On the Act of Defining

This post was inspired by conversations I've had recently with Trump supporters. The question of whether Trump is a Fascist frequently gets brought up, not just within these conversations, but within the broader American culture. Something very interesting happened in these conversations. One person said "Trump is not a fascist because he has not killed 12 million Jews". I found this implicit definition of Fascism quite striking, and puzzling. I responded by saying "killing Jews is not necessarily a feature of fascism. What the Nazis specifically did doesn't define Fascism more broadly considering figures like Franco and Salazar." They responded by saying "then what's an objective definition of Fascism?" They were really stressing this "objective" aspect of the term. I found this quite interesting because it revealed a significant misunderstanding of what definitions are, how we use them, and more broadly how concepts are used and evolve. I think they also crucially misunderstood the notion of "objectivity", as if there can be a mind independent definition of a political ideology. I wanted to elaborate on this because for starters, people frequently misunderstand the notion of objectivity, contrasted with subjectivity. There are different senses of these terms, which I'll elaborate on later, but something can be objective or subjective in either an ontological or epistemic sense. Furthermore, there are different types of definitions. These different types are used in different circumstances depending on the subject matter under discussion. I'll first start with a basic view of Fascism and then integrate these essential concepts. 

Let's start with one of the preeminent scholars who study Fascism; Roger Griffin. In his book "Fascism", he leverages a concept from Max Weber called "The Ideal Type". Weber was a German sociologist who introduced "ideal types" as a methodological tool used to understand abstract notions like "Fascism", "Democracy", "Capitalism" etc. From the perspective of a systems analysis, we might think of the "Ideal Type" as a pattern of system architecture that reoccurs in many instances; each instance loosely related and defined by broad abstractions. Griffin uses the "Ideal Type" similarly when defining Fascism; not as a checklist of characteristics every fascist movement must meet, but as a heuristic model to compare real-world movements against. This is crucial, because this method of defining is distinct from classical philosophical approaches that seek to find "essences" in terms of necessary and sufficient conditions. Griffin explicitly emphasizes that his definition of fascism as a form of paligenetic ultranationalism, a revolutionary movement that seeks national rebirth after a perceived period of decline, is an ideal type, not an exhaustive set of features. 

The concept of the “ideal type” originates with Max Weber, and it’s one of the most influential methodological tools in the social sciences. It plays a particularly important role in the study of complex social phenomena like fascism, where rigid definitions often fall short. An ideal type is a conceptual, analytical construct that highlights the most significant features of a social phenomenon. It does not claim to describe any real-world case exactly but serves as a theoretical model against which real-world instances can be compared. The word "ideal" in this context refers to an "idealization" of a concept; exaggerated for analytical purposes. In social sciences, ideal types are used for comparative analysis; they provide baselines or benchmarks for comparing real world cases that allows use to avoid overgeneralization while enabling categorization. As mentioned in the prior paragraph, this is a distinct way of defining a concept. Nominal definitions are straightforward statements of what a word means in common usage. These are very easy to communicate (and is probably what my interlocutor meant when they were looking for something "objective"). However, they are often way too vague or simplistic for complex social phenomena. If we define Fascism as a form of authoritarian government characterized by dictatorial power, this will overlap with many regimes that are non-fascist. Essentialist definitions attempt to identify essential properties that make a thing what it is. This is what philosophers have tried to do for thousands of years, before Wittgenstein identified this fundamental issue. Essentialist definitions can be too rigid or exclusionary, often ignoring variation and historical context. So for example, if we define fascism as fundamentally being racist or militaristic, we might exclude actual fascist movements that lacked these. Family Resemblance definitions are those defined by overlapping features, not a single essence. Wittgenstein introduces the problematic example of defining a "Game"; showing that simple terms like this are often difficult to define in essentialist terms, often leading to absurdities. This typically isn't thought of as a "method" of defining. Within the broader context of his critique of analytical philosophy, Wittgenstein was critiquing a broader understanding of language. Nevertheless, it's useful to think of this idea of overlapping traits, and many in the cognitive sciences have extended this notion. George Lakoff introduces Prototype Theory, a theory of categorization that radically diverges from how categorization was conceptualized throughout antiquity. Instead of identifying necessary and sufficient conditions, think of most typical examplars as defining a broader category. Not only is this highly confirmed empirically in cognitive sciences, computational linguistics leverages this notion based on semantic clustering. More generally, this is just a more intuitive notion of natural language. The ideal type is neither an empirical average nor an exact description, but a conceptual lens that brings clarity to complex and diverse phenomena. In contrast to essentialist or dictionary definitions, it accepts that no real case perfectly fits, but insists there’s a central dynamic or inner logic worth identifying. For Griffin, this makes it the most effective way to grasp the nature of fascism.

When thinking about the act of giving a definition or establishing a definition, it's become apparent that “definition” is a polysemous term. There are many different types of definitions; even more so than what we've described thus far. Because of this, the type of definition used or established in a dialogue or discussion, in some sense determines the direction of the discussion or argument; the types of dialectical moves available to each speaker once the definition is established. It’s not just the content of the definition determining the flow of conversation, but the type. For example, a mathematical precise definition will constrain an argument in ways that an ideal type definition will not. This also implies that definitions can impose constraints on discourse, which implies certain arguments will be ruled out apriori. For example, some more types of definition include the following:

1. Stipulative definitions are created when a speaker or writer introduces a new term or assigns a specific meaning to an existing term for a particular purpose or discussion. These definitions do not aim to reflect common or dictionary usage but instead serve to establish a clear and controlled use of language in a given context. For example, a researcher might define "microaggression" in a unique way tailored to their study, even if that definition differs from popular or academic norms. The key feature is that stipulative definitions are neither true nor false, they are simply proposals for how a term will be used within a specific discourse.
2. Lexical definitions aim to capture the conventional or commonly accepted meaning of a word as it is used in everyday language or documented in dictionaries. They are descriptive, not prescriptive, and serve to clarify how people generally understand a term. For instance, a lexical definition of "dog" would be something like "a domesticated carnivorous mammal with a barking sound, often kept as a pet or used for work." These definitions help avoid misunderstandings by appealing to shared linguistic norms and are useful in everyday conversation, reading, and writing.
3. Precising definitions are used to reduce the vagueness of a term by specifying it more clearly within a particular context. They are especially important in legal, scientific, or academic settings where ambiguity can lead to confusion or misinterpretation. For example, the term "adult" may be vaguely understood as someone who is mature, but a precising definition might state that an adult is "a person 18 years of age or older" in the context of voting rights. Unlike stipulative definitions, they are anchored to existing meanings but make them more exact for functional purposes.
4. Theoretical definitions place a term within a broader conceptual or scientific framework, often explaining not just what a term means, but how it functions within a particular theory. These definitions help articulate complex ideas and are foundational in fields like physics, psychology, and philosophy. For example, defining "intelligence" in psychology as "the capacity to learn, understand, and apply knowledge to adapt to new situations" integrates the term into a specific psychological theory. Theoretical definitions are often contentious and can evolve as the underlying theory changes.
5. Operational definitions describe a concept in terms of the specific procedures or measurements used to observe or quantify it. Common in scientific and experimental contexts, these definitions ensure clarity and replicability. For instance, "stress" might be operationally defined as "the level of cortisol in a subject's saliva measured at specific intervals." These definitions are crucial for empirical research because they provide concrete criteria for what counts as an instance of the concept being studied, allowing others to test and replicate findings.
6. Persuasive or rhetorical definitions are crafted to influence the audience’s attitudes, emotions, or beliefs about a subject. They go beyond merely explaining a term and instead embed evaluative or emotionally charged language to sway opinion. For example, defining "taxation" as "the government’s confiscation of citizens’ earnings" carries a negative connotation designed to provoke opposition, whereas calling it "a shared contribution to the public good" frames it positively. These definitions often appear in political or ideological debates, where the goal is to shape perception rather than clarify meaning objectively.

