Resistance That Won’t Quit: A Timeline of the Keystone XL Pipeline


Despite a Trump executive order undoing nearly nine years of defiance, the story of the-pipeline-that-won’t-die isn’t over.


In July 2008, TransCanada Corporation announced plans for what would be known as Keystone XL, a 2,030-mile-long oil pipeline from Alberta to U.S. refineries on the Gulf Coast.

The pipeline would transport 830,000 barrels of tar sands oil a day. The State Department estimated Keystone XL alone could add up to 27 million tons of CO2 to the atmosphere per year. More recent studies place the potential at 100 million tons.

Opposition began with Indigenous activists who were joined by the environmental movement. The resistance grew bigger, bolder, and more united in the process.

Because the 1,700-mile northern section of the pipeline—Keystone XL proper—enters the U.S. over the international border with Canada, it required approval by the U.S. State Department. In Nebraska, farmers and ranchers challenged TransCanada’s eminent domain in court, and kept the pipeline at bay for seven years.

“It was the landowners who opposed granting easements who made it possible for Obama to veto Keystone XL,” rancher and organizer Ben Gotschall said.

That hard-won veto was undone by executive order during President Donald Trump’s first 100 days in office. But the story of Keystone XL isn’t over. Resistance-that-won’t-quit has been holding back the-pipeline-that-won’t-die for nearly nine years. This is how we got here:

YES! Illustration by Jennifer Luxton

BIG GREEN BEGAN TO TAKE ON THE PIPELINE in 2009, when environmental groups working on climate policy were dismayed by the failure of a cap-and-trade bill and the United Nations climate talks. Given the power of the fossil fuel lobby, the necessity of new strategies became apparent. “Now we know what we didn’t before,” wrote Bill McKibben, founder of “Making nice doesn’t work…we may need to get arrested.”

June 26, 2009 The American Clean Energy and Security Act, a bill to reduce carbon emissions and support sustainable technology through cap-and-trade, is approved in the House of Representatives but never reaches the floor of the Senate.
Dec. 18, 2009 The UN Climate Conference in Copenhagen fails to establish effective global agreements to limit carbon emissions.
April 2010 The U.S. State Department’s draft environmental impact statement (EIS) says Keystone XL would have a limited effect on the environment.
April 20, 2010 The Deepwater Horizon explosion, the worst marine oil spill in history, wreaks havoc on the ecosystem and people of the Gulf. The well continues leaking until it is capped in mid-September.
YES! Illustration by Jennifer Luxton
May 2010 U.S. State Department holds public meetings in Nebraska as part of the Environmental Impact Assessment process for Keystone XL. Rancher Ben Gotschall sees the pipeline’s proposed route runs through the Nebraska Sandhills ecosystem—and above the Ogallala aquifer, the source of irrigation and drinking water for eight states.

Gotschall and Jane Kleeb of Bold Nebraska start a campaign against the pipeline that focuses on land rights and the pipeline’s threat to agricultural livelihoods. Bold Nebraska forms a coalition with Sierra Club Nebraska, Nebraska Wildlife Federation, the League of Women Voters and the Nebraska Farmers Union. The model spreads to other states, creating the Bold Alliance.

July 2010 The EPA gives the State Department’s draft environmental impact statement the lowest possible rating, and raises concerns about Keystone XL’s large carbon footprint, global warming and national security, and the risk of a spill in the Ogallala aquifer.

The State Department extends its review period to reach a final EIS.

YES! Illustration by Jennifer Luxton
September 2010 Indigenous Environmental Network organizers from Native tribes and Canadian First Nations visit decision-makers in Washington, D.C., informing them of the harmful impact of tar sands development and urging them to oppose Keystone XL.
January 2011 Globally, 2010 is determined to be one of the hottest years on record. It will prove to be just the first of many “hottest years.”
YES! Illustration by Jennifer Luxton
June 3, 2011 Climate scientist James Hansen publishes “Silence is Deadly,” writing that adding tar sands to the global carbon load would ensure catastrophic climate change, in what he calls “game over” for the atmosphere.
August 2011 The State Department releases its final EIS, finding that Keystone XL would have a limited environmental impact.

YES! Illustration by Jennifer Luxton

In East Texas, TransCanadafiles for eminent domain with the Texas Railroad Commission and seizes a pipeline easement on Julia Trigg Crawford’s family farm. Crawford will appeal to the Texas Supreme Court on the grounds that the project to pipe tar sands bitumen through her land and under a local water source is not a public good as defined in the Constitution and thus not entitled to eminent domain. Her legal case becomes a cause célèbre, supported by thousands of small donations.

DIRECT ACTION AND DIVESTMENT BECAME COMPLEMENTARY STRATEGIESfor the climate movement beginning in 2011. Pipeline opponents focused on Obama’s power to veto the Keystone XL. They demonstrated on his re-election tour and staged mass civil disobedience outside the White House during his second term. The pipeline permit was delayed, denied, and filed again, and the fossil fuel divestment campaign was launched to address the money backing Big Oil.

YES! Illustration by Jennifer Luxton
Aug. 20–Sept. 3, 2011 Protesters stage a two-week campaign at the White House to demonstrate the strength of their objections to Keystone XL. The protest follows the tactics of the civil rights movement, and is supported by large environmental groups not previously associated with civil disobedience, including Friends of the Earth and the Environmental Defense Fund. The protest had a strong Indigenous presence. Police arrest 1,253 for “stepping over the line” in front of the White House to protest Keystone XL, including organizer Debra White Plume (Oglala Dakota), actors Tantoo Cardinal (Cree), Margot Kidder, and Daryl Hannah, and writer Naomi Klein.

Hurricane Irene sweeps up the East Coast.

