Antifascism, Free Speech, and the Love of Enemies

Introduction

Antifascism is often caricatured as pure negation. It is portrayed as the politics of the clenched fist, the instinct to shut down, to exclude, to silence. Yet beneath the surface, the deeper logic of antifascism is not hatred but protection. It is the defense of a fragile ecology in which strangers can meet as neighbors and enemies can become human again.

Free speech, in this view, is not a fetish or an abstract right floating above history. It is a social practice that makes love possible. When communities create spaces where people can speak and be heard, they enact a moral wager: that truth can emerge through encounter, that dignity survives disagreement, that reconciliation is not naïve. But fascism and white supremacy do not merely introduce controversial ideas into this space. They seek to poison the well itself. They organize to intimidate, to dehumanize, to render dialogue impossible.

This creates a strategic and theological tension. How do you love enemies without enabling them? How do you defend dialogue without surrendering it to those who would destroy it? How do you draw boundaries without becoming what you oppose?

The answer is neither permissive liberalism nor reactionary purging. It is the deliberate construction of moral architecture: transparent covenants, accountable stewards, restorative pathways and disciplined exclusion. Antifascism at its best is not the enemy of free speech. It is the guardian of the conditions under which speech remains an act of charity rather than a weapon of domination.

Free Speech as a Moral Practice, Not a State Abstraction

Movements falter when they inherit myths they never interrogate. One such myth is that free speech belongs primarily to the state. The state grants it, protects it and defines its limits. Under this myth, activists are trapped in a binary: either allow everything in the name of liberty or call for bans and prosecutions in the name of safety.

This framing is too small.

Free speech did not begin as a neutral marketplace of ideas. It emerged from struggles in which communities demanded the right to gather, petition and proclaim dissent. It was a living ritual of encounter. Over time, it hardened into legal doctrine. The ritual dimension was forgotten.

Speech as Hospitality

If you want to balance love and exclusion, you must first redefine speech as hospitality. Hospitality is generous but not naïve. It invites the stranger to the table, yet it sets expectations. Guests do not overturn the table or threaten other diners.

In this sense, free speech is a norm that allows communities to meet strangers and enemies as neighbors to be loved. It presumes good faith participation in a shared search for truth. Fascist organizing violates this presumption. It uses speech as a tool of intimidation and dehumanization. It enters the house not to converse but to burn it down.

The theological commitment to loving enemies does not require you to hand arsonists a match.

The Failure of State-Centric Thinking

When movements rely exclusively on the state to police speech, they surrender their own moral agency. They either demand censorship or retreat into a libertarian shrug. Both responses hollow out community sovereignty.

History shows that states often tolerate or even collaborate with fascist movements when it suits them. Waiting for institutions to protect the conditions of dialogue is a strategic error. Structural forces matter. Economic crises, demographic shifts and media ecosystems create fertile soil for extremism. But movements still choose how to respond. Voluntarist action shapes the moral climate even when structural conditions are volatile.

Antifascism, then, must reclaim speech as a community practice. The question is not simply what the law permits. It is what your community will steward.

Once you see free speech as hospitality, the need for boundaries becomes obvious. The real challenge is designing them so that they are transparent, accountable and rooted in shared moral commitments rather than impulse or fear.

Designing Dual Spaces: Sanctuary and Perimeter

Most movements collapse because they confuse functions. They attempt to use one space for everything: dialogue, mobilization, confrontation, healing. The result is chaos.

A more durable strategy is architectural. Create distinct but connected zones with different norms and purposes.

The Dialogue Sanctuary

The inner ring is the sanctuary of dialogue. Its purpose is encounter and transformation. Entry is conditional. Participants agree to a covenant that includes:

• Renouncing dehumanizing language n- Listening before responding
• Owning one’s identity and speaking from experience
• Submitting to restorative processes if harm occurs

These norms are not arbitrary. They are the minimal conditions under which love of enemies can be practiced without self-annihilation.

The sanctuary is structured. Phones off. Clear facilitation. Time limits. Witnesses present. The ritual matters. Protest is not only spectacle. It is also liturgy. The way you gather shapes what becomes possible.

In the civil rights movement, mass meetings in churches were not chaotic forums. They were disciplined spaces with songs, testimonies and clear moral framing. That structure enabled participants to face violent opposition without losing their center.

The Antifascist Perimeter

The outer ring is the perimeter. Its purpose is defense. Here, trained marshals monitor threats. Rapid response networks mobilize if organized intimidation appears. Legal observers document harassment. Security protocols are clear and published in advance.

This perimeter is not a contradiction of love. It is its shield. When white supremacist groups organize marches to frighten marginalized communities, their goal is not dialogue. It is territorial dominance. Meeting that with naive openness abandons the vulnerable.

History offers a cautionary tale. In numerous European cities in the interwar period, fascist militias used street presence to normalize their ideology and intimidate opponents. Communities that failed to establish protective counter-presence found public space shrinking rapidly.

The dual architecture of sanctuary and perimeter embodies a deeper principle. Charity without defense is fragile. Defense without charity is hollow. Together they create a living system.

The transition between these zones must be clear. Participants know which norms apply in which space. Confusion breeds resentment. Clarity builds trust.

Transparency, Accountability and Shared Covenants

Boundaries rot when they are hidden or arbitrarily enforced. If you want exclusion to serve reconciliation rather than vengeance, you must make it visible and accountable.

The Public Covenant

Begin with a short, public covenant. Post it on walls, websites and registration forms. Read it aloud at the start of gatherings. Invite questions. Invite critique.

A covenant is not a bureaucratic code. It is a moral story about why the space exists. It explains that free speech here is a means of charity. It names the types of rhetoric that undermine that purpose. It specifies what happens if the covenant is broken.