Each type serves a different pragmatic role. So, when one is introduced, it doesn’t just clarify, it frames the argument space. Definitions function as constraints on discourse. To define is to draw boundaries, and once those boundaries are accepted, certain moves become permissible, impermissible, or compelled (necessary consequences of accepting a definition). A mathematical definition (say, of a group in algebra) immediately limits what can be said or inferred about the object. You can’t argue that a group must be finite unless you've built that into your definition. An ideal-type definition (like Max Weber’s ideal bureaucracy) allows more interpretive and evaluative discussion, it provides a kind of measuring stick, not a strict boundary. So the form of the definition constrains the dialectical space; what kinds of counterexamples are admissible, what kinds of arguments are compelling, what sort of “moves” are available to a participant in the dialogue. Recognizing that the type of definition shapes discourse implies a deeper rhetorical and philosophical point: choosing a definition-type is itself a strategic or ideological move. In debates (ethical, political, scientific), disputes often hinge less on facts and more on which type of definition governs the terms of the debate. Someone might offer a stipulative definition to get a discussion off the ground, but if others treat it as lexical or persuasive, conflicts arise. Definitions are not neutral clarifications but foundational moves in the structure of discourse. The type of definition deployed determines the logical, rhetorical, and epistemological space of the ensuing dialogue. For terms like fascism, the meta-debate over which kind of definition is appropriate is often more foundational than any first-order claim. Being aware of this gives one the power to question and reframe arguments at a deeper level. I'm not making the claim that all acts of defining are arbitrary, but that we must consider the context and term under consideration when evaluating or thinking critically about definitions. 

There is also an aspect of “weak sense” or “strong sense” of a term, or definition. If I provide a definition of a term in its “weak sense”, I am committing myself to less versus a strong sense definition. Therefore, this “strength” of the sense of a term will constrain or direct the flow of a conversation and hence our understanding. When you define a term in a strong sense, you are committing to a more rigid or specific use of the term, are often excluding borderline or marginal cases, and impose higher standards for application. When you define in a weak sense, you are allowing for more flexibility, ambiguity, or range of application. This means that you enable broader inclusion, possibly at the expense of diluting precision. This has the implication that it's more difficult to argue rigorously using the term. "Democracy" in a strong sense might require direct citizen participation, equality of influence, and accountability mechanisms. In a weak sense, it may just mean periodic elections with competing parties. This “strength” or “sense-weight” can direct the flow of the conversation, which affects not just what can be said, but how and why. It determines the mode of reasoning. Weak definitions allow broad entry points into dialogue but reduce the possibility of sharp critique or conclusive differentiation; which entails the mode of reasoning is more interpretive or expansive. Strong definitions often allow rigorous argument and clear distinctions, but make consensus harder and can shut down conversation prematurely if not shared; implying the mode of reasoning is more analytical and rigorous. The stronger the sense of a term you use, the greater your burden in defending it. Strong definitions often require more justification, are more vulnerable to counterexample, and can appear ideologically loaded. 

Essentially, there are two axes shaping discourse; the type of definition and the strength of its sense. These axes determine what questions can be asked, what counts as a counterexample, and which conclusions are possible. 

Lets now tie this back to Roger Griffin and explicitly compare his way of defining Fascism compared to common attempts that use operational or ostensive definitions. From "The Nature of Fascism", Griffin defines fascism as "a political ideology whose mythic core in its various permutations is a palingenetic form of populist ultranationalism." Palingenesis comes from the Greek "palin" (again) and "genesis" (birth). This is the myth of a national rebirth after a period of decadence or decline. Ultranationalism is a form of nationalism that seeks not just pride in the nation, but its purification, renewal, and often racial or cultural homogeneity. It is populist and revolutionary; it positions itself as a mass movement that will overthrow a corrupt or decaying status quo, not conserve it. This definition allows us to understand fascism as a revolutionary modernist movement, not merely an authoritarian regime or military dictatorship.

How is this distinct from other types of definitions? Operational definitions seek to define a concept by how it is measured or observed in practice. These are common in scientific discourse or engineering. We can already somewhat see how this will fail. Under this view, "Fascism is present if a regime abolishes elections, suppresses dissent, uses paramilitary forces, and promotes nationalist rhetoric." These risk missing the ideological or mythic dimension. A regime might be authoritarian without being fascist; for example, a Monarchy. His ideal type highlights the motivating myth behind fascism, not just its behaviors. He doesn’t reduce fascism to empirical traits like censorship or uniforms. In a similar vein, ostensive definitions define concepts by pointing to examples. They are often circular and vague, only working if you agree on the examples. They tell you nothing about what binds the examples under the same grouping. Griffin doesn’t simply list fascist regimes. He seeks the inner logic connecting them, the myth of national rebirth as the engine of fascist action; despite different instances of fascism looking different in practice. At the beginning of this blog post, I mentioned my interlocutors working definition. This is a clear example of an ostensive definition, but even more specific in that it isolates the application of the term to specific atrocities of the Nazis. 

I personally like Griffins approach because it avoids concept creep and over-specificity. Concept creep happens when a term becomes stretched to apply to more and more phenomena, eventually losing its analytical precision. Griffin avoids this by focusing on the core myth. He excludes traditional conservatism (which seeks preservation, not rebirth), generic authoritarianism (which might lack a redemptive national myth), and mere racism or xenophobia (not all racist ideologies are fascist). His approach accounts for many forms of self identifying fascist regimes throughout history without imposing rigid necessary and sufficient traits; crucially, it allows for variation within the core myth. Simultaneously, he keeps boundaries clear and provides us with a guide for comparative analysis. Lets consider an example and then compare Griffins approach to Jason Stanley's approach, who represents a very different way of conceptualizing fascism, more in the tradition of moral-political critique than strict conceptual precision. 

The Iron Guard (also known as the Legion of the Archangel Michael) was a Romanian fascist movement active mainly in the 1930s–40s. Lets see how it fits Griffins definition: 

1. Palingenetic Myth: The Iron Guard preached the spiritual and moral rebirth of the Romanian nation. They believed Romania had fallen into corruption, secularism, and decay, and required a cleansing national revolution. This was not just political reform, but a regenerative crusade, deeply mystical and tied to Orthodox Christianity. 
2. Ultranationalism: Emphasis on ethnic purity, Romanian supremacy, and the mythic continuity of the Romanian people. Jews, Hungarians, and others were seen as enemies of the national soul. The movement glorified death, martyrdom, and national sacrifice.
3. Populist-Revolutionary Character: The Iron Guard was anti-parliamentarian, anti-liberal, anti-bourgeois, and aimed to mobilize a new mass elite. They used paramilitary violence and had a cult of charismatic leadership (Codreanu).

