Amy Spitalnick is the executive director of Integrity First for America, a nonpartisan nonprofit organization dedicated to holding those accountable who threaten longstanding principles of our democracy. Spitalnick previously served as communications director and senior policy adviser to the New York attorney general. The views expressed here are hers. View more opinion on CNN.

(CNN) A white nationalist opened fire in a synagogue in Poway, California, just days ago. But right now, in some toxic corner of the internet, others like him are already planning another attack. Or they're spewing racist hate and glorifying violence -- and their hordes of followers are posting and sharing.

Amy Spitalnick

Those of us tracking the disturbing rise of far-right hate know — because that's what happened in Charlottesville, Virginia, where Integrity First for America, the group I direct, is helping residents sue the two dozen neo-Nazis, white supremacists, and hate groups who planned and executed the August 2017 violence. These defendants are a who's who of the white nationalist movement: the individuals who run neo-Nazi sites like the Daily Stormer, the groups that are responsible for the majority of white nationalist propaganda on US college campuses, the creator of the term "alt-right."

The violent attacks that killed Heather Heyer and injured numerous others weren't spontaneous; they were the result of months of meticulous online planning on websites like Discord, a site created for video gamers that was co-opted by these defendants to plan the violence. These men spent months hyping up their followers for a weekend of violence against minorities and discussing details down to which weapons to bring. Their postings served as a virtual road map, going so far as to discuss whether it's legal to run over protesters and sharing an image of a "protestor digestor" tractor. The defendants tried to block the suit on free speech grounds, a petition the court rejected

There was a time when even white supremacists believed their goals, like the creation of a white ethnostate, were too radical to achieve through conventional advocacy. They conducted themselves in the shadows, not in the public sphere. Meetings took place in the woods; they wore hoods and robes to protect their anonymity. For many avowed supremacists, spewing hatred was more of a side hustle than a full-time job.

But times have changed. Emboldened by some political leaders who refuse to condemn this hate, white supremacists have stepped proudly out of the shadows. They now don suits and ties, give provocative speeches at public universities, and use these online platforms to organize "rallies" that quickly descend into violence, from California to Charlottesville.

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