October 2011 TransCanada threatens to sue Nebraska for billions if it passes laws blocking Keystone XL. Members of Congress call on the State Department’s Inspector General to review the hiring of a firm to conduct Keystone’s environmental impact review—a firm that works for TransCanada.
November 2011 About 15,000 people surround the White House in a “solidarity hug,” once again urging Obama to veto the pipeline.
Nov. 10-14, 2011 The State Department says TransCanada must reroute the pipeline to avoid the ecologically sensitive Nebraska Sandhills. TransCanada agrees to reroute the line.
YES! Illustration by Jennifer Luxton
November 2011 Obama delays the pipeline approval process to give Nebraska time to “institute its own regulations and oversight of pipelines.” The Nebraska state legislature mandates its own EIS for Keystone XL.
December 2011 U.S. legislators require Obama to make a decision on Keystone XL within the next 60 days.
Jan. 18, 2012 Obama rejects the Keystone XL permit, saying the December bill did not leave enough time to review the new route. TransCanada is free to submit another application.
Feb. 27, 2012 TransCanada says it will build the southern leg of Keystone XL, from Cushing, Oklahoma, to the Gulf Coast, as a separate project with a price tag of $2.3 billion. This portion is not subject to presidential permission, as it does not cross an international border.
YES! Illustration by Jennifer Luxton
March 5, 2012 Lakota elders take part in the first action of civil disobedienceagainst tar sands oil transport on the Pine Ridge Reservation.
March 22, 2012 In Cushing, tribal members protest at Obama’s speech announcing a fast-track for the southern leg of the pipeline.
May 4, 2012 TransCanada files a new application with the State Department for the pipeline’s northern section.
September–December 2012 Activists from Tar Sands Blockade stage a tree sit-in blocking bulldozers on David Daniel’s farm in Winnsboro, Texas. The sit-in draws public attention to the frustration of farmers and ranchers like Daniel, whose land is being seized against his will. After three months and 50 arrests, the pipeline is rerouted around the sit-in.
YES! Illustration by Jennifer Luxton
Oct. 2012 In East Texas, 78-year-old Eleanor Fairchild is arrested on her land for standing in front of an earth excavator to block pipeline construction.

Superstorm Sandy originates in the Caribbean and moves north, affecting 24 states. A storm surge in NYC destroys homes, floods streets and subway tunnels, and knocks out power to a quarter of the city.

YES! Illustration by Jennifer Luxton
Nov. 7, 2012 Bill McKibben launches’s “Do the Math” tour, a new divestment campaign targeting the fossil fuel companies’ power to block effective climate legislation.
January 2013 Nebraska Gov. Dave Heineman approves TransCanada’s proposed new route for Keystone XL. Opponents file a lawsuit against the State of Nebraska claiming the law used to review the new route is unconstitutional.

Through Nebraska Easement Action Team, Gotschall reaches out to landowners on the pipeline’s new route and organizes a legal defense fund to challenge eminent domain.

People from 25 tribes and First Nations meet at the Gathering to Protect the Sacred from Tar Sands Projects in South Dakota. The international treaty commemorates the 150-year anniversary of the Pawnee and Yankton Sioux Peace Treaty and forms deep intertribal alliances.

Building on the work of activists like Faith Spotted Eagle, non-Natives are included in the gathering. Some are Great Plains ranchers who acknowledge broken treaties and find common cause with tribes seeking to protect their land from tar sands pipelines. The Cowboy Indian Alliance is formed. It will join forces with Bold Nebraska and other activists to meet at tribal council meetings, rallies, and public hearings about the Keystone XL.

YES! Illustration by Jennifer Luxton
February 2013 The Sierra Club participates in civil disobedience for the first time in its 120-year history when it joins protesters at the White House calling for Obama to reject the pipeline. Among the 48 arrested are Robert Kennedy Jr., Julian Bond, McKibben, and NASA scientist James Hansen. Tribal members participate in the Washington rally against Keystone XL, telling the federal government that it has not consulted adequately with tribes. A coalition of tribal and other Indigenous representatives meet with EPA officials to highlight the health, cultural, economic, and human rights impacts of the proposed pipeline on Indigenous people.
March 8-9, 2013 On the Pine Ridge Reservation, Owe Aku’s Sacred Water Protection Project holds a “Moccasins on the Ground” training for nonviolent direct action.
April 22, 2013 The EPA criticizes the State Department’s latest EIS as insufficient, and recommends routing the pipeline to avoid the Ogallala aquifer. By this date, Earth Day, the State Department has received a million public comments on the EIS, most of them against the pipeline.
May 2013 While Crawford waits for her appeal against eminent domain to be heard in the Texas Supreme Court, TransCanada begins pipeline construction on her land. The southern section of the pipeline becomes a reality.

A U.S. State Department meeting in South Dakota to consult with tribes on Keystone XL ends on May 16 when the Great Plains Tribal Chairmen’s Association—16 tribal leaders from North Dakota, South Dakota, and Nebraska who have joined to defend treaty rights—declare the meeting to be invalidand say they will meet only with Obama to discuss the pipeline.

LEGAL AND LEGISLATIVE BATTLES AT THE FEDERAL LEVEL and in Nebraska kept Keystone XL in limbo, even after the State Department issued a final EIS disregarding the pipeline’s impact on global warming. Under pressure to act on the pipeline, which became a partisan issue in the mid-term elections, Obama stalled on making an executive order. When a pro-pipeline bill forced his hand, Obama delivered the veto the climate movement was waiting for. Then Keystone XL resurfaced in Donald Trump’s presidential campaign.

January 2014 After a five-year review process, the State Department releases its final EIS, stating: “Approval of any single project is unlikely to significantly affect the rate of extraction of the oil from the oil sands or the refining of heavy crude on the U.S. Gulf Coast.”

The southern section of the pipeline, from Cushing to Texas refineries on the Gulf, goes into operation.

YES! Illustration by Jennifer Luxton
Feb. 19, 2014 Nebraska judge rules that the governor’s approval of pipeline over the objections of landowners was unconstitutional. The state says it will appeal the decision.
March 29, 2014 The Rosebud Sioux Spirit Camp, a circle of tipis presenting physical and spiritual resistance to the path of Keystone XL, is opened.
April 18, 2014 The State Department suspends the regulatory process indefinitely, citing uncertainty about the court case in Nebraska.
April 22-27, 2014 The Cowboy Indian Alliance and others gather in Washington, D.C. for Reject and Protect, five days of protest. The event includes a horse ride, a tipi encampment on the National Mall, and presentations by leaders from the Oglala, Rosebud, Standing Rock, Yankton, and Cheyenne River Sioux Tribes, and the Tsleil-Waututh First Nation of British Colombia.
Sept 21, 2014 Indigenous peoples and frontline communities from around the world lead the People’s Climate March in NYC. Held a few days before the U.N. Climate Summit, it is the biggest climate march in history.
Nov. 2-4, 2014
YES! Illustration by Jennifer Luxton

TransCanada says the costs of Keystone XL have grown from $5.4 billion to $8 billion and requests a temporary suspension of its application. The U.S. government rejects the request.

