Doomed to Repeat It: Extremism Throughout America's History

Library of Congress

George Wallce, then governor of Alabama, is shown here attempting to block the racial integration of the University of Alabama in 1963. Wallace ran for president in 1968 as a third party candidate using the slogan - segregation now, segregation tomorrow and segregation forever. He won an astounding 46 electoral votes.

It was only a dozen people, but the sight was no less shocking: masked neo-Nazis marching through the streets of Columbus, Ohio last month, proudly displaying their swastika flags and repeatedly shouting racial slurs.

"At the end of day, they want to create fear and anxiety in communities," Oren Segal, vice president of the Anti-Defamation League Center on Extremism, told the New York Times. "[A]nd get a photo op." In 2023 alone, his organization identified 282 events organized by white supremacists, a 63 percent increase from 2022.

A 2024 report released by the U.S. Government Accountability Office asserts that "the internet, and in particular social media platforms, is an effective tool for spreading propaganda and manipulation." This is likely the least surprising news ever to anybody who has spent more than a few minutes online. The report continues that much of this extremism originates on "niche platforms" (where such ideas don't violate lax terms of services) as a means to "cultivate U.S.-based hate speech and extremism for a range of radical ideologies."

They concluded that this is a "dangerous indicator of increased white nationalism discourse in public" and that there continues to be a substantial distribution of "hateful images in the form of memes," spread by groups as extreme as the Ku Klux Klan, who are increasingly and stealthily using the internet "to reinforce their teachings … and employ recruitment techniques framed around an ideology of social supremacy."

Christiana Pazzanese wrote in 2017 for Harvard Law Today how the internet was meant to be a "great equalizer" for society. "Technology would democratize access to information and remove barriers between people who wished to connect and share ideas," she explained. "Yet an unfortunate and largely unintended consequence of the rise of social media is that instead of being better informed and exposed to ever-broadening viewpoints, research shows that Americans today are more polarized and draw from shrinking pools of news."

Those online, she argued, are generating "virtual gated communities." That trend has only surged in recent years as people continue to self-curate their own distinctive echo chambers. Many of these self-curated echo chambers are, in turn, radicalizing people with extremist ideologies. Information outside of one's self-imposed gates is deemed inherently untrustworthy. Lies. Propaganda. Fake news.

What is it then that attracts people to such extremist ideologies? The Cambridge Handbook of Political Psychology notes that feelings of distress lead to increased desires for clarity on issues. The world is confusing. The amount of information needed to even vaguely process and understand it is staggering. People desire simple solutions for complex problems.

"[This] increases the appeal of the clear-cut answers that politically extreme movements provide for pressing societal problems," the handbook explains. "[P]olitically extreme beliefs are associated with overconfidence in the correctness of one's beliefs and knowledge about the world, an increased susceptibility to beliefs that are not supported by science or reason, and intolerance of competing belief systems or groups perceived as ideologically different."

Such extremism is nothing new, of course. In the 1980s, the Department of Justice released a report describing how extremist groups across the country viewed "their mission as bringing about the revolution and blame[d] all the Nation's problems on a particular group" while "exploit[ing] legitimate political issues to attract members." The report stated that left-wing extremist groups generally emphasized class struggle while right-wing groups championed white supremacy, nationalism, and "extremes of Christianity."

Rewind to any era of American history and one will find examples of extremism: insurrectionary anarchists, revolutionary communists, pseudoscientific eugenicists, nativist xenophobes, Christofascists, White Citizens' Councils, and Ku Klux Klan chapters. Such Klan chapters, for instance, existed all across the United States throughout most of the 20th century. In Pennsylvania, membership in the 1920s was as high as 250,000 at its peak, according to a 1986 study.

The pro-Nazi German American Bund had a dues-paying membership of around 25,000 in the U.S. and this march, held in New York City in 1937 shows swastikas flying alongside the stars and stripes. (Photo: Library of Congress)

Leading up to and even during World War II, Nazism had a small, but not insignificant presence across the country. While not a card-carrying Nazi, Henry Ford was well-known for his unapologetic antisemitism. In a March 1923 interview with the Chicago Tribune, Adolf Hitler seemed thrilled that Ford was considering a presidential run. "I wish I could send some of my shock troops to Chicago and other big American cities to help in the elections," Hitler said. "We look on Heinrich Ford as the leader of the growing Fascisti movement in America."

