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‘The Order’: A Grim Reminder of the Far-Right’s Global Resurgence

The release of The Order, directed by Justin Kurzel, is a stark cinematic wake-up call. As much as we may wish for it to be purely historical fiction, this haunting thriller—centered around the rise of a violent, white supremacist militia in 1980s America—feels like an all-too-relevant commentary on today’s global political landscape. But it’s not just an exploration of the past; it’s a warning sign, lighting up in a world where extremism is again on the rise, spurred by fragile states around the globe.

Jude Law’s portrayal of FBI agent Terry Husk, a disheveled, haunted veteran of the bureau, is magnetic. With every page he turns in the blood-red paperback—The Turner Diaries—the film becomes an unnerving reflection of how far-right ideologies can seep into the veins of society, much like poison. The “six steps” outlined in the book—recruiting, fundraising, armed revolution, domestic terror, assassination, and finally, the infamous “day of the rope”—have proven to be more than mere rhetoric. This ideology, once the playbook for a small group of deranged American extremists, has found fertile ground in contemporary global politics.

The film’s antagonist, Bob Mathews (played by Nicholas Hoult), is a product of the American extremist underground, but his story is hardly confined to the United States. Today, we see echoes of his violent crusade in other corners of the world, particularly in regions defined by political, economic, and social instability. These regions, often referred to as fragile states, become fertile breeding grounds for extremist ideologies.

Fragile states—marked by weak governance, fractured societies, and economic despair—serve as ideal incubators for hate-filled movements. Though inspired by The Turner Diaries, Mathews and his followers weren’t operating in isolation. Theirs was a global movement linked by a network of like-minded radicals who envisioned a violent overthrow of the existing order.

While the film is set in the 1980s, it draws undeniable parallels to modern-day conflicts, where the far right continues to gain ground in fragile states. These states have weak governance, rampant inequality, and political unrest, which has created fertile soil for far-right extremists to sow their seeds.

One of the film’s most chilling insights is its inadvertent exploration of the digital and transnational nature of today’s far-right movements. No longer confined to isolated pockets of the U.S., the rhetoric and tactics of groups like Mathews’ Silent Brotherhood have spread like wildfire through online forums, encrypted messaging apps, and social media, connecting extremists across borders. What was once localized hate is now a global epidemic, bolstered by the anonymity and reach of the internet.

From neo-fascist movements gaining ground in parts of Europe to the rise of militia groups in fragile states, the ideological blueprint laid out in The Turner Diaries has proven alarmingly influential. The film subtly nods to this, drawing parallels between Mathews’ extremist ideology and the modern-day terror of lone-wolf attacks and mass shooters—many of whom are radicalized through similar online echo chambers.

As Husk investigates the case further, he uncovers how Mathews’ group financed its operations through robbery, counterfeiting, and violence—methods that remain disturbingly effective for those seeking to undermine the state. Today, similar groups are adopting these tactics in fragile states. The surge in weaponized propaganda and the spread of bomb-making instructions or tactical guides is not just a relic of the past but a growing concern.

Extremist cells in Europe, North America, and beyond have become adept at using digital tools for fundraising, organizing, and, tragically, mobilizing violence. These extremist networks, while less centralized than ever, thrive on the weaknesses inherent in fragile states—where corruption, weak institutions, and public disillusionment provide the perfect environment for hate to flourish.

But the real horror of The Order lies not just in the violence it depicts but in its portrayal of how easily such ideologies can take root. The film emphasizes the magnetic nature of these extremist leaders. Mathews is a charismatic figure who inspires loyalty, even love, in those around him. He offers a vision of a violent, utopian future, appealing to the disenfranchised and alienated—precisely the type of individuals increasingly drawn to far-right movements today. Whether it’s a rural militia in a distant fragile state or a group of disenfranchised youth in a European city, the playbook remains the same: exploitation of personal and collective grievances coupled with a vision of violent resistance to an unjust world.

Mathews’ brief but deadly campaign of domestic terrorism continues to serve as a blueprint for modern-day extremists. The Ruby Ridge standoff, the Oklahoma City bombing, the rise of militant groups in fragile states, and the increasing occurrence of lone-wolf attacks worldwide all point to a disturbing reality: the radical right’s global resurgence is no accident. The world has been slow to recognize the dangerous crossover between violent extremist ideologies in fragile states and those in more stable societies. The film reminds us that domestic terrorism isn’t just an American problem; it’s a global one.

In the aftermath of the 2017 Charlottesville rally and the attack on Capitol Hill by Donald Trump supporters, The Order takes on even more urgency. The film’s portrayal of white supremacist violence isn’t just a relic of history—it’s an ongoing issue. The rise of right-wing extremism in fragile states has become even more apparent in recent years, from the EU to Latin America, where populism and authoritarianism are gaining ground.

Leaders in these regions use nationalism and fear to divide, creating the very conditions extremists need to thrive. These governments may not directly support hate-filled ideologies. Still, their failure to address the root causes of extremism—economic disparity, racial division, and political disillusionment—sets the stage for groups like Mathews’ to flourish.

So, what can be done? The first step is recognizing that these ideologies are not just historical curiosities but living, breathing entities. They adapt and evolve, using modern technology and social platforms to radicalize the next generation. Addressing the growing threat of extremism in fragile states requires a multifaceted approach: economic reform, political stability, and, most critically, a crackdown on the digital tools extremists use to organize and recruit. Until we start taking these issues seriously, we’re doomed to see a repeat of history—one where hate, violence, and ideological warfare thrive in the cracks of society.

The Order serves as a chilling reminder that the fight against extremism is far from over. If we’ve learned anything from the film, the past isn’t truly behind us. It’s just waiting for the right conditions to rise again.