November 2014 The House of Representatives votes in favor of Keystone XL—a treaty violation and an “act of war,” according to Rosebud Sioux tribal president Cyril Scott, who says the tribe will never allow the pipeline on their lands.

The Senate votes against the northern portion of Keystone XL. Midterm elections turn a majority of seats in Congress over to Republicans, who vow to push the pipeline ahead.

Jan. 9, 2015 The Nebraska Supreme Court strikes down a lower-court ruling that found land seizures to be unconstitutional.
Jan. 29, 2015 The U.S. Senate approves a bill to build Keystone XL.
Feb. 24, 2015 Obama vetoes the bill, citing concerns about climate change.
Nov. 6, 2015 The Obama administration rejects TransCanada’s application to build the Keystone XL pipeline.
YES! Illustration by Jennifer Luxton
Jan. 6, 2016 TransCanada files a claim under NAFTA against the U.S. government’s rejection of Keystone XL. The company also files a federal lawsuit in Texas.
YES! Illustration by Jennifer Luxton
May 26, 2016 Republican presidential contender Donald Trump vows to approve Keystone XL if elected, a pledge he repeats several times during the campaign.
April 2016 Water protectors, many of them teenagers, start Sacred Stone Camp to resist the Dakota Access Pipeline, which threatens the water supply for the Standing Rock Sioux reservation in North Dakota. The camp grows into a historic gathering of tribes. Thousands of supporters are drawn to Standing Rock over months of resistance despite a militarized police response.
Nov. 8, 2016 Trump is elected president.
Jan. 24, 2017 Trump signs an executive order approving Keystone XL, but suggests the U.S. will renegotiate the terms of the project. He also signs an order requiring American pipelines to be built with U.S. steel.
YES! Illustration by Jennifer Luxton
March 24, 2017 President Trump issues a presidential permit for Keystone XL.

GOING FORWARD, ENVIRONMENTAL AND INDIGENOUS ACTIVISTS have vowed resistance in the path of the pipeline similar to that seen at Standing Rock. Dallas Goldtooth of the Indigenous Environmental Network says South Dakota’s Cheyenne River Sioux and Rosebud Sioux tribes will provide space for resistance spirit camps.

January 2017 Climate activists stage sit-ins and demonstrations calling on banks to divest from oil pipelines.
February 2017 The Cheyenne River and Yankton Sioux tribes, Intertribal Council on Utility Policy (COUP), Indigenous Environmental Network, Dakota Rural Action, and others file an appeal against the South Dakota’s Public Utilities Commission decision to grant TransCanada a renewal permit.
March 2017 Organizations including the Northern Plains Resource Council, Bold Alliance, and the NRDC file a federal lawsuit in Montana challenging the permit and environmental approvals.
April 2017 Seattle’s city council votes to avoid banking with backers of Keystone XL.
May 2017 Tribal nations from British Columbia to Oklahoma sign the “Declaration Opposing Oil Sands Expansion and the Construction of the Keystone-XL Pipeline” in Calgary, Ontario.

Opposition in Nebraska remains focused and well-organized. Every proposed Keystone XL route in Nebraska would run through territory with sites important to the Ponca tribe, which opposes the pipeline.

Over the summer, the Nebraska Public Service Commission will hear from individuals and groups who applied for intervener status in the review of TransCanada’s permit to run Keystone XL through the state: 93 landowners, the Ponca Tribe and Sioux Tribe of Nebraska, Bold Alliance, the Nebraska Sierra Club, labor unions, and 35 other individuals. The commission’s decision is due at the end of August.


Poster: Hope Is in the Streets Why Grassroots Resistance Is Our Only Hope

Protesters at the foot of Trump tower in Chicago

As Donald Trump’s administration digs itself deeper and deeper into trouble, many people are looking to the corporate media, the FBI, the judicial system, or other recognized authorities to resolve this situation. Yet every effective measure against Trump and his cronies has begun with grassroots efforts. Even if he is deposed by other elements within the state, it will only further legitimize the structures through which politicians like him are able to do so much damage in the first place, setting the stage for other politicians to continue carrying out the same activities. Our freedom and safety will not be assured until we can defend them ourselves, through direct action, without need of leaders or representation. To drive home this point, we’ve prepared a poster, which we encourage you to print out, mass-produce, and put up in the streets where you live.

Hope Is in the Streets poster, full color version

Hope Is in the Streets poster, black and white version

Resistance Is the Front Lines of Hope

When Donald Trump was elected President of the United States, anarchists and other opponents of the state swung into action. While liberals and party leftists were still reeling, anarchists immediately called for combative demonstrations at the outset of the Trump regime, and took to the streets alongside other angry people to show that business as usual would be impossible under Trump.

In the first days of Trump’s administration, countless people came together in courageous acts of resistance, confronting the authorities and shutting down airports and other infrastructure. This succeeded in breaking the ruling class consensus around Trump, destabilizing his administration and undermining its efforts to shift the US government from a neoliberal strategy for managing capitalism to an overtly nationalist strategy. Had resistance continued at that intensity, neoliberalism, too, might have been in danger.

Unfortunately, this momentum was a victim of its own success. As soon as it achieved a few victories, good liberals began to stay home watching the news and “liking” things on Facebook rather than putting their bodies on the line. Meanwhile, realizing that his initial strategy had failed, Trump demoted nationalist advisor Steve Bannon, ordered an airstrike in Syria, and tried to cozy up to the neoliberal elements of the deep state. If he succeeds in doing so, he will be able to push through his racist, nationalist agenda under the cover of ordinary governance, just as Obama did.

It’s naïve to hope that CNN, the FBI, or the Democratic Party will thwart Trump’s authoritarian ambitions. They are just as essential to the power structure as Trump himself, just as complicit in its functioning. Grassroots resistance has been the only thing that has succeeded in putting the brakes on Trump’s advance. Every victory against him has begun with people taking action on their own initiative. If we hadn’t blockaded the airports, would any judge have had the guts to block the Muslim ban? If we hadn’t flooded the streets, would White House employees have taken the risk of leaking information?

Going forward, we must remember the lessons of the opening of the Trump era: that even in the face of the most powerful empire in the history of the world, we have tremendous power, as long as we don’t look to others to act in our place. Together, we can take back our lives and disable the institutions through which our rulers seek to dominate us. No party, politician, or organization can do this for us. Let’s become ungovernable and free.

This text was submitted to the 2018 Certain Days: Freedom for Political Prisoners Calendar in recognition of their important work to support political prisoners throughout North America for nearly two decades now.