The pro-Nazi German American Bund had a dues-paying membership of around 25,000 in the United States. This famously culminated in the 1939 Madison Square Garden rally in New York City attended by 20,000 "true patriots." They called the United States a creation of the Aryan and called for their preservation as people. They detested the "suicidal tolerance" for "parasitical aliens" who they claimed were destroying America's "ethics, morals, patriotism, and religious conceptions."

"The Jew … is welcome to every one of his characteristics so far as we are concerned, if he could only be moved to remain among his own unassimilable kind and removed from power as a parasite upon the body politic of our and other Aryan Peoples!" the rally's literature declared. "[W]e MUST develop the race-legislation of the United States to the point where those who may rule us, judge us, educate us or in any way direct our minds and souls MAY ONLY BE WHITE MEN!"

The Bund made headlines in Erie on numerous occasions. The most significant story was in 1942 when 26 Bundists were indicted by a federal grand jury for their attempts to sabotage the draft by distributing pro-Nazi propaganda. Two were from Erie. Walter Schneller, 25, was described as "among the most active Bundists in Erie" who "arranged many of the Bund meetings during which allegiance to Hitler and his policies were pledged." Schneller called the allegations "ridiculous" and stated that it was a smear campaign against him by Erie's "Communistic Jews."

The second man, a 29-year-old Greene Township man, confirmed he had twice in Erie met Gerhard Wilhelm Kunze, a prominent Bund leader who himself was being charged with espionage. He denied joining the Bund though. The two Erieites were initially found guilty and sentenced to five years in prison, but in 1945, the Supreme Court overturned their conviction in a 5-4 ruling, deeming that the men had not received a fair trial due to wartime hysteria — although in the dissent, Chief Justice Harlan F. Stone contended that "the Bund leaders had not acted innocently." Schneller was released, while the Greene Township man was already overseas in the Army, having been granted parole with the condition that he enlist to fight in the war.

Years later in 1959, the American Nazi Party was formed in Arlington, Virginia by George Lincoln Rockwell. The group was always fringe, but made headlines often due to Rockwell's antics. "[W]e pledge you our lives, Adolf Hitler," he wrote in 1960, "that we shall not flag or fail until we have utterly destroyed the forces of Marxism and darkness."

In June 1966, a 19-year-old Venango County resident attended a meeting for the conservative John Birch Society at an Erie Holiday Inn. He wore black pants and a khaki shirt with a swastika embroidered next to an American flag. Upon his arrival, he began handing out Nazi literature, causing "friction" with other guests. Following a speech, the young self-proclaimed Nazi then made a scene over the speaker calling the American Nazi Party subversive. The speaker responded that he "would not recognize a question from a Nazi," calling them "nuts" and "screwballs."

The young man was furious and accused the group of "bigotry in its attitude toward the American Nazi Party." The speaker threatened to have him thrown out if he caused any more trouble. Afterward, the young man told the reporter that he had only recently joined the American Nazi Party and had been living in Erie, but he'd enlisted in the Army to fight in Vietnam and was reporting to Buffalo for his induction that Sunday. As for Rockwell, he was assassinated the following year, but his American Nazi Party lived on.

George Lincoln Rockwell formed the American Nazi Party in 1959 and pledged his life to Adolf Hitler. He was eventually assassinated in 1967, but his American Nazi Party found a foothold. (Photo: Library of Congress)

As extreme as some of these groups were though, many of their ideas were still relatively popular. In 1968, the presidential election was between the Democratic Party's Hubert Humphrey of Minnesota, the Republican Party's Richard Nixon of New York, and a third party candidate: the notorious George Wallace, the openly segregationist governor of Alabama and famed foe of the Civil Rights Movement. He was running with the newly-formed populist American Independent Party with a campaign that the Erie Daily Times described as "evil." After all, this was the governor who during his inauguration speech brazenly declared, "I say segregation now, segregation tomorrow and segregation forever." He had been a consistent foe to Martin Luther King Jr., who had only been assassinated months earlier (and, it's worth noting, that a majority of white Americans shared Wallace's views of King: a 1966 Gallup poll revealed only 27 percent had a favorable view of him).

Wallace was well-known for these segregationist views when he ran for president — and especially those familiar with Hammermill Paper's 1965 expansion into Alabama and the company's executives rubbing elbows with the steadfast segregationist, leading to highly publicized protests at the company's Erie headquarters.

His presidential campaign stressed "law and order," pledged to stop the spread of communism, and was committed to individual states, not the federal government, having the right to decide if they would be segregated, condemning such federal overreach as "liberal left-wing dogma which now threatens to every man, woman, and child in the United States."