Even though Romania never had a long-standing fascist regime like Italy or Germany, the Iron Guard clearly fits Griffin’s ideal type: Revolutionary, Myth-driven, Mass-based aimed at national rebirth through purification. This shows the strength of the ideal type: it captures real ideological dynamics, not just regime characteristics (like dictatorship or militarism), which might not be fully present.

Jason Stanley, in How Fascism Works, takes a rhetorical-political approach. He focuses on fascist tactics and strategies of propaganda, especially in democratic or semi-democratic contexts. This differs from Griffin dramatically, because Griffin asserts, contrary to many, that fascism has elements of a coherent ideology. Stanley, and many others, define fascism as a set of tactics, not as an internally coherent ideology (as opposed to something like Liberalism, Marxism, etc.) Stanley focuses on appeals to a glorious past, attacks on truth/reason, division of society into "us" vs "them", deeply anti-intellectual, and cult of a leader. Stanley uses "fascism" as a moral indictment, not just an analytical category. He also prioritizes function over structure; how rhetorical strategies of fascists create authoritarian attitudes. Jason Stanley outlines 10 key tactics or features that characterize fascist political movements. Importantly, Stanley does not claim these are strict necessary and sufficient conditions for fascism, nor that all must be present for a movement to be fascist. Rather, these are recurring strategies, rhetorical moves, and cultural patterns that create a fascist environment:

1. The Mythic Past: Fascist politics relies on a mythologized version of the past, a time when the nation was "pure," strong, and united. The past is portrayed as morally superior, often ethnically homogeneous, and under threat from outsiders. Real historical complexity is erased in favor of a narrative of national glory and decline. Fascist leaders promise to "make the nation great again" by returning to this idealized past. This undermines historical truth and fosters nostalgia as political fuel and is often aligned with revisionist history, denial of past crimes, or glorification of conquest.
2. Propaganda: Fascist regimes flood the public with repetitive, emotionally charged messaging that separates “us” from “them” and obscures reality. They do this through the use of state-controlled or partisan media, memes, slogans, and misinformation; promoting emotional resonance over factual accuracy. Repetition and rhetorical simplicity are key tools ("lock her up", "enemies of the people"). This weakens the public’s ability to distinguish truth from fiction and creates an epistemic crisis where reality becomes contested terrain, ultimately undermining public trust in journalism, science, and education.
3. Anti-Intellectualism: Fascist politics discredits reason, expertise, and higher education, promoting instead “common sense” or “gut feelings.” Academics, journalists, scientists are portrayed as elitist, corrupt, or enemies of the people. Intellectuals are accused of spreading lies or undermining traditional values. Fascist movements promote anti-expertise populism, where all opinions are treated as equally valid. They delegitimize critical thinking and complex debate and empowers demagogues who speak simply and emotionally, also undermining democratic institutions like courts and universities.
4. Unreality: Fascism creates a false, emotionally resonant worldview that replaces shared reality with ideological fiction. The flood the zone with disinformation to cause confusion and exhaustion, creating alternative realities through conspiracy theories and false flags. Lying is normalized as a political tool. This is a problem because it destroys intersubjective agreement, which democracy relies on, makes reasoned political discourse impossible and encourages a post-truth culture where power trumps evidence.
5. Hierarchy: Fascist politics promotes a strict social and racial hierarchy where some people are inherently superior. It emphasizes masculinity, race, religion, or nationality as signs of superiority, argues that egalitarianism weakens society, and is often tied to white nationalism, patriarchy, and religious supremacy. This results in the justification of discrimination, exclusion, and violence. It makes inequality seem natural or even virtuous and undermines the core democratic principle of equal dignity.
6. Victimhood: The dominant group is portrayed as the real victim, despite its power or privilege. It usually employs persecution myths. It uses various mechanisms such as claiming that the majority is under attack by minorities, immigrants, or global elites. This turns grievance into moral justification for retaliation, deploying resentment politics as a rallying force. In practice, this implies excuses oppression as self-defense and encourages retribution and scapegoating.
7. Law and Order: Fascist politics invokes law and order to justify repression and state violence, especially against minorities and dissenters. Fascists focus on crime, immigration, riots, and protests to stoke fear. They use selective enforcement of law (e.g., targeting leftist groups, overlooking right-wing violence) and elevate police and military as heroic defenders of the nation, turning justice into punishment. Fascists legitimize state brutality and surveillance and equates dissent with anarchy or terrorism.
8. Sexual Anxiety: Fascism exploits gender roles, masculinity, and sexual norms to define national identity and suppress deviance. It promotes traditional family structures as the backbone of the nation, demonizing LGBTQ+ identities, feminism, and sexual liberalism. Sexual “deviance” is framed as a threat to national purity. Encourages patriarchy and heteronormativity as moral imperatives. Ties gender discipline to nationalism. Fuels moral panic as a political weapon.
9. Sodom and Gomorrah: Urban centers are portrayed as sites of decay, sin, and corruption, while rural areas represent moral purity. Cities are seen as controlled by cosmopolitan elites, immigrants, and degenerates. The countryside is framed as the true heart of the nation. Encourages anti-urban, anti-cosmopolitan sentiment. Splits society along urban/rural, elite/populist lines. Delegitimizes cities as centers of diversity and innovation, aligning fascism with rural traditionalism.
10. Work and Nation: Fascism links labor and national identity, where only certain types of work are valued. It elevates manual labor, military service, and industrial work as morally superior and devalues intellectual or artistic labor. Immigrants or minorities seen as either stealing jobs or not working hard enough and treats work as a moral test of national belonging. Dismisses welfare, disability, or artistic labor as unpatriotic.

 

Feature	Roger Griffin	Jason Stanley
Conceptual Goal	Build a theoretical ideal type of fascism	Identify dangerous political rhetoric and patterns
Core Concept	Palingenetic ultranationalism	Authoritarian tactics + propaganda strategies
Definition Style	Ideal type (Weberian)	Ostensive, functional, rhetorical
Historical Emphasis	Fascism as a specific 20th-century ideology	Fascist tendencies can recur in new forms
Moral Tone	Analytically neutral (non-normative)	Explicitly moral and warning-based
Conceptual Rigour	High (seeks boundaries to avoid concept creep)	Lower (risk of concept creep through analogy)
Examples	Mussolini, Hitler, Iron Guard, etc.	Trump, Orban, Fox News, etc. (often controversial)

 

Umberto Eco’s concept of Ur-Fascism (1995) is one of the most widely cited attempts to define fascism culturally and psychologically, rather than ideologically or historically. It differs significantly from Roger Griffin’s ideal type, and also from Jason Stanley’s approach, though there’s some overlap with Stanley. Let’s unpack it and compare. Eco doesn’t offer a strict definition of fascism. Instead, he provides a list of 14 features that he says characterize what he calls “Ur-Fascism” (Eternal Fascism) the primordial, recurring form of fascist mentality or culture. He emphasizes that “These features cannot be organized into a system; many of them contradict each other, and are also typical of other kinds of despotism or fanaticism.” Below are his list of key features (see original):

