocate account of reactionary beliefs is also well worth your time.)

Neoreaction, race, and the Cathedral

The other distinguishing conflict between the neoreactionaries and the libertarians is that neoreaction places huge value on group membership and group loyalty. Most modern libertarians are individualists, motivated by a desire to prevent the masses from oppressing the individual through the mechanism of democratic government.

Neoreactionaries are not individualists. They think in terms of social structure and order, and view social classes or races as the units determining the future of society, much as Marxists speak not of individual workers and capitalists but of the proletariat and the bourgeoisie as a whole. They are tribalists, and for the most part — let’s not mince words — they are racists.

Moldbug in particular views American society as a kind of Indian-style caste system. He views the Democratic Party as a coalition of Brahmins (liberal intellectual types who went to fancy schools), Dalits (poor, mostly black or Latino people), and Helots (Mexican immigrant workers). “What the Dalit alliance gives progressives is more than just a vote bank,” he writes. “What the Dalits are is muscle, a militia, a mob. … Basically, the Brahmins have every possible Machiavellian interest in encouraging an invasion of Third World barbarians. The more, the nastier, the better. Their real hereditary enemy is the native barbarian — the half-civilized Vaisya, the ignorant megachurched Okie redneck, the Huckabee voter, the Bircher and McCarthyite, America Firster and Coolidge voter.”

Moldbug has rejected white nationalism by name (his father is Jewish, for one thing) but only in the course of praising many aspects of it: “Although I am not a white nationalist, I am not exactly allergic to the stuff … I believe white nationalism is a very ineffective political device for solving the very real problems about which it complains.”

He is sympathetic to arguments for black racial inferiority. “Ever since Mill wrote his response to Carlyle on The Negro Question and probably well before, writers in the English Protestant tradition have been defending the blatantly theological proposition that ‘all men are created equal,’” he snidely commented on a 2008 blog post. “In the absence of any evidence for this proposition, one can always assert that evidence for the contrary is unconvincing. Note that exactly the same rhetorical strategy can prove the existence of God, or the Flying Spaghetti Monster for that matter.”

Just as importantly, he and other neoreactionaries insist that contrary perspectives — support for racist governments, opposition to black liberation movements, etc. — are being viciously suppressed by liberal elites in the US: “even just suggest it,” Moldbug writes, “and you’ll see what it means to have enemies.”

Neoreactionaries are obsessed with taking down what Moldbug refers to as “the Cathedral”: a complex of Ivy League universities, the New York Times and other elite media institutions, Hollywood, and more that function to craft and mold public opinion so as to silence opposing viewpoints.

Park MacDougald, in an excellent piece on Nick Land’s brand of neoreaction, describes the Cathedral as a “media-academic mind-control apparatus.” I actually think the best analogy is to the role the patriarchy plays in radical feminist epistemology, or the role of “ideology” in Marxism. Neo-reaction demands a total rethinking of the way the world works, and such attempts generally only succeed if they can attack the sources of knowledge in society and offer a theory for why they’re systematically fallible.

That’s how feminist scholars have (I think correctly) undermined pseudoscientific attempts to paint female servility as natural, or male aggression and violence as inevitable and ultimately acceptable. Yes, the argument goes, these ideas have had elite supporters in the past, but those elites were tainted by institutional sexism. Similarly, Marxists are always alert to how media produced by big corporations can be tilted to serve those corporations’ class interests. The philosopher Paul Ricoeur once helpfully dubbed this kind of argument the “hermeneutics of suspicion.“

Neoreaction takes this approach and flips it on its head. No, it’s not institutional sexism or bourgeois class interest that’s perverting our knowledge base. It’s institutional progressivism, and fear of the revival of monarchism, tribalism, and prejudice.

That makes it a lot easier for neoreactionaries to defend their narrative of Western decline and democratic failure. If you look at the numbers, the Whig theory of history — with some faults and starts, everything’s getting better — appears to be basically right. Extreme poverty is at historic lows, hunger and infant mortality are plummeting, life expectancy is going up, war is on the decline, education is more available, homicide rates are down, etc.

But what if those numbers are all lies produced by biased Cathedral sources in academia and propagated by Cathedral tools in the media like Vox? What then?

Before the neoreactionaries, there were the paleocons

Scott McConnell, Pat Buchanan, and Taki Theodoracopulos at the launch of the American Conservative in September, 2002.

