Donald Trump's equivocation emboldens alt-right terrorists in Charlottesville and beyond By planting a land mine in a small Virginia town, where an overwhelming majority voted for Clinton, they're spreading fear to other U.S. cities.

Christian Schneider | Opinion columnist

Show Caption Hide Caption White nationalist reacts to Trump condemnation White nationalist Richard Spencer reacted to the U.S. president's belated condemnation of white supremacist groups, claiming the remarks were "not terribly different" from earlier ones that drew criticism for failing to condemn hate groups. (Aug. 15)

"Tonight, I'm asking for the vote of every single African-American citizen in this country who wants to see a better future," then-candidate Donald Trump bellowed to a cheering crowd in Michigan. "What the hell do you have to lose?"

Almost a year later to the day, now we have the answer.

As a recently emboldened white supremacist movement made its way through the streets of Charlottesville, Virginia over the weekend, violence flared up in spots, culminating in 20-year old Ohio man James Alex Fields allegedly slamming his car into a crowd of anti-racism protesters. One woman was killed and 19 others were injured in the attack.

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Shortly after the grisly car assault took place, observers rushed to label it an act of "domestic terrorism." But this is only half right.

Certainly, specific acts of violence constitute terrorism. But terror is also wrought by the mere threat of violence, carried out through so-called "peaceful" marches by white supremacists and their Nazi brethren. When the citronella-wielding bigots filed through the University of Virginia campus under the dark of Friday night, it was a notice to everyone living in a peaceful, progressive community — "we’re here, we're watching, and nobody is safe."

This is the very purpose of terrorism — a small minority gains power not only from random attacks, but the threat such attacks pose to peaceful citizens. It's how small groups of terrorists in foreign nations level the battlefield against the world's superpowers — the unexpectedness of what might happen is what grants them leverage. Randomness and surprise are their armies.

Obviously, the marches themselves don’t meet the legal definition of “terror;” if they remain peaceful, they must still be protected as free speech. But make no mistake about their aims — the white supremacy demonstrations like the one in Charlottesville are meant to intimidate people all over America. They intentionally harken back to the Klan rallies of yesteryear when such marches would end in cross burnings and lynchings.

African-Americans and Hispanics who already had cause to look over their shoulders now have to deal with an emboldened racist movement that is no longer ashamed enough to cover its members' faces in public. If you are a person of color working in an office building in Topeka, Kansas or Bangor, Maine, what assurances do you have that a member of the alt-right isn't sitting in a cubicle thirty feet from yours? (In the ongoing debate over "privilege," this seems to be the most legitimate; whites are largely spared the threat of random violence simply because of their color.)

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This is domestic terrorism. Not just the acts of violence, but the threats of violence white supremacists are now planting in otherwise peaceful communities across America. By planting a land mine in Charlottesville, a city in which 80% of voters supported Hillary Clinton in the 2016 presidential election, they're leaving citizens in other towns wondering where else they might detonate.

And yet the events in Charlottesville unfolded, Americans got to see the president who once promised African-Americans a better future blind to terrorism that shares his skin tone. On Saturday, Trump notably decried "hatred, bigotry and violence on many sides," which provided aid and comfort to the Nazis and white supremacists who thought they were the ones being oppressed. America's most famous racist, former KKK leader David Duke, said they were there to "fulfill the promises of Donald Trump," urging Trump on Twitter to remember that it was "White Americans that put you in the presidency."

As a child growing up in Charlottesville in the early 1980s, all I knew was cheerful bliss. I lived in a neighborhood where as a 9-year old, I walked a half mile home from school and nobody thought anything of it. I recall being stung by a bee behind Hollymead Elementary School, which remains my only unpleasant memory of living in such a stellar town.

This makes it even more heartbreaking to see the people of Charlottesville under siege by a small gang of fringe fear-mongers. America's greatest problem isn't insufficient presidential condemnations — absent Trump's victory, these reprobates would still be marching and spreading their lies online — but they clearly see an opening when the president more quickly criticizes his own allies than white supremacists. (Fortunately, in contrast to Trump, other national Republicans stepped up and strongly condemned the Nazis and other white supremacists by name.)

As Sufjan Stevens once sang, "Even in his heart the devil has to know the water level." But even after making more aggressive statements on Monday - which he immediately undermined by implying on Twitter that he had done so only under duress - Trump's brain still seems to be drowning in an ocean of racist appeasement. Until he fully and consistently denounces the havoc wrought by his appalling supporters, he is actively working with America's enemies.

Christian Schneider is a member of USA TODAY’s Board of Contributors and a columnist for the Milwaukee Journal Sentinel, where this piece was first published. Follow him on Twitter @Schneider_CM.

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