This article is reprinted with permission from Religion Dispatches. Follow RD on Facebook or Twitter for daily updates.
The rally also set up a situation where President Trumpâs refusal to directly condemn white supremacism could be read as tacit support for swastika-flag-bearing celebrants of Hitler and his ill-fated Reich calling for the end of the United States. âNo condemnation at all,â the neo-Nazi Daily Stormer said of Trumpâs reaction, adding, âGod bless him.â
Many of the rallyâs architects and participants have long linked the Nazi era with âlolzâ and trolling. This weekendâs event promised to âend Jewish influence in Americaâ and ended with a  Nazi sympathizer plowing his car into a crowd of American citizens. And even then Trumpânot known for biting his tongue or biding his time when it comes to issuing public statementsâspoke only of âhatred, bigotry and violence, on many sides,â before immediately switching the focus of concern back to himself, in the third person.
As weâve seen before and will surely see again, even stiff-armed Nazi salutes donât draw rebuke from the president, so long as they are done in his name. White supremacists, the so-called âalt-right,â can continue to claim Trumpâs support, but there is lamentably little surprising about thisâin fact it is the lesser of two victories the movement took from Charlottesville.
The second alt-right victory this weekend lies in linking support for Confederate monumentsâoften framed as a genteel Southern civil religionâwith the explicit racist, anti-Semitic, and anti-American vitriol Trump refused to name.
By rallying a wide range of white pride, neo-Confederate, American fascist, and anti-communist organizations together with kek-meming internet trollsâsome suited up in armor and others in khaki-and-polo combos possibly patterned off of the president himselfâthe organizers created an orgy of radicalization. Rally participants chanted together,  âfuck, you, faggots,â and âblood and soil.â The focus was not a public memorial of military history on a plinth in a city park, but, rather, fantasies of genocide and separation, narratives of race-based identity and rhetorical violence segueing swiftly to literal violence. Extremism had the day. As former KKK wizard, eager participant, and Trump enthusiast David Duke promised in advance, the âUnite the Rightâ rally was a âturning point for the people of this country.â
It represents a turning point most particularly for those who would continue to defend the statue at the ostensible center of the event, a monument to a confederate general in a park recently renamed to memorialize the end of slavery. The march organizers set out not so much to unite as to coopt, construing their own role as the âheadâ of the fragmented snake that, in parody of Ben Franklinâs famous revolution-era flag, must âjoin or die.â But joining, in this case, means signing up to match under the swastika, alongside event leaders who speak of America as a failed political experiment and describe alternate visions of a country âcarved into ethno-states.â
Even those who came to Charlottesville convinced they were âpatriotsâ found themselves under a foreign flag, marching amid calls for the dissolution of the Union. The rally was like a soup that takes the flavor of its most extreme ingredients: anti-American sentiments escalated; racist hate was amplified.
As an historical event, âUnite the Rightâ thus functioned like the fabled âred pillâ so popular as a metaphor at the margins of contemporary political theory. The rally revealed things as they really are: an American president so self-obsessedâand worried about a shrinking baseâthat he remains unconcerned by Nazis calling for the end of America: an American Civil War that never ended.
Waged in bloody fashion for four years, the conflict did not end after Appomattox, but was transmogrified. The insurrection against the United States continued not only through vigilante and militia groups such as the White League and the Ku Klux Klan, the web of statutes and practices designed to exclude African Americans from exercising their rights as citizens, and in an unbroken political emphasis on âstateâs rightsâ and the racist design of Lee Atwaterâs âSouthern Strategy,â
The Civil War continued, too, in the mythic reimagining, ritual reenacting, and ethical ordering of Confederate history as a frame by which to give meaning to life. This civil religion was described by Charles Reagan Wilson as the âreligion of the Lost Cause,â though this name speaks in the classic double-voicedness of the Old South (think, âbless your heartâ as meaning anything but). The âcauseâ on which this civil religion is predicatedâwhite supremacy and white nationalismâis understood as worth maintaining at the cost of blood and never truly âlost,â merely suffering through a period of oppression which will culminate in a triumphant return. The south will rise again, or, as the words of New Orleansâs original Liberty Place monument put it, one day the âusurpersâ will eventually be overthrown and âwhite supremacy in the Southâ will be ârecognized.â
Monuments to the Confederacy have long served to shore up the woundsâfor white southerners and their sympathizersâof a devastating conflict, a catastrophic loss, and a humiliating occupation. The canonization, as folk saints, of men who led a slaversâ secession from and waged violent war against the United States is essential to an understanding of post-Appomattox existence as, rather than one of surrender and defeat, a state of ongoing truce. This Confederate civil religion, crafted during Reconstruction and continuing to the present day, has served to keep the country tenuously united.
But as this Confederate civil religion has allowed the Civil War to continue in a state of dĂŠtente, this dĂŠtente allowed for Confederate desires and fantasies to exist coincident with dreams of and affiliation with America. Devotees of the Lost Cause venerated the Founders as well as the insurrectionists. They flew their battle flags alongside the Stars and Stripes. They sought not to destroy America, merely to transform it into something closer to their imagined pre-Lincoln utopia.