Is there a neo-Nazi storm brewing in Trump country?

Can national socialism, repackaged as ‘white identity’ politics, earn votes in rural counties that voted for Trump?


When the men in black walked into her restaurant one Friday morning and sat at the round table in the corner, Brittany Porter knew exactly what they were.

Pale, skittish, aggressively tattooed, they wore black T-shirts with a cryptic white logo over their hearts. One had a razor inked along his left jaw and two SS lightning bolts dripping next to his eye like a double set of tears. One wore a handgun on his hip.

Porter went to the table, smiled and asked what they wanted. It was just after 8am. Two of the neo-Nazis ordered chicken nuggets.

On Facebook the night before, Porter read about the group of racists who were coming to eastern Kentucky to hold a rally. They had chosen an economically struggling stretch of coal country with a population that was 98% white and that had voted 80% for Trump. In their propaganda videos, the neo-Nazi leaders had talked about the scourge of drug addiction in Pike County.

At 30, Porter knew Pike County’s problems. She herself was a recovered addict, as was her friend Chrissy Wooton, another waitress at the restaurant. Neither of them trusted either political party. Wooton, whose husband is a coal miner, had voted for Trump. Porter had not.

Together, they discussed whether they should start the day by accidentally pouring coffee into the neo-Nazis’ laps.

The neo-Nazis were on their way to Whitesburg, Kentucky, where they had secured a private piece of land in the woods to hold a weekend summit with a coalition of other white nationalist groups. At the table, there were several members of the Traditionalist Workers party, including Jason, a sallow musician in a black-metal punk band who left New York City to move to a mostly white community in Indiana; Scott, who had recently been kicked out of an Irish pub in Kentucky for celebrating Hitler’s birthday; and Gabe, diffident and a little shy, with long eyelashes and the white power tattoos on his cheek.

Porter and Wooton watched from distance, swooping in now and then to refill the coffee cups. But they were too curious to stay quiet. Porter said people on Facebook “were talking a bunch of crap”. They were saying that the group was the Ku Klux Klan.

Wooton asked again more bluntly: “Are you guys KKK?”

The event the men were attending did, in fact, have KKK members on the list of potential guests. But the men at the table laughed and grinned. They were a political party, Matthew Heimbach, the group’s 26-year-old leader, explained gently. “Our motto is faith, family and folk,” he said. Heimbach was the most famous man at the table: the one who was being sued for shoving and shouting at a young black protester at a Donald Trump campaign rally last March, and who had recently filed legal papers saying that Trump, who had reacted to the protesters by shouting “Get ‘em out of here!”, should be held responsible for his behavior.

Heimbach was wearing the same black T-shirt, with his party’s logo, as the other men, but he had a big cross around his neck and the cheerful bearing of a youth pastor: burly, bearded, bouncy with enthusiasm. One Kentucky local who watched a propaganda video Heimbach made had been perplexed that he looked like a teddy bear.

Their political party had been misrepresented, Heimbach explained to the waitresses. They’re not the KKK. They’re focused on family and faith and local control, on fighting the international corporations who came into Appalachia and took all the profits from Kentucky’s coal. Heimbach did not try to sell the waitresses on his plan for a white ethno-state, his conviction that the Holocaust did not happen, his belief in thousands of years of Jewish conspiracy. He just talked about family struggles and immigrants taking jobs and hurting workers and how white Americans needed more representation.

Wooton, who had voted for Trump, was responding enthusiastically. She was furious at the lack of government response to the opioid addiction crisis and skeptical of establishment politicians. Her husband, a coal miner, had lost his job under Obama and been hired again three days after Trump’s inauguration. Wooton came back to the table repeatedly to press Heimbach for more answers, explaining her manager was still calling him a racist. She asked if Heimbach was willing to work with people of other races. He said of course he was. He talked about the importance of black communities making decisions for themselves, about how black policemen might be better at policing black neighborhoods. Wooton agreed and agreed again.

Talking to Wooton, Heimbach acted like a local politician: polite, a little longwinded, but genuinely passionate. He was not Richard Spencer, the clean-cut, rich-boy racist who got punched in the face at Trump’s inauguration. He was not a ranting internet troll. He was a small-town kid who put himself through college selling custom wardrobe tidying systems, and now he was using those skills trying to sell fascism to the American people.

Heimbach’s Pike County trip was part of his broader preparation for 2018, when the party was planning to field six candidates in local elections for school board, county council and other positions in Indiana, Kentucky, Tennessee, North Dakota and Texas. All the candidates will be under 30, all open white nationalists, though they plan to focus their campaigns on more local issues.

Wooton kept coming back with more questions, but it was clear that she liked much of what she she was hearing. When she left the table, Heimbach grinned triumphantly at his group; it seemed he was attracting some local support.

Stepping from the shadows

White supremacists and neo-Nazis complain endlessly about media lies, and yet no one is more eager to pick up the phone than Heimbach and other extremist leaders. Getting attention – even negative attention – helps them recruit and inch toward the mainstream.

Analysts from the Data & Society Research Institute concluded the far right has risen to new prominence this past year in part by “attention hacking”, manipulating the conventions of mainstream news. Members of the “alt-right”, a mixed group of racists, nationalists, antisemites and misogynists, understand that many news stories are built on a framework of conflict and outrage, fueled by the power of a shocking image or the lure of a supposedly telling contrast. “The media’s dependence on social media, analytics and metrics, sensationalism, novelty over newsworthiness, and clickbait makes them vulnerable,” its report said.

People who have had personal run-ins with Heimbach – who have experienced him in action – say the media should not simply ignore his activities. Instead of glamorizing them or portraying them as cartoonish monsters, scrutiny should attempt to reveal their impact.

However, one anti-fascist observed, it doesn’t matter if the news coverage attempts to be negative – neo-Nazis will still try to recruit people in the comments section underneath.

Measured in numbers, white nationalists and neo-Nazis remain the fringe of the fringe. Last year’s BronyCon, the annual conference of grown men who take an ironic fascination in the cartoon My Little Pony, attracted 7,600 people. Anthrocon, a convention of “furries” who like to do fun things while wearing fuzzy, full-body animal costumes, attracted more than 7,000. The Kentucky neo-Nazi summit in April attracted about 150 people, about 75 of them members of the Traditionalist Worker party. Heimbach claims that his party has 600 dues-paying members nationwide. They do not call themselves Nazis. Heimbach said the term Nazi is a slur, and that he draws inspiration from many fascist and national socialist regimes, not just Germany’s.