1. Cult of tradition: The idea that all that can be learned about the truth, has been learned. There is no room for novel interpretation or refinement of ideas. Tradition determines everything. 
2. Rejection of modernism (while paradoxically using modern tools): The development of western culture since the enlightenment has been a dive into depravity, while simultaneously uses the technological developments as a sign of national strength. Ur Fascism can be thought of as deep irrationalism and Anti-Intellectualism. 
3. Action for action’s sake: Building on the irrationalism, there is a deep desire to act without reflection. Action is inherently good. Consequently, critical attitudes are seen as suspect. Fascists deeply distrust the intellectual world. Phrases like "degenerate intellectuals" are used; as they are seen to have betrayed "traditional values". This builds on the dogmatic attitude from number one; why reflect when there is no room for thought outside of tradition (narrowly defined by them).
4. Disagreement is treason: Modern scientific establishments praise disagreement as one of the key pillars to improve knowledge. Dogmatic ideology rooted in unwavering adherence to tradition cannot withstand criticism.
5. Fear of difference: self explanatory; xenophobic fears against foreigners or immigrants. However, in many cases, it can be "the enemy within".
6. Appeal to a frustrated middle class: A class struggling from economic crisis or feelings of hopelessness, alienation. Stoke a sense of fear that lower classes/groups are their enemy. The petty bourgeois, especially ones who were once proletarians. 
7. Obsession with conspiracy: Or an obsession with a plot, in many cases an international plot; think international bankers. In our era, think the ESG conspiracy, World Economic Forum conspiracy, Covid shots as the "mark of the beast" etc. 
8. Enemies as both strong and weak: Fascists will play up the power of enemies while simultaneously dismissing them as inferior. In the United States, a great example is Schrodinger's immigrant, the idea that immigrants are somehow "taking" jobs away from Americans while simultaneously sponging off the welfare state. 
9. Pacifism is trafficking with the enemy: There is always an enemy to fight, there is always a permanent war. Negotiation and compromise are extensions of the fourth principle about disagreement. Not nihilistic, but apocalyptic in their view of international and domestic affairs. Enemies must be defeated, the nation must triumph. 
10. Contempt for the weak: I cannot describe this better than Eco himself, so here is the quote: "Elitism is a typical aspect of any reactionary ideology, insofar as it is fundamentally aristocratic, and aristocratic and militaristic elitism cruelly implies contempt for the weak. Ur-Fascism can only advocate a popular elitism. Every citizen belongs to the best people of the world, the members of the party are the best among the citizens, every citizen can (or ought to) become a member of the party. But there cannot be patricians without plebeians. In fact, the Leader, knowing that his power was not delegated to him democratically but was conquered by force, also knows that his force is based upon the weakness of the masses; they are so weak as to need and deserve a ruler. Since the group is hierarchically organized (according to a military model), every subordinate leader despises his own underlings, and each of them despises his inferiors. This reinforces the sense of mass elitism." This is a very deep narcissistic tribalism. 
11. Heroism and death cult: The best way I can describe how this occurs in American culture is through Pete Hegseth's referral to military troops as "warriors", and the desire to engage in a Holy War with our enemies. Eco describes the Italian fascists ad glorifying death, a heroic death. 
12. Machismo and weapon fetishism: The disdain for women and intolerance of nonstandard sexual habits. We can see this in modern times with the so-called Red Pill movement (Manosphere) and the rise of the Incel movement. Both of these are deeply anti-feminist in all of its variations. 
13. Selective populism: "the people, conceived monolithically, have a common will, distinct from and superior to the viewpoint of any individual. As no mass of people can ever be truly unanimous, the leader holds himself out as the interpreter of the popular will (though truly he alone dictates it). Fascists use this concept to delegitimize democratic institutions they accuse of "no longer represent[ing] the voice of the people"." Eco specifically writes, "Wherever a politician casts doubt on the legitimacy of a parliament because it no longer represents the Voice of the People, we can smell Ur-Fascism." This is a reiteration of the anti-democratic tendencies recognized earlier. 
14. Newspeak / degraded language: Invented by Orwell, describes the use of impoverished vocabulary, with the goal of limiting critical thinking. I think this is also an extension of its anti-intellectual and anti-elitist tendencies. 
    

Comparing Griffin to Eco:

Dimension	Roger Griffin (Ideal Type)	Umberto Eco (Ur-Fascism)
Core Concept	Palingenetic ultranationalism (national rebirth myth)	Cultural/psychological features of authoritarian or fascist thinking
Definition Style	Ideal type (Weberian model)	Family resemblance + ostensive (Wittgensteinian leanings)
Analytical Purpose	Comparative political science and historical clarity	Cultural/philosophical warning against fascist tendencies
Focus	Ideology + revolutionary politics	Cultural patterns, rhetoric, mentality
Boundaries of Fascism	Clear and structured; excludes non-palingenetic movements	Blurred; even democratic societies can harbor Ur-Fascism
View on Modern Relevance	Fascism can re-emerge but must be ideologically coherent	Ur-Fascism is always latent, potentially reactivating anytime
Strength	Conceptual rigor, avoids overreach	Captures subtler, cultural forms of fascist sentiment
Limitation	May exclude borderline cases (e.g., cultural fascism without regime)	Risk of concept creep and rhetorical inflation

Comparing all three scholars, we see a common emphasis of foundational myth making. They all stress the invention of a glorious, often fictional, past. Griffin doesn't include this in his definition, but Stanley and Eco both recognize the anti-intellectual and anti-pluralism aspects; both see fascism as hostile to complexity, nuance, and dissent. Perhaps this is implicit in Griffins definition, given that ultranationalism tends to entail anti-intellectualism. Both Eco and Stanley highlight the use of propagandistic methods that emphasize an "us versus them" mentality, using feat to justify exclusion or violence. They both emphasize the authoritarian personality structure of the movement as well. Eco is informed by historical instances of fascism in continental Europe while Stanely focuses on modern movements. 

Scholar	Main Lens	Methodology	View of Fascism	Relevance Today
Griffin	Ideological (palingenetic myth)	Ideal type	A specific revolutionary nationalist ideology	Rare but possible in new forms
Eco	Cultural-psychological	Family resemblance	A recurring authoritarian impulse in human culture	Always latent; can appear in small cultural signs
Stanley	Rhetorical-political tactics	Functional/ostensive	A style of politics that undermines democracy	Actively re-emerging in democratic societies

Neither Eco nor Stanley is using a genus-species (or classical Aristotelian) model of definition. Instead, they’re offering something closer to enumerative or family resemblance definitions, and the distinction between these types of definitions is key to understanding their conceptual strategies.