Hence Dukeâs âturning point,â the âjoin or dieâ moment for Americans who hold to nostalgia for an Old South that never was, a General Lee who never was. âUnite the Rightâ forces a decision: link the battle flag claimed as âheritageâ to the Nazi flag or repudiate the white supremacism and white nationalism, the anti-black fantasies and revisionist histories of slavery at the heart of Confederate civil religion. For Duke, whose romance of the Southern slaversâ rebellion has always been linked with an appreciation for Hitler and a penchant for posing in SS uniform, there is no space between these two positions, between the Stars and Bars and the Hakenkreuz.
But for many other Americans, particularly but not only in the south, the Jew haters in Charlottesville have left them with a Sophieâs choice. That such Confederate heritage and described as a âreligionâ not just by interpreters but by devotees indicates the depth of commitment, even the taken-for-granted aspect of the Lost Cause as a means of making sense of history and human life. Indeed, as part of the protests against the removal of monuments that âUnite the Rightâ seized upon, the notion of these statues as âreligiousâ has been explicitly mobilized in their defense. Those in favor of memorials of the Confederacy have compared those who would remove such âreligious statuesâ (elected American politicians) to terrorists.
In Virginia, Minnesotan Corey Stewart, campaigning for governor of that commonwealth, declared on Twitter in April that, with the removal of Confederate monuments in New Orleans, âISIS has won.â On the same day, the white nationalist Daily Stormer also used the ISIS analogue, though they vented their anger at âJewish plutocracyâ and blamed âJewish blood moneyâ for the decision to remove the statues (and were explicit that the purpose of such monuments was for rallying âidentity and strengthâ of white people). The neo-Confederate League of the South labels such action âISIS-Style Cultural Genocide,â and the Sons of Confederate Veterans issued a statement deploring the âISIS-like efforts to erase history and culture.â The analogy proliferates: âISIS destroys religious statues too,â read a sign in Saint Louis. âWe consider ISIS to be barbarians and evil for destroying ancient symbols and monuments,â reads a letter to the editor of a local paper, a venue, too, for the repetition of the ISIS analogy in online comments.
The logic here links those who would remove Confederate monuments to ISIS both in terms of occupation and of religious war. Those opposed to the monument are presented as a capricious, violently oppressive army, and outsiders to bootâpower-hungry and disrespectful carpetbaggers. The comparison is also, of course, hyperbolic, as the use of an actual ISIS tactic of turning cars into weapons, at the âUnite the Rightâ rally, starkly reveals, just as the optics of the âUnite the Rightâ rallyâand it was nothing if not full of photo-opportunitiesâreveal the bedfellows sharing a platform in relation to such statues, some with swastika armbands, some in Klan hoods, some in white polo shirts.
Yet the recognition by Lost Causers that ISIS knocks down what they claim as idols and signs of idolatry is revealing on its own, an indication of the depth of the problem and, indeed, why âUnite the Rightâ picked this topic to rally an array of hate-mongers around. ISISâs campaign is that of one faith seeking to eliminate all traces of other faiths. In insisting that this is what the anti-monument parties are seeking to do, these pro-monument writers and protestors have correctly identified what is happening. Indeed, New Orleans Mayor Mitch Landrieu, earlier this summer, spoke of the Lost Cause as a âcult,â one âon the wrong side of humanity,â discourse historian of religion Martin Marty described as prophetic, a religious voice rejecting another religion as idolatry.
âUnite the Rightâ called attention to this, that dueling visions of AmericaâAmerican history and expectations for and patterns of an American futureâare more than just differences of opinion, they are radically divergent worldviews, with separate systems of values, conceptions of humanity, and even understandings of the good. The problem of the proliferation of Confederate civil religion has always been what to do with a citizen who glorified secession, how to reconstruct these United States, to warring visions into one America. Dismantling shrines is far easier than squelching a robust faith. Secession and treason, on the other side, is far easier than conversion.
In purporting to rally around such a shrine âUnite the Rightâ sought to further divide Americaâquite literally, for those rally leaders who long for a sectioning of nationâs territory into separate race-based countries. In their attempt, the organizers and their torch- and shield-bearing pawns revealed what was already the case, that those loyal to the Lost Cause have always only ever been tenuously âunitedâ with the broader project of America. This weekend presents them with their turning point: join or reject. The only choices are collaboration, complicity, or condemnationâthe swastika, the flag of rebellion, of the Stars and Stripes.
With blood still fresh on the streets of Charlottesville, the mayor of Lexington, Kentucky, ordered the removal of two Confederate monuments in that city. On Sunday, the day after the violence, as details were emerging about the young woman killed and the white nationalist terrorist who killed her, protests for the removal of Confederate monuments took place Sunday in Baltimore and San Antonio, calling these memorials to white supremacism for what they wereâand what the âUnite the Rightâ crowds reveled in their being.
Just as no American, after Charlottesville, can doubt that the current US president remains deferential to an extremist white supremacist base that rallies in his name, so too no American can pretend Confederate memorials donât serve as public shrines to a treasonous worldviewâa political philosophy and a vision for a future state, an ethics and a racist conception of humanityâthat has and always will be at odds with the country against which the Confederacy rebelled.
The American Civil War claimed well over a million lives; the ongoing resistance to and subversion of Reconstruction claimed thousands more, notably through lynching and mob violence. The organizers and hooded, helmeted, and Hakenkreuz-wearing participants of âUnite the Rightâ may well long for more bloodshed, but at least they have clarified the terms of the âdebateâ regarding ongoing memorialization of insurrection against the United States.