Heimbach said being labeled a Nazi would undermine his attempt to educate the American people about “what national socialism truly is”, claiming it invokes “every lie and every over-the-top media creation of the last 72 years [since 1945]”.

Ryan Lenz, an analyst at the Southern Poverty Law Center, which tracks American hate groups, sees no justification for his argument. It is fair to label Heimbach a Nazi because he is an avowed national socialist, Holocaust denier and antisemite.

“In this context, Nazi is not a slur. It’s not an attack. It’s an accurate description,” he said.

Neo-Nazi activism in America has been undermined for decades by what both extremist leaders and hate group monitors describe as incredibly childish infighting. Neo-Nazis have squabbled over their religious differences (some are Christian; others are pagans, some worshipping the Norse god Odin; one or two, a Neo-Nazi leader claimed, are even Buddhist), over their uniform and symbol choices, over which neo-Nazi stole which other neo-Nazi’s girlfriend.

“Most of these people are malignant contrarians who have a lot of loyalty and trust issues,” said Lenz.

But Trump’s rise to power has encouraged the extremists to try to bridge their divides. Neo-Nazis and Ku Klux Klan leaders were jubilant over an openly xenophobic, politically incorrect presidential candidate who promised to stop illegal immigration and enact a Muslim ban – and they have pursued news coverage, attracting headlines and staging dramatic photos. In May, a number of different groups met in front of a threatened Confederate monument and set garden torches on fire. In the photos, shared around the world, a mass of shadowy figures and flames made for a startling image.

Campus provocateur

Matthew Heimbach

Heimbach has been perfecting the provocative art since he first made national headlines in 2012 by founding a White Student Union at his university, the perfectly logical complement to the campus’ Black Student Union, he said. Towson University, where he graduated in 2013, was majority white. It was one of the safest public universities in Maryland, but Heimbach would lead journalists around campus at night as he and his friends patrolled with flashlights in search of black crime.

When students and faculty protested this behavior, Heimbach claimed the rallies against him were proof of anti-white bias. The outrage brought in television cameras and left his classmates of color deeply anxious.

“People were afraid of Matthew,” said Ignacio Evans, a former classmate and the vice-president of the Black Student Union at the time.

At a campus town hall meeting, Evans recalled, Heimbach had said: “I am going to bleed this university white.”

“It sent shockwaves through the campus,” Evans said. As a result of Heimbach’s activism, he thought attendance at campus events dropped. People didn’t want to leave their rooms.

Everyone knew Heimbach had a gun. “It wouldn’t be uncommon to see him in a video shooting things,” he said.

Evans countered Heimbach’s views publicly – and, as a result, he was featured on white supremacist websites, one of which dubbed him a “black supremacist”.

Evans said he had received a death threat at his college graduation, and walked across the stage fearing that he would be shot in front of his mother and his girlfriend.

Jonathan Munshaw, who covered Heimbach’s early tactics for the Towson student newspaper, said he only ever verified one Towson student who was part of the White Student Union: Heimbach himself. But students on campus truly believed that the group was much bigger, Munshaw said – and they were terrified.

To the national media, the campus conflict was irresistible. “Matt was so accessible,” Munshaw said. “The national media outlets could come in and it was fairly easy for them to get a story because he was always very willing and ready.”

It was the perfect recipe for a television segment: the white supremacist, the black students arguing against him. “It was an easy story,” Munshaw said.

Trump: the ‘gateway drug’ to white nationalism

The Aryan Terror Brigade. The National Socialist Movement. The neo-Confederate League of the South. After he graduated from college, Heimbach met and formed alliances with so many different extremists groups that Lenz, the SPLC analyst, said he once thought Heimbach “might be an informant of the federal government”.

Heimbach serves as a lynchpin between the scattered groups of the radical right – the one who can build connections with “the working-class skinhead movement and the upper-class academic racists”, said Lenz, who has been interviewing Heimbach periodically since he graduated from college.

His argument, Lenz said, is: we’re all compatriots in nationalism, and therefore we should stand together, whether we believe in the Holocaust or not.

Heimbach had only been a white nationalist in college. But supporters of his White Student Union responded by sending him books in the mail that helped shift his views about the Holocaust. “At the end of the day,” he said, “you end up at national socialism.”

Lenz said he does not know how Heimbach, who says he is forced to work low-paying jobs, can afford to travel constantly across the country and fly to Europe every year to meet with far-right groups. He said Heimbach had denied having a wealthy patron who funded the trips. Heimbach said he paid for the trips himself, with some contribution from his party, and that he kept costs low by staying with other far-right activists.

“I’ve been waiting for my rubles to show up. It hasn’t happened yet,” he said, chuckling, referencing “more than a few media outlets that have claimed I’m secretly working for the FSB”.

By the month before Trump’s election, Heimbach had shifted gears and developed a new message discipline “capable of spinning answers to questions like someone who had spent years in a spin room”, Lenz said.

Trump was Heimbach’s dream come true. In early 2016, Heimbach had described the presidential candidate as the “gateway drug” to outright white nationalism.

“He’s not one of us and everyone needs to know that,” Heimbach told the site Vocativ last year, describing the president. “But he’s opening political space. He’s definitely opening up political space for people like ourselves.”

On 1 March 2016, Heimbach and some of his party members attended a Trump campaign rally in Louisville, Kentucky. Heimbach was wearing a red “Make America Great Again” hat. Almost immediately, he and his group caught the attention of a Trump protester in the crowd.

“For a second, I thought they were counter-protesters [against Trump]. They looked like punk rock kids,” the protester said. Then she realized: “No, those are skinheads.”

The protester asked not to be named to avoid attacks from far-right trolls. She described watching Heimbach move through the crowd before the speech, handing out literature, trying to recruit Trump supporters for his Traditionalist Worker movement. He was circumspect, as usual, talking about workers losing jobs.

“I don’t think I ever even heard him say the word white,” she said. Instead, it was: “‘People are coming in, close the border, and they’re taking our jobs and our communities’ – it was very dog whistle-y.

“Nobody gave him any flak about it,” the protester said. “He wasn’t getting any pushback.”

In retrospect, she thought, Heimbach helped in revving up the crowd, priming it for what came later.

