Call Them What They Are: The Importance of Using the Term Far Right

With so much discussion about the recent wave of far-right violence and Reform UK’s success at the General Election, social media is awash with claims and counterclaims over who is, and who isn’t, ”far right”. Almost any post on social media using the label is invariably met with a raft of responses demanding the poster “define what you mean by far right.”

Such demands are often made in bad faith, but the question of who should legitimately be described as far right is an important one. The reason that so many react aggressively to the label is because, though weakened, the term retains much of its power. Describing an idea, person or organisation as “far right”, thankfully, continues to have consequences.

While some have unhelpfully reduced both “far right” and “fascist” to mere insults, they have not been debased beyond usefulness as a term of classification. While this may all seem academic, it is not. Who we call far right, or fascist, is important as it has ramifications for how we should understand the threat and so is the first step to working out how to effectively oppose it.

Unfortunately, the pushback by individuals labelled as far right appears to be working, with journalists and media outlets increasingly avoiding it in favour of an ever-expanding set of euphemisms and vague or invented terminology.

During the recent General Election campaign for example, the media used a dizzying array of terms to describe Reform UK, variously calling the party “right-wing populist”, “classically right wing”, merely “populist”, or increasingly, the never defined term “hard right.” Reform UK leader Nigel Farage himself is described as everything from a “bog-standard Essex Man Thatcherite” to a “a renegade nationalist conservative.”

In March this year, apparently after being contacted by lawyers acting for then-leader Richard Tice, the BBC issued a correction and apologised to Reform UK for calling the party far right. Tice then stated that they were “also in touch with other news organisations” for using the term, which he claimed was “defamatory and libellous”.

More recently, following the unprecedented eruption of far-right violence that saw mosques attacked, a wave of hate crime and mobs trying to burn down hotel housing asylum seekers in Rotherham and Tamworth, the thesaurus was once again put to full effect by those too reticent to use the term ‘far right’.

Both during and after these events,  some media commentators such as Matthew Goodwin, GB News contributors and even politicians, avoided labelling them as far-right riots, instead reframing them as outpourings of “legitimate anger”.

Why the pushback? 

There are several reasons for the growing pushback against the use of the term far right, some contrived, others more genuine. Chief among them is that many have a limited understanding as to what it means and understandably, have not engaged with the vast literature that grapples with the question of definitions.

For many people, the terms far right and fascist are wrongly interchangeable, creating an inaccurate expectation that the label far right should only be applied to swastika waving skinheads and Third Reich apologists.  

In reality, ‘far right’ is an umbrella term, and while useful, it is not a monolith which is why academics and practitioners split it further into its constituent parts.

Some such as the historians David Renton and Neil Davidson essentially divide the right of the political spectrum into conservatives, the non-fascist far right and fascism.

Similarly, Cas Mudde, the leading social scientist in the field, divides it into the radical right and the extreme far right. He explains that the radical right, “accepts the essence of democracy, but opposes fundamental elements of liberal democracy, most notably minority rights, rule of law, and separation of powers”. 

Much of the radical right can also be described as “populist” which Mudde defines as “a (thin) ideology that considers society to be ultimately separated into two homogeneous and antagonistic groups, the pure people and the corrupt elite, and which argues that politics should be an expression of the volonté générale (general will) of the people”. 

Meanwhile, the extreme far right “rejects the essence of democracy, that is, popular sovereignty and majority rule”. It is within this grouping that fascism sits.

Some of the far right is electorally focused, whilst other elements prioritise ideological and cultural issues. The broad spectrum of the far right is generally united by a common set of core beliefs. In practice, this usually means a belief in chauvinistic nationalism (exceptionalism) of either a race or country rather than mere patriotism. This can be a belief that the nation (either geographic or racial) is in decay or crisis and radical action is required to halt or reverse it, but at the same time this nationalism can be steeped in a sense of superiority.  

The “nation”, however defined, usually includes an in-group that perceives themselves to be under threat and an outgroup/enemy. Historically, the enemy was identified as Jews and/or non-white immigrants, though over the last 25 years we have seen an increase in the targeting of Muslims and Islam more generally.

Importantly, the far right can be violent or non-violent and it can be parliamentary and extra-parliamentary in nature. However, its narrative, propaganda and actions can incite fear in its targets and encourage violence and hatred amongst its followers.

Whilst far-right activists, parties and movements can differ enormously, together they provide a clear political, legal, and cultural challenge to liberal democracy and its institutions, to human rights, and to cohesive communities.

A Widening Definition?

Importantly, however the term “far right” is split, no scholars argue that the whole far right is fascist. The problem with the perception that they are interchangeable terms is that, either through ignorance or a conscious desire to discredit those using it, people increasingly argue that the parameters of what is defined as far-right has been significantly broadened.

Speaking recently to Spectator TV, Douglas Murray stated that anti-fascists have, “moved the barrier of where far right should be said to be, just further and further, closer and closer, to the political mainstream. […] Suella Braverman was said to be a classic example of the far right obersturmführer, jackboot wearing, goose stepping, typical skinhead.”

Similarly, Baroness Fox of Buckley, a former Brexit Party MEP, recently tweeted “When BBC says UK’s far right has changed, seems it means its definition has changed – by expanding it.”

The claim that the parameters of the term have been significantly broadened is the result of these individuals being ignorant of how far right is actually defined and the incorrect perception it should only be used to describe fascists and nazis.

