Cultic Studies Journal, Volume 17, 2000, Page 25
the designated out-groups. The fact that members of such groups respond angrily to such
suggestions, and even organize counter-demonstrations, becomes further evidence to the
cultist that he or she is surrounded by enemies. The drawbridge forming a link to reality is
raised. On the other hand, if there is no public reaction, it merely constitutes evidence that
the conspiracy has grown even more devious in covering its tracks.
Accordingly, the belief system is immune to falsification. Whatever happens, whatever could
possibly happen, is taken as evidence of its essential correctness. Many Identity
enthusiasts, for example, argue vehemently that the Oklahoma bombing in 1995 was part
of a plot to discredit the right and was actually the work of the US Government, (Tourish &
Wohlforth, 2000). The Waco siege in 1993 was not a bungled FBI operation, but a ZOG
inspired assault on Christian dissenters. One long time supremacist, Eustace Mullins,
penned the following critique of what occurred:
The Waco Church Holocaust, in which many worshippers, including innocent
children, were burned alive while worshiping in their church (was) an
atrocity which surpasses the worst accusations made against the Nazis in
Germany. (Cited by Stern, 1996, p.64)
In essence, paranoia is the nearest thing we have to a perpetual motion machine. It
requires no further impetus than a starting point, and a modest injection of determination.
The more self-contained its social environment and the fewer inputs it receives from the
outside world, the stronger it is likely to become. As Dyer (1998, p.112) has put it:
The power of conspiracy rests in faith: in the ability to believe in things
unseen, to be sure of something that cannot be proven by our senses or by
documentation. Faith has always been a stronger force in the world than
mere reason, and because of that, debunking conspiracy theories is almost
impossible.
Conspiracy theories can sink such deep roots because members of hate groups tend to see
those in minority categories as interchangeable with all other members of the category.
However brilliant their achievements, the fact of their group membership is the most
important thing about them. In this world, we do not live in communities composed of
individual people. Rather, we are besieged by homogeneous hordes of aliens, devils, rabid
feminists, half-apes, and sodomites, all out to get us.
This perspective is so often contagious precisely because the habit of blanket categorisation
is practised far beyond the confines of Identity inspired communes and rural retreats.
Hence, the social climate for supremacist ideas is frequently nurturing. The Christian
Identity movement simply gives such categorisation a more strident form, and proclaims it
with pride rather than shame. Furthermore, it seeks to turn prejudice from a mood of
incandescent anger into a coherent movement, capable of imposing a separatist agenda on
the wider society.
Uncertainty, Stereotyping, and Cult Recruitment
We live in a period of unprecedented social change. Clearly, many of the changes endured
in the past two decades (e.g., downsizing, delayering, globalization) have been profoundly
painful for millions of people. Identity theology draws much of its strength from a reaction
against this upheaval. Many commentators have extolled the virtues of rapid change and
urged people to embrace it willingly (e.g., Peters, 1992). In general, such counsel is as
successful as that of a surgeon who grimly urges her patients to ―enjoy your operation.‖ It
simply runs counter to how most of us feel. For example, in terms of work, people generally
prefer to do a job the way in which it has been learned, performed, and reinforced in the
past (Moorhead &Griffin, 1989). Change makes our world less familiar, predictable, and
comfortable, and we therefore tend to react instinctively against it. In turn, the desire to
the designated out-groups. The fact that members of such groups respond angrily to such
suggestions, and even organize counter-demonstrations, becomes further evidence to the
cultist that he or she is surrounded by enemies. The drawbridge forming a link to reality is
raised. On the other hand, if there is no public reaction, it merely constitutes evidence that
the conspiracy has grown even more devious in covering its tracks.
Accordingly, the belief system is immune to falsification. Whatever happens, whatever could
possibly happen, is taken as evidence of its essential correctness. Many Identity
enthusiasts, for example, argue vehemently that the Oklahoma bombing in 1995 was part
of a plot to discredit the right and was actually the work of the US Government, (Tourish &
Wohlforth, 2000). The Waco siege in 1993 was not a bungled FBI operation, but a ZOG
inspired assault on Christian dissenters. One long time supremacist, Eustace Mullins,
penned the following critique of what occurred:
The Waco Church Holocaust, in which many worshippers, including innocent
children, were burned alive while worshiping in their church (was) an
atrocity which surpasses the worst accusations made against the Nazis in
Germany. (Cited by Stern, 1996, p.64)
In essence, paranoia is the nearest thing we have to a perpetual motion machine. It
requires no further impetus than a starting point, and a modest injection of determination.
The more self-contained its social environment and the fewer inputs it receives from the
outside world, the stronger it is likely to become. As Dyer (1998, p.112) has put it:
The power of conspiracy rests in faith: in the ability to believe in things
unseen, to be sure of something that cannot be proven by our senses or by
documentation. Faith has always been a stronger force in the world than
mere reason, and because of that, debunking conspiracy theories is almost
impossible.
Conspiracy theories can sink such deep roots because members of hate groups tend to see
those in minority categories as interchangeable with all other members of the category.
However brilliant their achievements, the fact of their group membership is the most
important thing about them. In this world, we do not live in communities composed of
individual people. Rather, we are besieged by homogeneous hordes of aliens, devils, rabid
feminists, half-apes, and sodomites, all out to get us.
This perspective is so often contagious precisely because the habit of blanket categorisation
is practised far beyond the confines of Identity inspired communes and rural retreats.
Hence, the social climate for supremacist ideas is frequently nurturing. The Christian
Identity movement simply gives such categorisation a more strident form, and proclaims it
with pride rather than shame. Furthermore, it seeks to turn prejudice from a mood of
incandescent anger into a coherent movement, capable of imposing a separatist agenda on
the wider society.
Uncertainty, Stereotyping, and Cult Recruitment
We live in a period of unprecedented social change. Clearly, many of the changes endured
in the past two decades (e.g., downsizing, delayering, globalization) have been profoundly
painful for millions of people. Identity theology draws much of its strength from a reaction
against this upheaval. Many commentators have extolled the virtues of rapid change and
urged people to embrace it willingly (e.g., Peters, 1992). In general, such counsel is as
successful as that of a surgeon who grimly urges her patients to ―enjoy your operation.‖ It
simply runs counter to how most of us feel. For example, in terms of work, people generally
prefer to do a job the way in which it has been learned, performed, and reinforced in the
past (Moorhead &Griffin, 1989). Change makes our world less familiar, predictable, and
comfortable, and we therefore tend to react instinctively against it. In turn, the desire to
















































































































































