When Anti-Fascism Becomes a Crime, Fascism Wins
Trump’s move to brand Antifa as a terrorist group isn’t about safety—it’s about suppressing dissent, criminalizing protest, and weaponizing fear against the left.
Setting the Stage
Reuters reports that Donald Trump announced he will designate Antifa as a terrorist organization, framing it as a threat to “law and order.” The Justice Department is said to be preparing guidance for federal law enforcement to act on this declaration. Yet Antifa—short for “anti-fascist”—is not a centralized group but a loose network of activists opposing far-right extremism.
The stakes here are enormous. Trump is not just labeling violence; he’s targeting an ideology. This move echoes his first term when he sought to scapegoat Black Lives Matter, leftist academics, and journalists, using unrest as a pretext for crackdowns. Now, he is elevating that strategy into official policy. The administration’s defenders argue that Antifa foments chaos. But by wielding the language of counterterrorism, Trump has given himself license to treat political opposition itself as an enemy of the state.
The Power at Play
Labeling Antifa “terrorists” is not about public safety. It is a political strategy rooted in authoritarianism. Fascist regimes have always blurred the line between security threats and ideological opponents . Trump’s designation mirrors this pattern: expand the definition of “terrorism” until it simply means “those who resist me.”
And here’s the paradox at the heart of it: if standing against fascism is now defined as terrorism, then what does that make the government doing the defining? Trump isn’t just criminalizing tactics; he’s criminalizing a stance that, by definition, rejects authoritarianism. By declaring anti-fascism itself as suspect, he has tacitly admitted what his movement aligns with.
This isn’t the first time dissent has been rebranded as subversion. During the Red Scare, Senator Joseph McCarthy ruined lives by labeling anyone critical of U.S. policy a communist sympathizer. Journalists, union organizers, professors—all were smeared as enemies of the state not because of their actions, but because of their ideas. In the 1960s, the FBI’s COINTELPRO program infiltrated civil rights groups, targeting leaders like Martin Luther King Jr. with surveillance, blackmail, and attempts to discredit them. The official rationale was “national security.” The real purpose was preserving the racial and political status quo.
After 9/11, the Patriot Act gave the government sweeping powers to spy, detain, and prosecute under the guise of fighting terrorism. Those powers were quickly turned inward. Muslim communities were surveilled en masse, immigrants detained indefinitely, and activists caught in the dragnet of counterterrorism simply because their politics challenged authority. Once the word “terrorist” is invoked, every form of state repression suddenly seems permissible.
And this pattern is not uniquely American. General Francisco Franco in Spain branded anti-fascists as “reds” and “terrorists,” justifying mass imprisonment and executions of anyone who resisted his rule. In Chile, Augusto Pinochet used “anti-terror” laws to disappear students, trade unionists, and artists—casting basic democratic opposition as an existential threat to the nation. In both cases, criminalizing anti-fascism was not a side project. It was the foundation of how authoritarian power maintained itself.
More recently, President Recep Tayyip Erdoğan of Turkey perfected this tactic after the failed coup attempt in 2016. By labeling opponents as “terrorists,” his government jailed tens of thousands—journalists, academics, human rights defenders, even teachers. The word “terror” became so elastic it could stretch to mean signing a petition or criticizing the president online. Similarly, in Hungary, Prime Minister Viktor Orbán has used “anti-terror” and “national security” framing to justify restrictions on NGOs, vilify refugees, and criminalize independent media. Orbán’s regime constantly presents opposition as a shadowy threat to the nation’s survival, collapsing dissent into extremism.
Trump is following this global playbook, but with one twist: he’s not even bothering to hide behind euphemism . Where previous administrations talked about “radicals” or “domestic extremists,” Trump is going straight for the ideological jugular—declaring anti-fascism itself a threat. This is a death of euphemism moment, and it signals confidence that his base no longer needs the pretense of neutrality.
Once linked to terrorism, ordinary activists and journalists can be surveilled, prosecuted, or silenced under the banner of national security. Meanwhile, far-right militias—often armed, organized, and responsible for real violence—escape such sweeping condemnation. This is selective enforcement of power: criminalize the left, deputize the right.
And as history shows, terror labels stick. From McCarthyism to Pinochet, from Erdoğan to Orbán, once the government paints dissent as terrorism, rolling it back becomes nearly impossible. These designations become tools for silencing generations, not just moments. Trump’s move is less about Antifa than it is about reshaping the battlefield of American politics into one where resisting fascism is indistinguishable from committing terrorism.
A Lens of Justice
We cannot ignore who will be targeted first. Movements against police brutality, immigrant detention, or environmental destruction often draw on the same direct-action traditions Antifa has long used. By collapsing all of this into “terrorism,” the Trump administration undermines the right of marginalized communities to protest the injustices they face.
Women, people of color, and queer activists are especially vulnerable. These are the leaders most likely to be at the front lines, most likely to face surveillance, and most likely to be silenced. In a world where white nationalist violence remains the greatest domestic terror threat, Trump has chosen instead to begin training the full weight of the state on those resisting it .
Reframing the Debate
We cannot let “terrorism” become a euphemism for “opposition to Trump.” Conservatives will frame this as “restoring order.” The progressive counter must insist: dissent is democracy. The U.S. was founded on the premise that protest is a form of accountability. To criminalize Antifa is to criminalize the basic act of resisting fascism.
Instead of debating whether Antifa is “too extreme,” we must reframe the conversation: Why are the people standing against fascists being treated as the threat, while the fascists themselves are emboldened?
Building the Conversation
When talking to skeptics, anchor your points in shared values. Remind them that terrorism designations give the government sweeping powers to detain, surveil, and prosecute without due process. Ask: Do you want that power used against your community when the political winds shift?
Stories matter. Bring up examples of surveillance against civil rights leaders, or how FBI programs like COINTELPRO targeted Martin Luther King Jr. These were justified in the name of security too. Position today’s activists within that same legacy of state repression and resistance.
The Counterpoint Trap
Conservatives will inevitably say:
“Antifa uses violence, so they are terrorists.” → False Equivalence.
Violence at protests is not terrorism; terrorism has a specific definition tied to organized campaigns, not decentralized resistance.
Takeaway: Remind people that labeling an ideology “terrorism” criminalizes thought, not action.
“This is about protecting ordinary Americans from chaos.” → Projection.
The real violence comes disproportionately from far-right extremists, not leftist protesters .
Takeaway: Point out that ignoring armed militias while targeting protesters is political, not protective.
“Only extremists oppose this move.” → Motte-and-Bailey.
They retreat to “we just want safety” when challenged, but the policy empowers surveillance of anyone left of center .
Takeaway: Demand clarity—what acts specifically justify terrorism charges?
Deeper Dive
Angela Davis, Freedom Is a Constant Struggle – links global liberation struggles and state repression.
Mark Bray, Antifa: The Anti-Fascist Handbook – a clear, accessible history of anti-fascist organizing.
Kristian Williams, Our Enemies in Blue – explores how policing in America has always been entangled with political repression.
Naomi Klein, The Shock Doctrine – shows how crises are used to expand authoritarian power.
The Last Laugh
Trump may think he’s clever by turning “anti-fascism” into a crime, but authoritarian regimes always tip their hand. From Franco to Pinochet to Erdoğan to Orbán, the pattern is the same: if you fear those who stand against fascism, it’s because you’ve already chosen to side with it. History remembers the ones who tried to criminalize resistance. It also remembers the people who refused to stop resisting.