Genus-Species definitions work by specifying the genus (category it belongs to) and the differentia (the specific features that distinguish it from other members of that genus). So a definition simply is the Genus plus the specific difference. For example, a human is defined as a rational animal; the genus is Animal and the differentia is Rationality (what sets us apart from other animals). This is a fine way of defining concepts like technical terms but doesn't handle historically fluid phenomena like "fascism", where there are likely no necessary and sufficient conditions applicable but the Genus-Species model requires. 

Enumerative definitions work differently. This model defines a concept by listing features or typical examples without asserting all the features must always be present. It is rooted in patterns, associates, and similarities that might overlap but are not identical. This handles real world complexity but might lack precision and is at risk of concept creep if the criteria are not strict enough. These types of definitions are difficult to apply in cases of binary classification. 

Neither uses genus + differentia (“Fascism is a type of X defined by Y”) because the concept of fascism is not stable or essentialist enough to support that form. Instead, they use enumerative patterns of resemblance and function. Stanely's definition is enumerative and functional, aimed at diagnosing real-world authoritarian drift. Eco's is more cultural-philosophical than taxonomical. 

In philosophy, the distinction between essence and accident is used to clarify what fundamentally defines a concept versus what is merely incidental. The essence of a thing refers to the set of necessary characteristics without which it would not be what it is, these are the core attributes that all instances of the concept must share. For example, the essence of a triangle is having three sides; remove that, and it’s no longer a triangle. In contrast, accidental properties are those that a thing can possess or lack without changing its identity, such as a triangle being red or large. These features are contingent and not part of the concept’s defining nature. When philosophers define concepts, they aim to isolate essential properties while setting aside accidents, ensuring clarity and precision in understanding and categorization. This distinction plays a crucial role across areas like metaphysics, logic, and epistemology, shaping how we define, analyze, and engage with ideas. It should be clear that neither Eco or Stanley are giving essentialist definitions and I cannot stress this enough because, like mentioned earlier, this has implications for how we evaluate their criteria, how far the concept can be extended, and what arguments can be derived from such definitions. Essentialist definitions give us the ability to construct deductive arguments from the definition, enabling precise classification. Eco and Stanley's approach does not enable this ability. Their definitional approach lends itself to interpretive, probabilistic, plausibilistic, or analogical arguments, which are more context-sensitive and less universally binding. These reasoning patterns are fundamentally evaluated differently from formal deductions, so it's important to be clear about the type of definition underpinning some argument about fascism. 

You might be wondering: "Griffin's approach sure seems similar to the essentialist approach". His emphasis on palingenetic ultranationalism seems to resemble something of an essentialist definition. There is a subtle but core distinction between the Ideal Type approach and essentialism. Griffin is not claiming there to be some metaphysical notion of essence defining fascism; it does not have an inherent or timeless nature like a natural kind. In fact, he emphasizes that fascist movements cannot occur without modernization of a nation state, meaning that fascist movements are contingent on historical context. Griffin is identifying functional or conceptual invariants across different instances of fascism; a core ideological engine that drives these movements. He is not claiming that there is an ontological essence of fascism. While the essentialist approach to definition and Max Weber’s concept of the “ideal type” may both involve identifying key characteristics of a concept, they diverge significantly in purpose and philosophical grounding. As mentioned earlier, essentialist definitions aim to capture the necessary and sufficient conditions that make something what it is; its essence. The goal is to define a concept in a way that applies universally and precisely, often with the assumption that the concept corresponds to a real, stable kind in the world. In contrast, Weber’s ideal type is a heuristic tool, not a claim about an underlying essence. It is a theoretical construct that deliberately simplifies and exaggerates certain features of a phenomenon in order to make sense of complex social reality. The ideal type does not describe any single real-world instance perfectly; rather, it provides a conceptual benchmark against which empirical cases can be compared, showing how they deviate or conform. So while both approaches involve identifying defining features, essentialist definitions aim for precise classification and deductive reasoning, whereas ideal types are used for interpretive analysis and comparative understanding in social science. In short, essentialism seeks what something is, while Weberian ideal types help us make sense of what things tend to look like in varied and messy real-world contexts.

To put it another way, instead of identifying an essence, the ideal type builds a conceptual model based on patterns, a stylized, exaggerated construct that reflects the most characteristic features of a phenomenon. For example, an alternative ideal type of fascism might include ultranationalism, authoritarian leadership, mythic appeals to national rebirth, and suppression of dissent. These features don’t appear in every fascist regime in the same way, but together they form a recognizable pattern. Importantly, ideal types can also be understood as system archetypes; that is, models that reveal recurring structures or dynamics within social systems. Like feedback loops in systems thinking, ideal types help us identify the tendencies and relationships that shape behavior across different contexts. They don’t tell us what fascism is in an essentialist sense, but they help us understand how it functions and evolves across time and place. In doing so, the ideal type avoids the classic philosophical problem of essence vs. accident; not by resolving it, but by rendering it irrelevant. It’s not about classifying reality into fixed categories; it’s about building models that make complex systems more intelligible.

Griffin's ideal type avoids rigidity of classical definitions that demand necessary and sufficient conditions, avoids essentialist because he is not claiming fascism has a natural or metaphysical essence, and allows for defeasible classification since some cases are clearly fascist while others are debatable. It strips away historical contingencies while identifying core structural elements to all fascist movements.  

Moving on from the various attempts to define fascism for a bit, I'd like to now touch on a point I mentioned earlier about the "objectivity" of definitions. Based on my description of the act of defining, categorization, and reference, it should be no surprise that this idea of an "objective" definition is interesting. In what sense can anything be "objective"? What is the set of possible things that can be called "objective"? In set theoretic terms, the predicate "is objective" is to denote a collection of propositions that stand in categorical opposition to something we might call "subjective". I've belabored this distinction in a prior post, but I think it should be revisited because the word "objective" tends to be used as a conversation stopper, rather than a designation of some property. It's used in an authoritative tone typically without regard to whether that label is applicable. This becomes especially problematic when we attempt to apply the label to something nebulous like fascism. 

Ontological objectivity and subjectivity concerns what exists independently of human minds. Ontologically objective entities are things that exist regardless of beliefs or perspectives; things like the moon, or this tree outside my window. Ontologically subjective things depend on human consciousness or institutions. Some might call these "social constructions", but they refer to things like money, marriage, ideologies, and language. From the ontological sense of the term, it should be clear that fascism, as a political ideology, is ontologically subjective. It exists as part of human social and ideological systems. There is no "objective" independent thing called "fascism" out there in the world. 

Epistemic objectivity and subjectivity concern how we know things, and whether our knowledge claims are rationally justifiable, intersubjective, and evidence based. A claim is epistemically objective if it can be assessed using shared standards of reason and evidence. A claim is epistemically subjective if it relies on tastes, feelings, or private experience. We can make epistemically objective claims of fascism, such as the case with the Iron Guard, but our definition of fascism itself will always have interpretive and contestable elements because it emerges from human history, not natural law. 