The neoreactionaries are a distinctly ‘00s and ‘10s phenomenon, but they draw on the racialist and traditionalist arguments of a much older movement: paleoconservatism.

The term “paleoconservatism” is a retronym coined in the 1980s to characterize a brand of conservatism that was by then going extinct, a brand exemplified by Robert Taft, the Ohio senator and legendary isolationist who lost the 1952 Republican nomination to Dwight Eisenhower, and by Pat Buchanan in his 1992, 1996, and 2000 presidential runs.

Paleocons agree with mainstream conservatism on social issues — they tend to be stridently anti-abortion, anti-LGBTQ rights, pro-school prayer, and disproportionately traditionalist Catholic — and on the evils of the welfare state, but part ways on international affairs, including immigration, trade, and warfare.

Paleocons are largely isolationist, warning America against foreign entanglements and dismissing neocon attempts at democracy promotion as hubristic and doomed to failure. They were overwhelmingly against the Iraq War, and tend to be heavily critical of Israel. They’re also more fervently nationalist than mainstream Republicans. That translates into a very negative view of immigration, both due to its perceived economic harm to Americans and because of the “damage” it does to American culture, and into more support for tariffs and trade protection.

But since Buchanan, the movement hasn’t had a loud national voice. After 9/11, paleocon isolationism became anathema among conservative intellectuals and politicians. Mainstream conservatives like George W. Bush and Marco Rubio embraced immigration reform that offered unauthorized immigrants citizenship. Free trade opposition within the GOP went extinct.

There are a number of reasons the paleocons lost ground, but a big one was that the movement had a huge racism problem. In particular, skepticism of foreign entanglements and of the alliance with Israel specifically would occasionally bleed into overt anti-Semitism.

The saga of Joseph Sobran is a case in point. A longtime columnist at National Review, he was fired by William F. Buckley in 1993 following years of open clashes about his attitude toward Israel and Jewish people in general. In 1991, Buckley had dedicated an entire issue of the magazine to a 40,000-word essay he wrote, “In Search of Anti-Semitism,“ in which he condemned Buchanan (then challenging President George H.W. Bush in the GOP primaries) and his employee Sobran for anti-Jewish prejudice. Buckley had a point. Sobran really was a world-class anti-Semite, writing in one National Review column , “If Christians were sometimes hostile to Jews, that worked two ways. Some rabbinical authorities held that it was permissible to cheat and even kill Gentiles.”

After leaving NR, Sobran’s writing, in the words of fellow paleocon and American Conservative editor Scott McConnell, “deteriorated into the indefensible.” He started speaking at conferences organized by famed Holocaust denier David Irving and the denial group Institute for Historical Review, asking at the latter, “Why on earth is it ‘anti-Jewish’ to conclude from the evidence that the standard numbers of Jews murdered are inaccurate, or that the Hitler regime, bad as it was in many ways, was not, in fact, intent on racial extermination?”

He wasn’t alone. John Derbyshire, perhaps the last real paleocon left at National Review, was canned in 2012 after writing a piece addressed to children full of advice like, “Avoid concentrations of blacks not all known to you personally,” “Stay out of heavily black neighborhoods,” and, “If planning a trip to a beach or amusement park at some date, find out whether it is likely to be swamped with blacks on that date.”

After that, Derbyshire started writing at VDARE, an anti-immigration white nationalist site named after Virginia Dare, the first white Christian born in British North America. The article that got him fired wasn’t actually posted at National Review but at Taki’s Magazine, an outlet run by millionaire paleocon Taki Theodoracopulos that was formerly edited by outspoken white supremacist Richard B. Spencer and has run articles by Theodoracopulos in support of the Greek neo-Nazi party Golden Dawn.

This has been the trend for paleoconservative writing in the past decade or two. It’s largely turned from mainstream conservative outfits to openly racist venues like VDARE, Taki’s, American Renaissance, and the Occidental Observer. Admirably, the American Conservative has held the line and resisted crossing over into open white nationalism, but they’re basically alone in that.