When the protester’s group finally raised their banners toward the end of Trump’s speech, Heimbach’s group immediately rushed them, not just to tear down their anti-Trump banner but also to punch them, several protesters alleged in a lawsuit. The onslaught “was so intense and violent” that the protester, who was in the back, said she was overwhelmed.

The protester said Heimbach and his group had insinuated their way into the middle of the crowd, and when a moment of tension arrived they suddenly turned violent, and other men around them mirrored their behavior, shouting, pushing, furious.

Trump, from the stage, had called: “Get ’em out!”

A video from the rally shows Heimbach, in his hat, repeatedly laying hands on a young black protester, Kashiya Nwanguma, and shouting in her face. Next, an older man in a Korean war veterans uniform shoves her, follows her for a few steps and shoves her again.

Three protesters are now suing Heimbach and a Korean war veteran over this violence – and suing Trump for inciting the violence.

A federal judge recently ruled that the case could move forward, writing: “It is plausible that Trump’s direction to ‘Get ’em out of here’ advocated the use of force.”

In a letter to the head of a Korean war veterans chapter, the veteran, Alvin Bamberger, apologized and said he was ashamed of his behavior, according to a copy of the letter obtained by a local news outlet. He blamed his behavior on being caught between black protesters and white supremacists, though he acknowledged that was no excuse.

In a blogpost afterward, cited in court filings, Heimbach wrote: “There’s some viral footage of several heated moments in Louisville. One features yours truly helping the crowd drive out one of the women who had been pushing, shoving, barking, and screaming at the attendees for the better part of an hour.” ( In court filings, Nwanguma denied she had done this.)

“It won’t be me next time, but White Americans are getting fed up and they’re learning that they must either push back or be pushed down,” Heimbach wrote.

In court filings, he had denied that he behave improperly, but also argued that Trump should be held responsible for his behavior.

Heimbach was charged with harassment, a misdemeanor, and was recently served a summons to appear in court.


For decades, American neo-Nazis have been trying to break into the mainstream by running for local political office, as Heimbach is now hoping his supporters can do. George Lincoln Rockwell, the head of the American Nazi party, told a journalist in 1966 that he expected he would be elected president by 1972 on a national socialist ticket, pushed to victory by a dramatic economic collapse. Instead, he was murdered by one of his own supporters outside a laundromat in 1967.

Far-right parties in Europe have had more political success. Amid the Greek debt crisis in 2015, Golden Dawn, a violent neo-Nazi party known for beating attacks on immigrants and people suspected of being gay or on the left, captured the third largest number of seats in the Greek parliament.

American neo-Nazis look at Golden Dawn’s rise and take hope. Heimbach has met with far-right nationalists across Europe, he said, including three visits with Golden Dawn over the past three years.

“There will come a point where the people begin to awaken. [Golden Dawn] had to go through many years as a dedicated small group of men and women to carry the flame,” Heimbach said.

He has also met with nationalist activists in the Czech Republic and spoke last year at the annual conference of Germany’s National Democratic party. He calls himself a friend of the British neo-Nazi group National Action, which was banned in December after the home secretary dubbed it a terrorist organization.

Heimbach has also been banned from entering the UK “on the grounds that your presence here would not be conducive to the public good”. In response, he tweeted it was outrageous that he was denied while “radical” Muslims were let in. “#EnglandYoureDrunk”, he wrote.

Heimbach can put on a show of moderation. He doesn’t think everyone should have to live in a white ethno-state. That’s just his preference. He doesn’t hate other races. He just thinks that black Americans have, on average, a “lower future time orientation”.

In interviews and speeches to other neo-Nazis, Heimbach is less circumspect, quoting Goebbels and speaking fondly of Mussolini.

He is a Holocaust denier, believing that the systematic murder of 6 million European Jews by the Nazi regime did not happen, that it’s all a “Bolshevik conspiracy”. He has expressed sympathy for the racist killer Dylann Roof and praised white supremacist Norwegian mass murderer Anders Breivik.

Real Christianity, he said, is “patriarchal, homophobic, racist and antisemitic”. He laughed. “I see that as a good thing.”

Heimbach lives in Paoli, Indiana, with his wife and son; his fellow party leader, Matt Parrott; and Jason, the young white nationalist who moved from New York City to join him and who now edits his video projects and produces white nationalist music. Three other white families who support their views have moved to Paoli to join them, Heimbach said – two from northern Indiana, one from Virginia. They try to get together weekly for board game nights and home-brewed mead. They play Risk – “of course, the battle of world domination” – and Cards Against Humanity.

“We played Monopoly, but then we decided that was too capitalist,” Heimbach said.

Almost none of the consequences he has faced for his activism seem to faze him. Heimbach says he was excommunicated by his Eastern Orthodox church for his racist beliefs. His family cut him off after he became famous for founding the White Student Union. By his count he has been fired from seven jobs, including a position as a trainee case worker at the Indiana department of child services. He claimed this was a punishment for his political convictions.

A spokeswoman for the department wrote in an e-mail Heimbach was “dismissed for his behavior at work” after less than three weeks as a trainee. “His behavior in training was disruptive of the workplace, incompatible with public service, and not protected speech,” she wrote. “For example, what I’ve been told is that, while in training, his response to a question suggested violence against a client.”

Since college, Heimbach has been able to draw other racists around him, forming a likeminded group that acknowledges him as a leader. Throughout hours of interviews he has a politician’s confidence, but when he talked about his family, he sounded sad.

“My parents didn’t exactly know what I was thinking or up to. I think in modern America, [there are] a tremendous amount of parents who would be horrified and scandalized with what their young sons and daughters are reading on white nationalist forums or reading on the Daily Stormer,” he said.

After the coverage of his White Student Union, his family – who did not respond to requests for an interview for this article – confronted him in a phone conversation.

“My folks said that they didn’t raise me like this, that they didn’t approve of this and that I had to make a choice, if I was going to do this or choose my family. And I said to them, this is choosing my family, because I want my siblings and their grandchildren to have a future. They didn’t understand.”

The rise of Nazi thought in America could change that, he said. “Hopefully, as politics changes, as our ideas continue to grow, hopefully we’ll be the new mainstream before too long.”

“I’m not bitter and resentful,” he said later. “It hurts – like, it’s not easy – but it’s the safest thing for them to do.”

On maneuvers

The night before their rally in downtown Pikeville, the neo-Nazis gathered on a scruffy patch of private land to eat picnic food and listen to each other give speeches about the future of the white race.