The desire for an "objective definition" of fascism reflects a scientific-realist model of language: the idea that words refer directly to things with essential properties, like how “water” refers to H2O. But political concepts don’t work this way. Terms like fascism, democracy, freedom, terrorism, justice are what W.B. Gallie called “essentially contested concepts”, their meaning is inherently debatable because they are historically and socially constructed, value laden, and their use is strategic and rhetorical as much as it is descriptive. So, the demand for an "objective" definition of fascism misses the point: definitions are not discovered, they are constructed and justified through use, argument, and historical analysis. Definitions in political theory are tools for inquiry and persuasion, not mirrors that perfectly reflect external truths. They shape how we see the world: calling someone a fascist is never neutral, it positions them within a moral and historical narrative. If we define it too narrowly (e.g., “must kill 12 million people”), we render the concept useless for understanding how fascism begins or adapts. Fascism isn’t like a chemical compound with a fixed formula. It’s a historically rooted political ideology whose meaning must be reconstructed from the movements that identified with it, like Mussolini’s Italy and Hitler’s Germany. Scholars like Roger Griffin build ideal types to capture its core logic, like the myth of national rebirth through revolution, rather than reduce it to a checklist of atrocities. That’s how we reach definitions that are intellectually rigorous and historically grounded, even if they’re not ‘objective’ in the way gravity or atoms are.

I always refer to Douglas Walton's work on informal logic, so here I'll do the same. Implicit redefinitions are a type of persuasive definition that happens when someone subtly shifts the meaning of a term mid-argument. This is connected with presumptive reasoning; "fascism" as used in everyday discussion is usually conditional on a presumptive definition that is defeasible. For example, someone might claim that "fascism means genocide. Trump does not commit genocide, therefore the classification is inapplicable". But this smuggles in a high evidentiary threshold which shuts down discussion. In this example, the threshold is presumptive and ought to be interrogated. These sorts of dialectical moves occur constantly. Definitions often smuggle in arguments by framing a concept in moral or political terms (“freedom” as market deregulation), setting up straw men (defining socialism as government tyranny), or framing the boundaries of discourse (“If you call this fascism, then you must believe all strong leaders are fascists”). In the end, definitions are not just about truth, but about use: What work does the definition do? Does it clarify or obscure? Does it advance inquiry or shut it down? Is it inclusive enough to capture historical variety, yet precise enough to exclude unrelated cases? Definitions have a pragmatic element. So when someone demands an “objective definition,” they may be treating definitions as fixed epistemic anchors, rather than tools of reasoning. But philosophy teaches us that definitions are part of interpretive, defeasible reasoning that often contain implicit arguments. Good definitions are those that serve pragmatic goals of inquiry, explanation, and inquiry. In the case of fascism, insisting on a mind-independent, once-and-for-all definition is a category error. It ignores the historical, rhetorical, and normative complexity of the term.

I want to pivot back to defining fascism, but now we will look at it from a Marxist perspective. This is crucial because Marxists define fascism fundamentally differently from what we have seen thus far with Griffin, Stanley, and Eco. The Marxist definition of fascism is an implication, or logical consequence, of accepting core theoretical postulates of Marxist theory. This is an absolutely crucial distinction, because it raises questions about whether definitions can be theory independent of if they're always theory laden in some fundamental way. 

Marxist interpretations of fascism diverge sharply from liberal or cultural approaches by grounding their analysis in class struggle, capitalist crisis, and material conditions rather than ideology alone. From this perspective, fascism is not just an authoritarian regime or a nationalist movement, it is a specific response by monopoly capital to systemic threats from the working class. As famously articulated by the Communist International in 1935, fascism is “the open terrorist dictatorship of the most reactionary, most chauvinistic, most imperialist elements of finance capital.” That is, fascism arises when liberal-democratic institutions can no longer contain social unrest or preserve capitalist profits, prompting the ruling class to abandon democracy in favor of violent repression. Marxists also stress that fascism draws its mass base primarily from the economically squeezed petite bourgeoisie, small business owners, professionals, and others caught between capital and labor, who are prone to reactionary politics when facing downward mobility. Thinkers like Gramsci, Trotsky, and Zetkin highlight how fascism functions as a counter-revolutionary force: while it may claim to oppose elites, it ultimately serves to destroy proletarian movements and secure capitalist rule. Rather than viewing fascism as an anomaly or break from liberalism, Marxists argue it is a symptom of capitalism in crisis, a “capitalism in decay” that resorts to dictatorship when democratic methods fail to sustain the system.

This is a radically different way of understanding fascism. On this view, fascism is an outgrowth of capitalist systems coupled with liberal democracies. The "seeds" of fascism are embedded within the logic of the economic system. Notice that this conceptualization rests on theoretical concepts; these words like "capitalist crisis" mean something very specific within Marxist theory. The definition is intrinsically connected to a system of concepts, it only makes sense because of these background concepts. This raises the question of whether any definitional strategy can be independent of a system of concepts. Marxist definitions of fascism are embedded within a broader theoretical framework, class struggle, modes of production, capitalist crisis, ideology critique. They don’t just define fascism; they situate it within a system of concepts. So the question becomes: can one define something like fascism without such a conceptual system?

A definition is "theory-laden" if it depends on a background conceptual framework, draws meaning from that frameworks internal logic, and cannot be understood or justified in isolation from that framework. For example, "neurosis" means something very specific from a Freudian perspective. Or from a Christian perspective, something being "good" is inherently connected to a broader theistic view that incorporates narratives, historical assumptions, and theological constructs such as "sin". Strictly speaking, "sin" doesn't make much sense outside of the Christian plausibility structure, because "transgression against God" assumes a specific model of god, which is deeply coupled with the broader set of presuppositions. Even Griffin's definition in some deep sense depends on a theoretical model. He operates within a Weberian social science tradition, he relies on concepts like modernity, political myth, populist ultranationalism, and revolutionary regeneration which are not self-evident or theory-free. His work implicitly privileges ideological dynamics over economic structure, which is a theoretical choice. It's not clear whether anything can be theory independent. Especially for contested, historically embedded, evaluative concepts like fascism. There is no "view from no where", all definitions rest upon assumptions about what matters. Even lexical definitions are snapshots of socially embedded linguistic practices, not neutral referents. We can still reason objectively but not in a sense of discovering a single true definition. Instead, we look for definitions that have presumed "good" qualities such as:

• Conceptual clarity: What is this definition trying to capture?
• Explanatory power: How well does it make sense of the cases?
• Pragmatic usefulness: Does it help us understand, compare, or resist fascism?
• Consistency and transparency: Are its assumptions clear?

I'll come back to this later because I actually think the Marxist approach is highly informative. I'll also come back to the evaluation standards of definitions. For now, let's get back to the question "is Trump a Fascist?" 

