Addressing a Critical Weakness in the Alt-Right

“When you’re literally fighting since you’re sixteen years old, and getting shot at, and getting stabbed, and getting jumped because you’re fighting for your heritage, and some punks get online talking this and that, and then they tell you, when you’ve been on the cross, that you’re a degenerate because you’ve watched porn or you’ve smoked a cigarette – who the fuck are these punks? You wouldn’t last a day in my shoes.” – Luke Lawless

 

In the past two years, the Great American Doxxing Phenomenon has swept the country from coast-to-coast. Activists and supporters in the Alt-Right have had their names, phone numbers, addresses, and employers posted online. The same information has been plastered on flyers all over their hometowns.

 

They have been fired from their jobs because their managers were harassed by the Antifa. Their landlords, their families, their friends have all been similarly beleaguered. I have even known a couple families who have had to deal with child protective services when rabid leftists called to tell them that a child was being raised by evil, abusive, brainwashing Nazis.

 

To all this, I say, “Good.” I’m glad this is happening. And let me tell you why.

 

I have a friend named Luke Lawless. He’s a former client from years ago and has become one of my best friends in this world as we’ve fought together in the trenches. Luke was a member of the American Front, a skinhead organization that was framed by the FBI for domestic terrorism in Central Florida. I became the lawyer for several members of the AF, including Luke, and my involvement with that case changed my life.

 

These folks were planning a counterdemonstration against Antifa at a May Day rally in 2012. When I took the case, I had no idea who the Antifa were; all I knew was that they were Communists. I hated Communists, and that was all I needed to know. I was on that case for almost four years by the time I presented oral arguments on appeal in February 2016.

 

Four days after oral arguments, I was in Portland. The Antifa had been threatening to assassinate me for several weeks, knowing that I was traveling to the West Coast on campaign. I never took it seriously. Luke warned me about what I was walking into. He said, “Don’t fuck around out there. In fact, you shouldn’t go at all. These people have shot us, stabbed us, put us in the fucking ground. You are not prepared for this. They are not joking, they will kill you.”

 

I brushed it aside, thinking Luke was being overdramatic. Besides, I’d love to have the chance at some commies. Back then, I had not yet had the real world experience that made me what I am today.

 

So I went to Portland. And sure as the sun would rise in the East, they did attack the meeting. They did it after everyone left, and I was alone and unarmed. If the police had not arrived at the very moment the Antifa began to swarm the bar, I might not be here today. Luke was right all along.

 

At the time, I was furious. But as days passed, then weeks, it began to dawn on me that my fury with the bar owners and bartenders and the police department and everyone else was misplaced. The real problem was that I had been unprepared. I was caught with my pants down, and there was no one to blame but myself. That venomous hatred I felt for everyone involved turned to a deep sense of appreciation: I learned a very real lesson that night.

 

That’s why I say, “Good,” when people get doxxed, when they are attacked, when they are fired, when they have to deal with government agencies because of lies told by Antifa. I say, “Good,” because now you know. It is no longer theoretical, or something that people complain about on the internet. Now it is real life for you, not a meme.

 

If we’re being honest, I wish it would happen to more people. I wish it would happen to the professionals. I wish it would happen to cops, to lawyers, to businesspersons, to rich, soccer-mom housewives and judges and the personnel of the Republican National Committee. Because if it started happening to those in power, and not just those of us who are activists on the far-right, they might come to understand what we are talking about.

 

Luke has been a skinhead for twenty-two years. He knows full well the reality of the situation. I had been a lawyer fighting against the government set-up of the American Front for four years and still did not fully understand the situation. And when Luke warned me, I didn’t listen.

 

When Charlottesville came around last year, Luke almost lost his mind. “What the fuck are these people doing?” he would ask me. “Why are they organizing this in public? This is an invitation for violence. They’re going to get everyone fucked up.” He spoke of the way the skinheads would have held an event back in the day. No one listened – and now they know better.

 

To Luke, these kids in the Alt-Right are grandbabies walking into the street because they don’t fully appreciate that a car will run them over. Since they came on the scene, skinheads like Luke have tried in vain, over and over and over, to warn them about the mistakes they are making. They refuse to listen, saying the old skinheads are all stupid blockheads who know nothin’ about nothin’. Which causes battle-hardened veterans like Luke to say, “If my voice isn’t being heard, why am I really here? These punks in the Alt-Right aren’t listening.”

 

For my part, the naiveté of the streets is still a recent memory. I am still very patient with those being doxxed and attacked and harassed, because it was not so long ago that I was in the same position. So when I hear about the mistakes people make in the right-wing, I say, “Good, now you’ve learned something. Do better next time.”

 

But the older veterans have become so disillusioned with the new kids on the block that they no longer want any part of a civil rights movement at all. It’s all fun & games to call the older folks boomers, especially when they are at least indirectly responsible for the problems in America and the West today – but discounting the experience and the advice of those who are actively trying to help you is a different story. Such a course is not just stupid, it is self-destructive.

 

I remember one nameless internet cowboy last year who criticized Dr. David Duke for showing up in Charlottesville. This old man, he said, should know how toxic he is to the movement, and he should make way for Richard Spencer and the younger crowd who are doing it right. The stupidity of that remark was so astounding that I remember it to this day, and I don’t even read comment threads. To say that someone should step aside, someone who has been fighting for the cause for longer than you have even been alive – well perhaps that’s how the Alt-Right got in this mess in the first place. 

 

The fact that I am neither a skinhead nor a white nationalist is immaterial. The fact is that these people have been fighting against the Communists in a very real way for generations. They were fighting Antifa in the streets before you and I were even born. At the very least, you need to listen to what they have to say, unless you want to keep getting caught with your pants down.

Augustus Invictus
​Augustus Invictus is a jurist, writer, and political activist in Orlando, Florida. Best known as a radical philosopher and social critic, Invictus is a right-wing libertarian and a member of the Republican Party. In 2016 he ran for the United States Senate in Florida as a Libertarian, and he is a former Chair of the Libertarian Party of Orange County.

Invictus earned his B.A. in Philosophy at the University of South Florida in Tampa and his J.D. at DePaul University College of Law in Chicago. Returning to his hometown of Orlando, he studied leadership at Rollins Crummer Graduate School of Business and opened the law firm for which he served as Managing Partner until his retirement from law practice.

A Southerner and a father of eight children, Invictus contends that revolutionary conservatism requires a shift in perspective from the exaltation of abstract ideologies to a focus on our families and communities.