That evening, a convoy of about 20 cars had wound from the parking lot of a Walmart through narrow Kentucky back roads, past small houses flying the Confederate flag. White residents stood at their front doors or on their porches, watching silently as the cars passed.

Members of the KKK, the Traditionalist Worker party and the National Socialist Movement gathered for a weekend of speeches, demonstration and fellowship at a private campground in Whitesburg, Kentucky.

The road turned from pavement to dusty gravel to dirt. In the field at the top of a hill, there was a white rental tent, rows of cars, a portable toilet. Young men in paramilitary-style black outfits strode around the tent, armed with rifles and walkie-talkies.

The dress code for the white supremacist unity summit in April was strict: men were supposed to wear “a black work shirt, black pants, and black boots; with an organizational patch on the left arm. Women are requested to dress modestly and in black as well.”

Heimbach had allowed a small group of journalists to attend the Whitesburg neo-Nazi summit, including the Guardian and a French television crew, to attend part of the weekend’s private speeches. He claimed that he had turned down other larger American outlets, disliking their coverage.

In the tent, decorated with a White Lives Matter banner, the neo-Nazis slammed Trump for claiming he was both a nationalist and a globalist, and for keeping so many Jewish people as advisers. But they said they still hoped that the movement he had started would give them a political opportunity.

“Reform is impossible,” Heimbach declared in his speech. Heimbach assailed the removal of Confederate monuments, comparing politicians who permitted monuments to white supremacy being taken down to Isis destroying temples in Syria.

“How long is it before the statues to Union soldiers are torn down, because, well, they weren’t multicultural enough they weren’t as accepting of transgender rights for children … they weren’t progressive enough?

“How long before not just the south but every symbol of our people is wiped clean from this Earth like we never existed?”

Heimbach’s speech was well received. But as the night went on, the divide between the traditional neo-Nazi groups and the new, internet-savvy “alt-right” began to show. The speeches grew so dull, despite the periodic Nazi salutes and chants of white power, that most of the younger extremists melted away into the dark, leaving a smaller and smaller audience to listen to old Nazis drone on.

On Saturday morning, they conducted a series of military marching exercises at their retreat. The man leading the exercises advised the group that perception is reality. Coming across as disciplined and tough and organized were crucial to their mission. But the drilling went poorly. One young man, obeying the order to turn, stepped boldly the wrong way.

That afternoon, the neo-Nazis managed to be an hour late to their own protest in downtown Pikeville. More than 100 anti-fascists in bandanas had arrived by 2pm, when the rally was supposed to start. There was no sign of Heimbach and his crew.

When the larger group of more than 100 people marched in, they were in good spirits, waving flags and carrying hand-painted wooden shields with fascist symbols and, in one case, a real axe, bundled with sticks, a home-made symbol of fascism. Heimbach bounced through the scrum in his sensible shoes, helping to organize his followers into neat lines. Despite the howls of the plastic trumpets and the chants of the anti-fascists and the long lines of state police on the other side of the barricades, he moved with no sense of drama, as if he were a high school coach organizing his kids at an away game.

Gabe, the one with the razor tattooed on his jaw, was in the front row, holding a shield and clearly excited. “Fuck you!” he bellowed at the protesters.

Scott, wearing a rifle and aviators, was standing nearby. “Gabe!” he hissed in a warning tone. Gabe subsided.

“Take a bath! Take a bath!” the fascists chanted at the anti-fascists.

The attendees were trained on marching in formation by the handful of military veterans in the group.The attendees were trained on marching in formation by the handful of military veterans in the group.

Heimbach’s public speech was heavy on the socialism and light on conspiracy theories, denouncing corporate interests and environmental degradation, endorsing worker unions and “nationalization of key industries”.

“The Republicans and the Democrats support Wall Street, they support more wars, they support your blood being spilled for their sake,” he said, over the sounds of shouts and jeers and horns.

“We are here to tell you: you don’t have to choose the lesser of two evils. You can choose people that are actually on your side. Because we are you. We are the people you go to church with, you see in the grocery story, you work with.”

At one point, the men gave the Nazi salute and chanted for at least a minute: “Heil Heimbach! Heil Heimbach! Heil Heimbach!”

Heimbach, who was standing near the front of the crowd, faced them and grinned. “I’m going to remember that the rest of my life,” he said, with just the right amount of irony.

The men laughed, a low rumble of approval lost beneath the screams of the crowd.

‘He thinks we’re stupid’

Pikeville was true Trump country, a rural area with permissive gun laws and strong conservative values.

In the political analysis of Trump voters, neo-Nazi advocates like Heimbach and some on the left tend to agree: Trump voters are a white identity movement, motivated to vote for him at least in part by outright racism, a claim Trump supporters vehemently reject.

The locals in Pikeville greeted the influx with outrage and shock. Outside a Pikeville tattoo parlor the day before the neo-Nazis were coming to town, a group of local men expressed disgust at the agenda and concern that the event would discourage students of different races from coming to the local university.

After their shift was over that Friday before the rally, Porter and Wooton were not finished talking about Heimbach’s breakfast visit to their diner. They went to a nearby Taco Bell to discuss him more. Wooton had loved what he was saying, loved his passion. But hearing that Heimbach supported a white ethno-state immediately ended her interest. Wooton has brothers who are mixed-race.

“If they’re saying they want an all-white community, where would my brother go?” she said. She was appalled by the idea of segregation: she did want more representation for white Americans, just like the representation she sees people who are black or Mexican receive. At the same time, she ultimately wanted political leaders for different racial groups to work together for the common good.

“That’s taking us a hundred years back,” Porter said. She had told the group that she was gay, and they had said nothing in response. The Traditionalist Worker party, with its endorsement of traditional marriage, its rhetoric about “deviants”, was not going to earn the vote of this white Kentucky woman. Porter’s girlfriend worked for a local prosecutor. She knew that the people charged with crimes in their area were overwhelmingly white.

Wooton was incredulous that Heimbach could be a Holocaust denier. “He’s so smart. He has to know better than that. There’s television footage of piles of bodies,” she said.

“They have a lot of really good ideas. It’s really sad that they just bring this racism,” she said.

She looked depressed. She had been hopeful that Heimbach was a politician who could actually bring help to their area. “He seems really really smart. He seems like he knows what he’s talking about on a lot of things. And this stupid racism that’s going to hold him back from so many things – he could do so many positive things.”

She was distressed. She could not understand it. “Maybe he’s a little mental,” she said. It was the only immediate explanation, that he had “a little mental problem that he can’t get past this racist thing”.