Meanwhile, Pat Buchanan, the paleocons’ great political hope, has more or less always been this openly bigoted. In 1990 he infamously insisted that 850,000 Jews couldn’t have died at Treblinka from diesel fumes. In 2007 he declared, “If you want to know ethnicity and power in the United States Senate, 13 members of the Senate are Jewish folks who are from 2 percent of the population. That is where real power is at.” In 2008, he wrote an entire book arguing that the Second World War was basically Britain’s fault and Hitler was largely blameless. So it’s no surprise that he, too, has been increasingly marginalized, losing his MSNBC position in 2012.

The neoreactionaries are not simply heirs to the paleoconservatives. The paleocons are ultimately more religious, and more loyal to the US Constitution and basic small-r republican ideals. But the neoreactionaries share with the paleocons a belief in tribalism and racial difference, and a deep sense that the mainstream is trying to crush them. Joseph Sobran didn’t use the term “Cathedral,” but he’d surely think it to blame for his marginalization.

And then there are the channers

Milo Yiannopoulos, patron saint of the channer alt-right.

The leading actual neoreactionaries are not fans of Donald Trump. “Trump appears to have no ideology at all and very little historical/intellectual awareness of his context,” Moldbug — who now just goes by his birth name, Curtis Yarvin — writes in an email.

“I would love to see a CEO with a real track record of strategic execution in a large enterprise — an Elon Musk or Jeff Bezos — running against Trump. I don’t even think the ideology matters that much; once someone competent got in that office, and felt a real sense of both authority and responsibility, ideology would start to matter a lot less.”

Instead, the alt-right’s affiliation with Trump comes from another group that blended paleocon-ish ideas with internet culture. I speak, of course, of 4chan.

4chan is mostly still a forum for trolling and random nonsense. It was started to discuss anime, and insofar as it’s been political it’s been in a not strictly left-right way, and usually through the avenue of Anonymous, the activist group that split off from 4chan to do direct action. Protesting Scientology and leaking information on the Steubenville rapists are definitely political acts, but they’re not identifiably left-wing or right-wing.

But in recent years, a vocal right-wing contingent has popped up. As New York magazine’s Brian Feldman explains, part of this is an artifact of 4chan gaining popularity and its popular catchall board — /b/ — losing ground to alternatives, notably /pol/, or the “Politically Incorrect” chat board. “To the extent that there is a shared political ideology across /pol/, it’s a heavily ironic mix of garden-variety white supremacy and neo-reactionary movements,” Feldman writes.

“Most days,” the Daily Beast’s Jacob Siegel writes, “/pol/ resembles nothing so much as [white supremacist blog] The Daily Stormer with the signal to noise dial turned only slightly.” The Southern Poverty Law Center has taken notice, with fellow Keegan Hankes telling Siegel, “You can’t understate 4chan’s role. I constantly see 4chan being mentioned by the more Internet- and tech-savvy guys in the white nationalist movement. They’re getting their content from 4chan.”

Hankes has noticed this trend on Reddit as well, noting in a Gawker essay that “Reddit increasingly is providing a home for anti-black racists — and some of the most virulent and violent propaganda around.”

This has channeled into the Trump movement. Milo Yiannopoulos, the Breitbart writer and major Trump defender who’s perhaps the most vocal exponent of alt-rightism online, famously employs an army of interns, a lot of whom he says are “young 4chan guys.“ In their own alt-right explainer, Yiannopoulos and co-author Allum Bokhari argue that /pol/‘s alt-righters have embraced racism purely for shock value:

Just as the kids of the 60s shocked their parents with promiscuity, long hair and rock’n’roll, so too do the alt-right’s young meme brigades shock older generations with outrageous caricatures, from the Jewish “Shlomo Shekelburg” to “Remove Kebab,” an internet in-joke about the Bosnian genocide. Are they actually bigots? No more than death metal devotees in the 80s were actually Satanists. For them, it’s simply a means to fluster their grandparents … Young people perhaps aren’t primarily attracted to the alt-right because they’re instinctively drawn to its ideology: they’re drawn to it because it seems fresh, daring and funny, while the doctrines of their parents and grandparents seem unexciting, overly-controlling and overly-serious.

For good measure, they quote Moldbug/Yarvin: “If you spend 75 years building a pseudo-religion around anything – an ethnic group, a plaster saint, sexual chastity or the Flying Spaghetti Monster – don’t be surprised when clever 19-year-olds discover that insulting it is now the funniest fucking thing in the world. Because it is.”