Another factor contributing to this perception is the radicalisation of the conservative right. 

Just as with the Republican Party in America, elements within the Conservative Party in the UK have shifted rightwards. In the words of Professor Tim Bale, author of The Conservative Party After Brexit, the Tories are in “severe danger of transforming themselves from a mainstream centre-right outfit into an ersatz radical right wing populist party. […] True, the Tories have long flirted with radical right-wing populism; but they now appear to have swallowed it whole.”

Importantly though, the line between the far right and conservatism has always been porous. As Dr Aurelien Mondon has explained, “the borders between the far right and the mainstream (right) have always been fuzzy and there have always been exchanges between the two. […] The increase in such borrowings and moves has led to the further legitimisation of far-right politics more generally as actors thought of as mainstream have espoused increasingly extreme ideas making them therefore less extreme in terms of public discourse.”

In short, the definition of ‘far right’ hasn’t been broadened but more ‘mainstream’ figures are increasingly crossing the line making it legitimate to use the term to describe them. The centre ground and conservative right are shifting rather than the definition expanding.

A Changed Far Right

Another likely reason that so many now seem reluctant to use the term ‘far right’ is because, in the digital age, what the movement looks like and how it operates has changed. For many people, their understanding and expectation of what the far right is is now long outdated.

Murray, for example, said, “It’s always been the question I’ve had in Britain, certainly since the destruction of the BNP [British National Party], is who are you tilting against? Who are you running against? […] The bogeyman of the far right had basically been seen off, certainly seen off from British politics.”

Whether Murray actually believes this or not, he is by no means alone in making this argument, with many others similarly stating that since the collapse of the BNP, the far right no longer really exists. Being charitable, this idea is based on several misunderstandings, foremost being the assumption that far-right politics and activism requires a far-right organisation.  

Since 2018, HOPE not hate has explained that the British far right has become increasingly ‘post-organisational’. Modern technology, and social media in particular, now enables individuals to collaborate towards common political goals independent of traditional organisational structures, such as the BNP or National Front. These networks lack formal leaders but rather have figureheads, often drawn from a selection of far-right social media “influencers”.

The recent wave of far right violence was a case in point. While individuals from traditional far-right organisations did take part, most of these protests were planned organically, often by local people, and many of those who attended were plugged into these decentralised far-right networks online. The shared slogans, language and iconography across a diverse array of events owes to the fact that their organisers and attendees were often active in overlapping online spaces.

You do not have to be part of a far-right organisation to be a far-right activist. Failing to understand this is part of the reason that many felt uneasy or simply refused to correctly label the rioters as ‘far right’.

Throwing a brick at a mosque, chanting racist slogans or trying to burn down hotel housing asylum seekers are far-right acts. The fact that most of the individuals who did so are not part of traditionally organised far-right groups such as Patriotic Alternative or Britain First does not change that.

Don’t Call Me Far Right!

The final issue muddying the waters is that all but the most extreme elements of the movement adamantly reject that they are far right. At its most opportunistic are figures like Nigel Farage, who has fancifully claimed that he has, “done more than anyone else to defeat the far right in Britain.”

Most of those who fit into accepted definitions of ‘far right’ reject the label and if anything conceptualises themselves as the victims of totalitarianism and fascism.

Rather than the modern movement’s success simply being the result of a broader, weakened societal anti-fascist consensus – though it certainly has weakened – this movement has generally accepted this consensus and emerged within it, and thus conceptualises their struggle within the dichotomy between (fascist) ‘oppressor’ and (non-fascist) ‘oppressed’, with them being the latter.

For this framing to work, it requires the activists to genuinely see themselves not as extreme or fringe but rather as ordinary, normal exemplars of “the people”.

This angry loose collective is united by a deep distrust of politicians and the political system more generally, believing that there is a devious and sinister ‘elite’ – sometimes domestic, sometimes international – who oppress and control them, often with the ‘tool’ of political correctness.

For this reason, those who oppose this supposed oppression are categorised by their supporters, not as modern versions of fascist or far-right “heroes” from yesteryear, but rather as new incarnations of traditionally progressive civil rights heroes or freedom fighters.

At its most absurd this results in supporters of far-right figure Stephen Lennon (AKA Tommy Robison), un-ironically comparing him to the suffragettes, Mahatma Gandhi, Nelson Mandela and Robin Hood.

This adamant refusal to accept that they are far right is sometimes contrived but is often genuinely held. Of course, that does not make it true. Their refusal to self-identify as far-right doesn’t mean they aren’t.

Why this is important?

The reason that Tice described being called far right as “defamatory and libellous” is because, despite all the sloppy usage, it remains a powerful term. 

People who are widely accepted as being far right are usually still marginalised from mainstream politics and discourse. However, part of the reason that figures like Farage can vault the cordon sanitaire so often and so easily is because many, perhaps even most, deny that he is a far-right figure. One of the main reasons for this is because too many journalists and media outlets refuse to accurately describe him and Reform UK as such.

Of course, the problem is broader than just Farage. The reticence to accurately describe policies and statements by supposedly ‘mainstream’ commentators and politicians is a key factor in the normalisation of far-right politics.

The term far right still has some power and if accurately deployed it can help slow or maybe even reverse the normalisation and mainstreaming of far-right politics.

When someone is far right, call them far right.