To me the question “is trump a fascist” is best approached by comparing his actions to self identified fascists in history, prototypical fascists, or fascist adjacent figures. Based on relative similarities, we can defeasibly assign the label: it seems to me like the best we can do is use defeasible analogical arguments, comparing him to a broader set of fascists like Franco or Salazar, noting whether the similarities and dissimilarities are relevant according to some criteria. Or maybe we can do some sort of network analysis, looking at his local connections and their relative importance on his outlook. For example, suppose trump is influenced by JD Vance who is influenced by highly suspected fascists, we could infer trump has fascist tendencies based on this peer group. This is obviously problematic but it seems like these approaches could be practical. Here are the key components of the analogical approach:

• Reference class: Who counts as a paradigm case of fascism? Mussolini, Hitler, Codreanu, Franco, etc.
• Relevant features: Cult of personality, palingenetic myth, paramilitary groups, suppression of dissent, ultranationalism, mass mobilization
• Relevance criteria: Are the shared features causal, symbolic, structural?
• Weighting: Some features matter more than others (authoritarianism is common, but the palingenetic revolutionary myth is more diagnostically central per Griffin)

We could leverage features of the definitional strategies we have covered thus far to make an inference. For the network analysis and peer group inference, I'm essentially treating fascism not just as an ideology, but as a relational property detectable through influence patterns, discourse networks, and affiliation with fascist adjacent thinkers or movements. We could approach this using field theory or actor-network theory. Many actors dont explicitly identify as fascist, but their discursive ecosystem can still signal fascist tendencies. Influence is often mediated through multiple paths on a social network; for example Yarvin -> Vance -> Trump (Curtis Yarvin being the known fascist). We could also ask whether Trump is enabling or empowered by fascist networks. Perhaps we could even combine the analogical and network approach into a practical heuristic:

• Step 1: Analogical Mapping: Compare Trump to historical fascist figures using a grid of core traits (Griffin’s ideal type).
• Step 2: Relational Mapping: Analyze Trump’s ideological network; who he reads, appoints, echoes, or legitimizes.
• Step 3: Interpretive Weighting: Judge whether the aggregate similarities are politically, morally, or analytically sufficient to use the label “fascist,” “fascist-adjacent,” or “illiberal nationalist”.

I think an approach like this avoids definitional reductionism and concept creep. But prior to doing any of this, It seems that when we marshal evidence for the conclusion , we need to first establish whether that evidence is relevant. In Evidential Foundations of Probabilistic Reasoning, David Schum explains that evidence must be established as evidence through a process of legitimation. It seems like this is important right now, because using the empirical approach , someone might disagree whether an action counts as evidence. But a simple method could be: ask self identified fascists if they resonate with trumps publicly stated positions, if they like or endorse trump, this is positive evidence for the proposition that he’s a fascist. Obviously it’s not conclusive alone, and it will depend on a network of other pieces of evidence, ultimately a cumulative case would yield the likelihood whether he’s a fascist or not. Perhaps we could even use a Bayesian approach, weighing the posterior odds. This could be one line of evidence that seems robust. For example, suppose someone thinks Kamala Harris is a communist, but many self identified communists do not recognize her as one, and she doesn’t use Marxist concepts in her speech, then we can conclude this to be negative evidence of her being a communist. If a person is accused of being X, but recognized practitioners of X do not accept that person as one of their own, that is negative testimonial evidence. Additionally, if the person does not use the language, symbols, or conceptual tools associated with X, that further lowers the posterior odds.

Not all empirical claims automatically count as "evidence." For something to function as evidence, it must undergo a process of legitimation. Evidence becomes relevant only when it can be connected to a hypothesis or conclusion via a credible inferential path. This often involves rules of relevance, background theories, and argumentation schemes (Douglas Walton also talks about this in dialogical logic). If someone says, “Trump spoke in favor of border walls,” that only becomes evidence of fascism if we link border nationalism to a theory or prototype of fascist ideology; otherwise, the data is just a free-floating observation and not evidence. This is why I think self-identification by known fascists could be highly confirming evidence. The idea: if people who explicitly hold fascist beliefs resonate with or endorse Trump, this can be positive evidence that Trump’s positions align with fascist ideas, even if Trump himself does not claim the label. Of course, this is defeasible, there may be other explanations (fascists are opportunistically supporting a non-fascist figure). But it's still probative evidence. Ultimately, assigning the label will be probabilistic, conditional on negative and positive evidence. So according to a Bayesian cumulative approach, we could first set the prior probability based on general traits or context. Trump is a populist and a nationalist, but does not have revolutionary inclinations despite many of his supporters having these inclinations. Next, we can collect evidence; he is endorsed by fascist groups, his language is consistent with palingenetic myths, he uses law-and-order rhetoric and enjoys suppressing dissent. Finally, we update our posterior probability using Bayesian principles; at some threshold one is justified in saying "It is likely, unlikely that Trump is a fascist". 

Ultimately, if we assign the label “fascist” to someone holding a powerful position, this almost certainly implies we must take action. We know historically that fascists and fascist adjacent regimes are brutal, increasing the probability of oppression and suffering for out group members and “traitors” speaking against the regime . This seems intrinsically connected to decision theory. Suppose with high probability we conclude trump is a fascist, and his form of fascism is closely related to historically violent fascist movements, then it seems there is a cost of not acting. However, the immediate cost of acting is very high. You take on many risks, potentially at the expense of being wrong about your diagnosis. It seems like this factors into the analysis very deeply. So it’s interesting, many people conclude he’s a fascist but do nothing about it. But simultaneously it makes sense why someone wouldn’t act, because the individual cost is very high while the marginal impact of regime change seems low. Likewise, maybe some people don’t think it’s a problem, because in their mind “if it’s a problem, someone will alarm the bell” so to speak, but with group think, echo chambers, and risk of social ostracism, many people won’t speak out so there won’t be any social proof more broadly. Labeling a leader as “fascist” is not a morally neutral act. It implies that we have crossed a threshold of evidence, that the threat is not just theoretical but imminent, and that some form of resistance or defensive action may be necessary, Belief implies obligation, if you truly believe a fascist regime is emerging and you do nothing, you are complicit, unless you believe resistance is futile. Of course, people often act as if they don't believe what they say, not because they are lying but because belief is often partitioned from motivation when the expected utility of action is low, the personal cost is high, and there's an ambiguity or deferral or responsibility. There is a social epistemological aspect of inaction as well. People often wait for external validation but this can cause pluralistic ignorance, the bystander effect, and echo chambers. So even if many people independently diagnose fascism, the absence of visible collective action feeds the illusion that it’s not urgent, or that others don’t see it. This is why social proof becomes a bottleneck: if no one else is acting, people doubt their own assessment, or wait for institutional actors (courts, media, elites) to validate it, often after it’s too late.

I think one of the problems of identifying modern fascism is that traditional definitions might not account for the evolution of fascist ideology. Fascism, like any virus, adapts to its environment. Spencer Sunshine's Neo-Nazi Terrorism and Countercultural Fascism: The Origins and Afterlife of James Mason’s Siege (Routledge, 2024) offers a compelling and nuanced exploration of how fascist ideology has evolved in the postwar era, particularly through the lens of James Mason’s Siege and its influence on contemporary neo-Nazi terrorism. Sunshine’s work extends the conceptual framework of fascism beyond the models proposed by scholars like Roger Griffin and Jason Stanley. While Griffin emphasizes the palingenetic ultranationalism at the core of fascist ideology, and Stanley focuses on the rhetorical and political strategies employed by fascist movements, Sunshine delves into the subcultural and countercultural dimensions that have allowed fascism to adapt and persist in new forms. He traces the transformation of Mason’s Siege from its origins in the 1970s American Nazi Party splinter groups to its resurgence in the 1980s and eventual adoption by contemporary neo-Nazi terrorist organizations like Atomwaffen Division. This trajectory illustrates how fascist ideology has been recontextualized within countercultural milieus, blending with elements of Satanism, occultism, and transgressive art. 