This branch of the alt-right has also played an important role in the Gamergate movement, an ongoing effort to harass women in the video game industry until they shut up about equality and representation. Yiannopoulos, who before the controversy called gamers “pungent beta male bollock-scratchers and twelve-year-olds,” jumped on it as a cause with reactionary potential. “GamerGate is remarkable — and attracts the interest of people like me — because it represents perhaps the first time in the last decade or more that a significant incursion has been made in the culture wars against guilt-mongerers, nannies, authoritarians and far-Left agitators,” he wrote in late 2014.

The affinity between gamers and right politics makes sense. “It’s not hard to see why this ideology would catch-on with white male geeks,” Klint Finley writes in his excellent explainer on neoreaction. “It tells them that they are the natural rulers of the world, but that they are simultaneously being oppressed by a secret religious order. And the more media attention is paid to workplace inequality, gentrification and the wealth gap, the more their bias is confirmed.”

“While GamerGate started off as a very diverse, vocal opponent to what they saw was unethical journalism (before it was debunked), many of the anonymous /pol/ rightists would take advantage of its anti-left character by creating sock-puppets,” an anonymous 4channer and ex-Gamergater wrote last year. “Today it is hard to find a 4chan user that doesn’t have an attachment to far right politics.”

And this enthusiasm for far-right politics has bled into Trumpism. JaredTSwift, an alt-righter who got his start on 4chan, gushed to Motherboard’s Oliver Lee, “Trump was meme-able and entertaining, and something like a ban on Muslim immigration would never have been considered before him.”

r/The_Donald — the alt-right dominated home of Trump supporters on Reddit — racked up 52 million pageviews in March, way more than the 35 million at r/SandersForPresident. The driving force behind the subreddit is CisWhiteMaelstrom, a user whose very name includes the kind of purposefully offensive trolling that defines the Channer alt-right. “Clicking through r/The_Donald is like walking into a rowdy clubhouse for (mostly) men who feel under siege from ‘political correctness,’” MSNBC’s Benjy Sarlin reports. Scrolling through the Reddit page, one sees reference after reference to “cuckservatives,“ an alt-right term of art which analogizes mainstream conservatives to cuckolded husbands.

Does the alt-right matter for Donald Trump?

This guy.

While the alt-right constitutes a big share of Trump’s online support — if you’ve ever criticized Trump on Twitter, you’ve probably dealt with alt-rightists — the internet is not the real world. They’re not a necessary part of Trump’s electoral coalition. They’re not organized enough to make policy demands of a policy administration, and too disillusioned by mainstream politics to make such demands in any case.

Insofar as the alt-right’s role in the Trump movement matters, it matters because it suggests a route for Trumpism to survive past Trump. If the polls are right, Trump is set to go down in fiery defeat in November, crushed by Hillary Clinton.

But win or lose, Trump has shown that overt contempt for racial equality, naked tribalistic appeals to white racial solidarity, and vaguely authoritarian rhetoric can add up to a very successful campaign, at least within the Republican Party. That gives the alt-right new relevance, and helps convince its members that America might be ready for their ideas.

It also opens the door for a more sophisticated future candidate, one reared on alt-right arguments rather than stumbling into them the way Trump has. Such a candidate could effectively whip up an alt-right base of support, but potentially use it more intelligently and effectively than Trump. If this sounds fantastical, it’s worth remembering that open white supremacists like Strom Thurmond and James Eastland were serving in the US Senate 40, 30, even 20 years ago. Our current period without avowed white nationalists in power, backed by an organized constituency of the same, is the exception, not the norm.

“Trump is a flashlight. Trump shines a light on forgotten truths,” the neoreactionary Ryan Landry writes. “Trump shines a light on the fact that we truly have reached a point where a candidate who implicitly advocates for whites is considered dangerous and a cause for protest. … Those on the edge have known this anti-white mania is out there, but the protest-riot made it real for millions more.”

That’s exactly it. Neoreaction is on the edge, as is the alt-right as a whole, but Trump is not. Trump is decidedly mainstream. He’s scaring mainstream conservative outlets like National Review and Commentary. And like Gamergate before him, he suggests that the ideas of neoreaction and alt-rightism could break through, and that candidates supported by alt-right elements have a bright future ahead of them.

Donald Trump’s rise is a scary moment in American history

“I’m not a neoreactionary, I just crush a lot.”

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