Far-right terrorists aren’t lone wolves

The mass shooting in El Paso, Texas, was an unwelcome reminder: Ideologically driven far-right terrorism is on the rise.

The attack, which left 22 people dead, came less than six months after the lethal attacks on two mosques in Christchurch, New Zealand, and a synagogue in California earlier this year.

The link between them? The deadly attacks were all inspired by a racist theory known as “the great replacement,” which peddles the idea that the white population is being deliberating replaced through migration and the growth of minority communities.

Far from being isolated incidents, these attacks are evidence of a broader network that is arming itself — and largely escaping scrutiny.

Official U.K. figures released in June show that far-right extremists represented the largest proportion of terror suspects since 2004. In Germany, the latest intelligence service report estimate that there are around 12,700 far-right extremists in the country who are prepared to use violence.

This rise in what appear to be so-called lone-wolf attacks is actually a sign that the far right is becoming steadily more well-organized and well-armed.

Some 113 far-right attacks took place between 2013 and 2017, of which almost half happened in 2017, according to the Global Terrorism Index. And in the U.S., a report by the Anti-Defamation League published in January shows that right-wing extremists killed 50 people last year — with far-right extremists accounting for 73 percent of deaths in terror attacks since 2009.

This rise in what appear to be so-called lone-wolf attacks is actually a sign that the far right is becoming steadily more well-organized and well-armed.

Far-right extremists from different countries are increasingly well-connected. Anonymous messaging boards and extremist echo chambers like 8chan have allowed disparate groups and individuals to coalesce around similar grievances, enemies and strategic goals. Campaigns to disseminate propaganda materials, hateful messages and incitement to violence against Jews, Muslims, blacks, migrants and liberal politicians are often initiated and planned in these hidden yet global corners of the internet.

New research by the Institute for Strategic Dialogue has shown that their ideas are spreading on mainstream social media platforms and are being adopted by political parties. Meanwhile, high-profile attacks and manifestos posted online have brought attention to these groups and their ideological motivations, further boosting their profile.

Far-right groups, particularly in Europe, are also increasingly arming themselves. In July, raids on the far right in Italy led to the discovery of a weapons cache and an air-to-air missile as well as neo-Nazi writings. Meanwhile, French police forces arrested 10 members of a far-right group last year over suspicions members were coordinating an anti-Muslim attack. Police found 36 guns and thousands of munitions during the raid.

In Germany, a group of far-right extremists known as Nordkreuz (Northern Cross), already under investigation since 2017 on suspicion of organizing a terrorist attack, compiled a “death list” of nearly 25,000 left-wing, pro-migration politicians and stockpiled weapons, media reported in June, citing intelligence sources.

But despite statistical evidence that points to an uptick in the far-right terror and a series of recent wake-up calls — including the attacks in Christchurch and El Paso — governmental responses don’t match the scale of the threat.

Policymakers across Europe have been slow to acknowledge the severity of the dangers posed by white supremacy-inspired terrorism. The U.K., for example, included “extreme right wing” terrorism in official threat-level warnings only a few weeks ago.

In contrast to resources poured into combatting Islamist extremist violence, little attention has been paid to the arming of the far right. There is no coordination on an international scale to track and prevent white supremacist-inspired extremism, despite the evidence of cross-pollination between groups online. The resources allocated to countering the threat are also much smaller. In the U.S., Donald Trump, for example, cut federal funding for groups fighting violent right-wing extremism after taking office in 2017.

Partly, governments’ unpreparedness to deal with the threat has to do with the far right’s shape shifting. Most groups do not fit current definitions of global terrorism and in contrast to jihadist groups, there is no internationally acknowledged list of designated far-right extremist movements. For that reason, most violent far-right incidents, despite their global nature and reliance on international networks for inspiration, are often classified under the category of “domestic terrorism” or end up not being labeled as “terrorism” at all.

The fact that white supremacists often operate in looser network structures than jihadist groups like al-Qaeda and ISIS further complicates the matter. Their non-traditional forms of mobilization emerged largely under the radar of security services and can sometimes go unnoticed.

These loopholes and blind spots have had a deep security impact. This year alone, right-wing terrorism has killed and inspired fear among minority communities in the U.S., Europe, Australia and New Zealand.

Local governments and security forces should make an effort to share information and best practices in dealing with this type of attack in order to better coordinate policies. Governments should also invest in counterextremism and radicalization prevention programs targeted at people in danger of being influenced by radical right-wing ideology, and better fund civil society initiatives tackling hate and extremism.

But perhaps most importantly of all, they need to wake up to the nature of the threat we’re facing and the new face of terror on our soil.