Wallace promised to solve complex problems with simple solutions. He'd win the Vietnam War within 90 days or immediately withdraw all U.S. troops. His running mate, Curtis LeMay, even implied using nuclear weapons to win it. He condemned professors, journalists, judges, and preachers for not caring about "the pipe-fitter, the communications workers, the fireman, the policeman, the barber, the white collar worker" or "the average man on the street."

"Our system is under attack: the property system, the free enterprise system, and local government," Wallace said in an October 1968 Madison Square Garden speech. "The American people are not going to stand by and see the security of our nation imperiled, and they're not going to stand by and see this nation destroyed … We are going to turn back to you, the people of the states, the right to control our domestic institutions."

Wallace lost, but, quite remarkably, he won 46 electoral votes. As an openly segregationist third party candidate, he received 9.9 million total votes. In Pennsylvania, Humphrey secured 2.3 million votes, followed by Nixon with 2.1 million — and while Wallace didn't come close to winning the state, he still managed to convince 378,582 Pennsylvanians to vote for him. Even with the loss, by the end of the year, a national Gallup poll had Wallace as the seventh-most admired person in the United States, one spot ahead of the pope.

Wallace's campaign, understandably, illustrated the frustration and disillusionment that many Americans had for the two-party system. It also demonstrated that, despite many of his extreme and defiantly racist views, millions were still willing to vote for him. However, he received plenty of pushback from conservatives who weren't buying what he was selling. This included the Committee for a Reasonable America, who took out full-page advertisements in Pennsylvania newspapers highlighting how Wallace as governor increased Alabama's debts, did little to stop violent crimes, and hurt the state's public education system. An Erie Daily Times op-ed stated that the "hatred and frustration" fueled by Wallace was leading to "the splintering process in America" and should be resisted.

In 1972, a 31-year-old Bernie Sanders, writing about Wallace's supporters, noted that he understood the anger people had over America's political system. He stressed though that such anger could very easily be exploited.

"I came away from these Wallace [voter] interviews … [thinking] that democracy in America (in any sense of the word) just might not make it," wrote Sanders. "My mind flashed to scenes of Germany in the late 1920s. Confusion, rebellion, frustration, economic instability, a wounded national pride, ineffectual political leadership — and the desire for a strong man who would do something, who would bring order out of the chaos. … Could it happen here? I see no reason why it couldn't."

In 1996, with the internet now increasingly available, Pennsylvania's Human Relations Commission put out a report on the growth of hate groups throughout the commonwealth. "As recently as seven years ago, I could have counted on the fingers of one hand the number of white supremacist organizations active in Pennsylvania," Richard B. Anliot wrote in the report. The report identified nearly 50, many using the Bible as their rationale. "The beliefs of all these groups include that whites are the only children of God and are superior to all other races, that all non-whites are 'mud people,' that Jews are the children of Satan, and that all immigrants and Jews should go back where they came from."

That same year, the first major neo-Nazi website was established, aggressively promoting white supremacy, misogyny, xenophobia, homophobia, transphobia, Holocaust denial, and conspiracy theory after conspiracy theory. It remains a popular internet forum today with millions of posts.

Two decades later in Charlottesville, Virginia in 2017, a shocking rally brought together many of these extremist groups: neo-Nazis, neo-Confederates, neo-fascists, white nationalists, and Klansmen. "Jews will not replace us," they chanted, tiki torches in hand, along with other Nazi slogans like "blood and soil." The next day, a 20-year-old white supremacist drove his vehicle into a crowd of counter-protesters. Dozens were injured. Heather Heyer, 32, was killed.

In the online world, hate speech, conspiracy theories, and extremist views are spreading more rapidly than ever. Elon Musk's X, formerly known as Twitter, has replatformed formerly banned extremists such as Alex Jones and Andrew Tate. Neo-Nazi content is rampant on the social media platform with many accounts paying for blue checkmarks to have their hate speech amplified.

Extremism is more visible than ever. The Anti-Defamation League notes that many believing such views are "immune to evidence" and often tell others to "'do their own research' and collect their own 'evidence.'" While they provide guidelines for how to talk with loved ones who embrace such views, such conversations can be daunting, even seemingly impossible.

The truth may be a difficult pill to swallow. The spread of extremism is a complex problem. There are no simple solutions.

Jonathan Burdick runs the public history project Rust & Dirt. He can be reached at jburdick@eriereader.com