Resistance or Terrorism?
Unpacking the Antifa Designation
In the storm that followed the President’s declaration of Antifa as a terrorist organization, the battle lines were drawn with predictable speed. However, as the dust begins to settle, it’s crucial to look beyond the political theater and examine the foundational questions this move raises. The debate was never really about a label; it's about the very architecture of American dissent, the limits of free speech, and the tools we grant the state to define its enemies.
The first and most significant hurdle for this designation is a practical one: What, precisely, is being designated? Unlike structured organizations such as Al-Qaeda or ISIS, with clear hierarchies and membership rolls, Antifa is a ghost. It is a decentralized, leaderless political movement—an ideology, not an institution. To grasp the stakes, one must understand the history its adherents see themselves as part of.
The history of antifascism is rooted in the monstrous undertaking of resisting totalitarianism in Europe. The German Antifascist movement, facing a fascist regime that controlled the media, infrastructure, and law enforcement, was forced to adopt guerrilla tactics. Passing information about the fascists' organization and how to effectively counter them often fell to solo actors carrying out acts of chaos and disruption. Despite a loose conclave of leftist groups, effective communication was nearly impossible. Many modern leftists argue that mainstream liberal groups like the Iron Front were too moderate and ultimately derailed the movement. But the simple, tragic fact is that it was too little too late; the Nazi machine had become unstoppable. In Italy and Spain, however, antifascists found more success in their long, bloody struggles against Mussolini and Franco.
This historical struggle informs the movement's view of modern American politics. From their perspective, the current crisis is the culmination of decades of decay. They see a lineage starting with Nixon, who set the stage for oligarchs to get their fingers into the government pot, followed by Reagan, who laid the groundwork for the political schisms we face in 2025. In this view, the complicity of "spineless corporate democrats" and neo-liberals helped erode democratic norms to a point where the system itself is now broken for good.
American Antifascists, who have been a presence since the entire country was antifascist during World War II, see this as a pivotal moment. The belief is that while the oligarchs and the far-right are loud, they are not the majority. The goal is direct action and the creation of chaos to disrupt a hostile takeover of the state. It's a conviction that it's not too late to stop them and, in the void that follows, build something new: a diverse, equitable, and inclusive society where a person's right to live isn't tied to their productivity. This is the core of the identity. This is what it means to be Antifascist.
It is this deeply held political identity that collides head-on with the government's attempt to apply a legalistic "terrorist" label. The American legal tradition makes a sharp distinction between violent action and repugnant ideology. We have robust laws to prosecute individuals for assault, arson, conspiracy, and property damage—regardless of their political motivations. A blanket "terrorist" designation, however, shifts the focus from criminal acts to political association. It risks creating a "chilling effect," where the fear of being labeled a terrorist discourages people from participating in legitimate, peaceful protests. This is the classic slippery slope. Suppose an ideology of the far left can be designated today. What prevents an ideology of the far-right, or environmental activists, or religious separatists from being designated tomorrow by a different administration?
Finally, we must ask: Cui bono? Who benefits? This declaration serves as a potent political instrument. It creates a monolithic, shadowy enemy that can be used to galvanize a political base and justify expanded state surveillance and power. It’s a classic divide-and-conquer strategy that flattens a complex political landscape into a simple binary: you are with us, or you are with the terrorists. This distracts from substantive policy debates and deepens the dangerous polarization that is fracturing the nation.
The path forward requires a return to first principles. We must reject the politically convenient act of labeling ideologies and instead focus on the difficult work of prosecuting illegal actions. Violence is violence, whether it comes from a black-clad protestor or a polo-shirted nationalist. Our existing legal framework is more than capable of handling these criminal acts without needing to invent new categories of thought-crime. The true test of a free society is not how it treats the speech it loves, but how it tolerates the speech it despises. The conversation shouldn't end with a label; it must begin with a defense of our fundamental principles, because as its proponents would argue, resistance is not terrorism.