A significant contribution of Sunshine’s book is his analysis of how fascist ideology has infiltrated and co-opted countercultural spaces. He documents the roles of figures like Boyd Rice, Michael Moynihan, Adam Parfrey, and Nikolas Schreck in reviving and disseminating Siege, thereby bridging the gap between fringe cultural movements and violent neo-Nazi terrorism. This fusion has given rise to what Sunshine terms "countercultural fascism," characterized by a rejection of traditional political structures in favor of decentralized, leaderless resistance and a glorification of violence and chaos. Sunshine’s examination reveals that modern fascist movements are not merely political entities but are deeply embedded in cultural and subcultural networks. These networks facilitate the spread of extremist ideologies and provide a sense of identity and purpose to individuals drawn to radical beliefs. By highlighting the evolution of fascist ideology through countercultural channels, Sunshine challenges traditional definitions and encourages a broader understanding of how fascism adapts to contemporary contexts. His work underscores the importance of considering cultural and subcultural dynamics in the analysis of fascist movements, especially in an era where digital platforms and decentralized networks play a crucial role in radicalization processes. In summary, Neo-Nazi Terrorism and Countercultural Fascism extends the conceptualization of fascism by incorporating the cultural transformations and adaptations that have allowed it to persist and evolve. Sunshine’s interdisciplinary approach provides valuable insights into the modern manifestations of fascist ideology and the mechanisms through which it continues to pose a threat in contemporary society.

George Orwell's exploration of fascism, particularly in his essay "What is Fascism?" (1944) and the collection Fascism and Democracy, reveals his struggle to pin down a precise definition of the term. He observed that by the 1940s, "fascism" had become a catch-all label, often used to describe anything deemed undesirable or authoritarian. Orwell noted that the term was applied so broadly that it had lost specific meaning, being used to describe a wide array of subjects, from political figures to cultural practices . Orwell also highlighted the term's misuse in political discourse, where it was often employed more as an insult than a descriptor. He remarked that "fascist" had become synonymous with "bully" in the English vernacular, reflecting its dilution as a term of political analysis . People tend to misunderstand and overuse the term “fascism”, to be a stand-in for anything you don’t like, similar to how conservatives use the word “communism” to refer to any socially progressive policy. In a recent conversation, someone said to me that “Stalin was a fascist”. Now, this is hilarious on its face because of how ignorant of history the statement was. But it’s illuminating as well, because the term is so successful at being a substitute for “authoritarianism” that people cannot distinguish fascism from non-fascism. Never mind the fact that fascists hate communists, there is a right wing trend to label left wing extremism as fascism, obfuscating the fact that fascism is pretty much exclusively a right wing concept. "Fascism" has become a kind of semantic black hole: a label that absorbs meaning rather than clarifies it. When someone says "Stalin was a fascist," they are (perhaps unconsciously) revealing a deeper problem, the collapse of meaningful political language into free-floating moral condemnation. Fascism is fundamentally a right wing phenomenon, but people have obfuscated "authoritarianism" with "fascism". Fascism is palingenetic ultranationalism: the belief in a national rebirth, led by an organic, hierarchical community, purified of decadence, foreigners, or internal traitors. It’s anti-liberal, anti-socialist, and anti-democratic, but not just because it wants order, it wants regeneration, myth, and unity. Mussolini, Hitler, Franco, Codreanu, Salazar, all saw themselves as defenders of tradition, race, nation, or spiritual essence, against modernity, Marxism, or cosmopolitanism. They were rooted in the reactionary right, though they often mobilized mass movements and populist rhetoric. Authoritarian socialism/communism (Stalin, Mao) often shares the form (repression, surveillance, personality cult), but not the content or ideological orientation.

I think there is an aspect of historical formation that is usually neglected from conversations about fascism. We risk historical determinism if we claim for example that, nations that were once monarchies are likely to become fascist. We also can reduce fascism if we fail to identify neofascist mutations. The core logic Griffin identifies might not be present in some of the neo-fascist renditions we observe in modern America. The question of whether there is a path dependency to fascism is interesting, something I wont pursue. But, there must be some sort of background conditions required for a fascist movement to succeed. As mentioned earlier, I think this is why the Marxist perspective is attractive because it identifies conditions that make fascism more likely. More broadly, what convinces a population to become fascist? I’d imagine there is something to do with the use of religious imagery, symbolism, and theology as motivating factors. For example, Nazi ideology simply did not emerge independently and spontaneously from economic factors alone. Nationalist movements always scapegoat minorities but in order for the Nazi message to have been successful so quickly, there just have been preconditions or background conditions enabling the proliferation of scapegoating. Europe had largely been very anti-semitic for centuries, possibly due to people like Martin Luther in his “on Jews and their lies” among other theologies. Hitler then used concepts like the Aryan Jesus, essentially using centuries of theology as his launching point. There seem to be these sorts of preconditions unique to each fascist movement, non generalizable but act as INUS conditions for the emergence of fascism. If we accept Griffins definition, then seemingly the next question because "what enables palingenetic ultranationalism?"  

The Nazis didn’t invent anti-Semitism, they inherited it. What they did was radicalize and racialize centuries of Christian theological anti-Judaism, which included blood libel myths, deicide narratives, and the notion of Jews as the internal enemy, spiritually and morally corrupt. In Luther's book, he advocated for burning synagogues, expelling Jews, and confiscating their texts. This formed a part of the cultural memory of Christian Germany, which Hitler later revived in racial, secularized terms.  Hitler and Nazi ideologues often invoked religious archetypes, even when operating within a secular pseudo-scientific racial framework. The "Aryan Jesus" myth recast Jesus as a Nordic rebel against Jewish corruption. The Third Reich was envisioned as a kind of apocalyptic fulfillment, the rebirth of a pure world after purging corruption. Italian Fascism also drew heavily on religious symbology. Mussolini drew on Roman imperial and Catholic imagery. Mussolini staged elaborate pageants and rituals invoking the myth of a resurgent Rome. He instrumentalized religious tradition. So when asking why fascism emerges successfully, we must attend to the symbolic and narrative raw material available in a given culture, the prejudices and archetypes long embedded in religious and social institutions, and the emotional and metaphysical structures fascism can plug into. This includes things like cultural scripts (stories of chosen people, betrayal, and spiritual warfare) and affective pathways (anger and a sense of humiliation). Contemporary far-right movements also use religious symbolism: Christian nationalism in the U.S., Orthodox-infused autocracy in Russia, or Hindu nationalism in India. They frame their politics in civilizational or eschatological terms, creating a sense that political conflict is cosmic, eternal, and absolute. Fascist movements don't just pop out of thin air, nor do they emerge in a vacuum. These conditions are not absolute. From a causal lens, if we say "what caused this fascist movement to grow, expand, and proliferate", these preconditions don't determine the outcome, they just seem to make the outcome much more likely.