Both women were increasingly angry that Heimbach had chosen to come to Kentucky to spread his message.

“He’s targeting us,” Wooton said, “because he thinks that we’re stupid.”

“And he’s wrong about that,” Porter said.

Black politician ‘threatened with lynching’ after calling for Donald Trump’s impeachment


Al Green spoke out against US President, accusing him of ‘obstruction of justice’

By Lucy Pasha-Robinson @lucypasha

Donald Trump supporters reportedly threatened to “lynch” an African-American politician who called for the US President to be impeached.

Democrat representative Al Green said he had been menaced with threatening phone calls after he took to the House floor to accuse Mr Trump of “obstruction of justice”.

He reportedly played a number of voicemails that had been left by supporters of the Republican leader at a town hall meeting in Houston, but told the crowd he would not be deterred by the messages.

“We are not going to be intimidated. We are not going to allow this to cause us to deviate from what we believe to be the right thing to do and that is to proceed with the impeachment of President Trump,” he said, according to the Houston Chronicle.

One caller reportedly threatened him with a racial slur before saying he would be “hanging from a tree” if he continues to push for Mr Trump’s impeachment.

“When a person talks about lynching you, we think that’s a pretty serious threat,” Mr Green said.

Mr Green was the first member of congress to call for Mr Trump’s impeachment on the House floor earlier this, citing the Republican leader’s dismissal of FBI Director James Comey as one of the primary reasons.

“The President fired the FBI Director who was investigating him and said he did it because of the investigation,” he said. “That’s pretty serious. That’s obstruction of justice. We believe no person is above the law, not even the President of the United States of America.”

It comes as a source close to Mr Comey said the former FBI director is now convinced Mr Trump was trying to influence his investigation into Russian collusion in his presidential campaign.


Arrests on civil immigration charges are up 38% in 100 days since Trump’s executive order

By Nigel Duara

Federal immigration agents have arrested more than 40,000 people since President Trump signed executive orders expanding the scope of deportation priorities in January, a 38% increase over the same period last year.

Immigration and Customs Enforcement acting Director Thomas Homan said Wednesday that Trump has “opened the aperture” of charges that immigration agents are permitted to prosecute, a departure fromObama administration priorities which targeted immigrants in the country illegally who have serious criminal convictions.

“There is no category of aliens off the table,” Homan said.

In late January, Trump stripped away most restrictions on who should be deported. A Los Angeles Times analysis revealed that more than 8 million people who crossed the border illegally could now be considered priorities for deportation.

Trump’s orders instruct federal agents to deport not only those convicted of crimes, but also those who aren’t charged but are believed to have committed “acts that constitute a chargeable criminal offense.”

The new numbers, released in a press call with reporters, suggest that Trump’s pledge to step up deportations is bearing fruit, at least in some parts of the country.

Although the president’s plan to build an expanded new wall on the Mexican border has been stymied – Congress refused to include funding for it in a recent budget deal – his new border security priorities appear to be having a significant impact on immigration enforcement.

According to calculations by Los Angeles Times, as many as 8 million people living in the country illegally could be considered priorities for deportation under Trump’s new policy. Under the Obama administration, about 1.4 million people were considered priorities for removal.

The stepped-up immigration arrests have not been reflected in Southern California, where the detention rate has remained relatively flat, and agents say they have done little to change their enforcement strategy.

Homan said that, in his estimation, federal agents are happier with Trump’s directives than they were under Obama’s more cautious approach.

“When officers are allowed to do their jobs, morale increases,” said Homan, who also served under Obama. “I think morale is up.”

Homan said the paucity of people trying to enter the country illegally, a number which has reached a record low, means agents have more time to spend on removals from the nation’s interior.

According to the new ICE data, nearly 75 percent of those arrested in the 100 days since Trump signed his new executive orders on immigration are convicted criminals, with offenses ranging from homicide and assault to sexual abuse and drug-related charges.

But there has also been a significant increase in the number of non-criminals arrested. A total of 10,800 people were arrested whose only offense was entering the country illegally, more than twice the 4,200 such immigrants taken into custody in the first four months of 2016.

“While these data clearly reflect the fact that convicted criminals are an immigration enforcement priority, Homeland Security Secretary John F. Kelly has made it clear that ICE will no longer exempt any class of individuals from removal proceedings if they are found to be in the country illegally,” the agency said in its report.

Migrant advocates were quick to condemn the administration’s priorities.

Addressing claims by John F. Kelly, Trump’s secretary of Homeland Security, that the administration is only focusing on criminals, and Wednesday’s numbers, Frank Sharry, executive director of America’s Voice Education Fund, said the majority of people targeted cannot be considered “serious criminals.”

“These guys spin, distort, exaggerate, and dissemble almost as much as the president they work for,” Sharry said. “The false claims are aimed at providing cover for an agenda that calls for the deportation of millions. Instead of targeting serious criminals, they are targeting every immigrant they can get their hands on and calling all of them criminals.”

While deportations of migrants caught near the border are generally a quick matter, Homan said, the removal processes for so-called “interior deportations” take longer. He expects the overall pace of removal proceedings to slow down as fewer border crossers are removed and interior deportations make up a larger share of all removals.

Without providing specific numbers, Homan said assaults on federal agents conducting arrests are up 150% over the same period last year. Homan attributes the increase to “noncompliance” — meaning actively resisting arrest.

Federal agents must also contend with jails that refuse to allow ICE agents inside. Such jails contend that immigration enforcement is outside the scope of their duties, and some also say the presence of immigration enforcement agents adversely affects relations with local migrant communities.

Homan said jails that do not allow ICE agents inside to make arrests force the agents to capture migrants on the street, a far more dangerous and expensive proposition.

“If the jail lets them go, we have to send a team of officers,” Homan said. “One officer can make a safe arrest inside a facility. If the jail doesn’t cooperate, we have to go get them.”

Edited For

Deputy Assistant to the President Sebastian Gorka is a Fascist

Sebastian Gorka is a Neo-Nazi — semantics aside his ideology makes him a Nazi — his collaborating ideological brethren trace directly back to Hitler. As the Hungarian Free Press writes on March 6, 2017: On October 19, 2003 Tamás Molnár (later far-right Jobbik Party’s Vice Chairman) organized an event in the Hungarian city of Visegrád to discuss the future […]

via Deputy Assistant to the President Sebastian Gorka is a Fascist — Anti-Fascist News