When participants assent to this covenant, they are not surrendering their autonomy. They are co-authoring the norms that make dialogue possible.

Rotating Stewards and Witness Circles

Authority ossifies when it is permanent. To prevent gatekeeping, rotate the roles of stewards and door keepers. Elect them for short terms. Train them in de-escalation and restorative practices. Pair them with a circle of witnesses who document incidents and publish anonymized summaries within twenty four hours.

Transparency metabolizes conflict. When breaches are acknowledged publicly and processes are explained, rumors lose oxygen. Participants see that exclusion is not arbitrary but tied to clear violations of shared commitments.

This is counter-entryism in practice. Instead of charismatic leaders deciding who belongs, transparent procedures and rotating roles distribute power. Movements that ignore this often discover too late that internal resentment is more corrosive than external opposition.

Restorative Pathways Back

Exclusion must be firm but provisional. The door is closed for harm, not forever.

Create explicit pathways for return. These might include:

• Acknowledgment of harm in a facilitated setting
• Listening sessions with those affected
• Concrete acts of repair

Document reconciliations in a public ledger. Not to shame, but to remember. Each successful return becomes a narrative asset. It demonstrates that love of enemies is not rhetoric. It is a practiced discipline.

The danger is sentimentality. Some actors will exploit restorative processes without genuine change. Accountability mechanisms must be real. Repeated violations require escalating consequences. Love does not mean infinite tolerance of abuse.

The Spiritual Core of Antifascist Strategy

Most contemporary movements default to voluntarism. They believe that enough bodies in the street will force change. Yet recent history challenges this faith. The global anti-Iraq War marches in 2003 mobilized millions across hundreds of cities. The invasion proceeded anyway. The Women’s March in 2017 drew an estimated 1.5 percent of the U.S. population in a single day. Policy victories were uneven.

Mass size alone is no longer decisive.

If antifascism is to endure, it must operate on multiple lenses at once.

Voluntarism and Structural Timing

Direct action remains essential. Visible opposition to fascist organizing signals that intimidation will be met with resistance. But timing matters. Structural crises such as economic downturns, migration surges or cultural panic create openings for extremist narratives. Movements that monitor these conditions can prepare educational campaigns and community dialogues before fear calcifies.

Waiting until fascism is fully normalized is a failure of timing.

Subjective and Spiritual Shifts

Fascism thrives on humiliation, resentment and mythic nostalgia. Countering it requires more than policy arguments. It demands a shift in collective imagination.

Art, ritual and testimony play crucial roles. The ACT UP slogan Silence equals Death was not merely a policy demand. It was a psychic intervention. It reframed shame into solidarity. Similarly, antifascist spaces that model genuine cross-difference encounter can become laboratories of a different emotional climate.

This is where the theological commitment to loving enemies becomes radical. It refuses to concede the inner life to the far right. It insists that reconciliation is possible without capitulation.

Guarding Against Self-Righteousness

There is a shadow side to antifascism. The exhilaration of confrontation can become addictive. Exclusion can slide into purity politics. When movements define themselves solely by opposition, they risk mirroring the rigidity they condemn.

Regular rituals of reflection and decompression are not luxuries. They are strategic necessities. After moments of intense mobilization, pause. Debrief. Pray or meditate. Share food. Protect the psyche.

Movements decay when they forget why they began.

The ultimate metric is not how many adversaries you silence. It is how much sovereignty you build. Sovereignty here means the capacity of your community to govern its own spaces according to its moral commitments.

Putting Theory Into Practice

To translate these principles into durable structures, consider the following concrete steps:

• Draft and ratify a public covenant. Host a community assembly to co-write a one page statement of purpose and norms. Include clear red lines and a defined restorative pathway. Require explicit assent for participation in dialogue spaces.

• Establish a dual architecture. Designate specific gatherings as dialogue sanctuaries with strict facilitation norms, and separate teams as perimeter stewards trained in de-escalation and security. Publish the distinction so participants understand the purpose of each space.

• Rotate and train stewards. Create short term, elected roles for door keepers and witness circles. Provide training in restorative justice, conflict transformation and threat assessment. Transparency and rotation prevent power from calcifying.

• Create an incident and reconciliation ledger. After any breach, publish an anonymized summary of what occurred and how it was addressed. Document successful reconciliations to build a culture of accountable mercy.

• Institutionalize reflection rituals. After major confrontations or dialogues, hold structured debriefs. Invite emotional processing alongside strategic evaluation. Protecting psychological safety sustains long term engagement.

Each of these steps reinforces the same principle: love and safety are not opposites. They are co-produced through disciplined design.

Conclusion

Balancing love of enemies with antifascist exclusion is not a theoretical puzzle. It is a daily practice. It requires courage to confront organized hatred and humility to admit your own capacity for error. It demands that you refuse both sentimental permissiveness and vengeful rigidity.

Free speech, when untethered from moral community, becomes a stage for domination. Antifascism, when untethered from love, becomes a mirror of what it opposes. The path forward is architectural and spiritual at once. Build sanctuaries of dialogue with clear covenants. Maintain perimeters that protect the vulnerable. Rotate authority. Make processes transparent. Offer pathways back without erasing consequences.

In doing so, you demonstrate that democracy is not merely a procedure but a discipline of the heart. You show that communities can steward their own spaces without appealing to distant institutions. You embody a form of sovereignty rooted not in exclusion alone but in accountable love.

The real question is not whether enemies will test your boundaries. They will. The question is whether your movement has the moral architecture to withstand that test without losing its soul. What covenant will you write that is strong enough to protect the vulnerable and generous enough to invite transformation?