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History of violence: How the SPLC's demonization racket helped set the stage for at least 1 shooting

3 weeks ago


The Southern Poverty Law Center was formally incorporated in 1971 by a pair of Alabama lawyers keen on handling anti-discrimination cases and advancing the cause of civil rights in the United States.

The SPLC morphed over time into a smear- and fear-mongering racket, raking in millions of dollars in contributions — over $106.47 million in fiscal year 2024 alone — and paying its executives gargantuan salaries while both attacking law-abiding conservatives and allegedly funding the very extremism it purportedly seeks to curb.

On Tuesday, the Justice Department announced that a grand jury in Alabama returned an indictment charging the SPLC with 11 counts of wire fraud, false statements to a federally insured bank, and conspiracy to commit concealment money laundering.

The organization is accused of secretly dumping over $3 million in donated funds to individuals linked to various extremist groups, including the Ku Klux Klan, Aryan Nations, and National Socialist Party of America — groups the SPLC was supposedly fighting against.

'The SPLC hate group label will almost undoubtedly make it into press reports about future events.'

While liberal donors might now be waking up to the fact that the SPLC is a radical and rotten organization, conservatives have long recognized it as a menace and for good reason: The SPLC's mischaracterizations and alarmist rhetoric helped set the stage for at least one shooting.

The Family Research Council is a conservative think tank that promotes family, marriage, and the rights of the unborn and speaks forcefully against divorce, pornography, and sexual deviancy. By maintaining orthodox and principled biblical stances on various social issues, the FRC found itself on the SPLC's radar.

The liberal hate racket listed the Family Research Council as an "anti-gay group" in a winter 2010 report and put it on the same list of extremist groups as the Ku Klux Klan and the Aryan Nations — groups that allegedly "have beliefs or practices that attack or malign an entire class of people, typically for their immutable characteristics."

RELATED: SPLC indictment BOMBSHELL: Charlottesville violence allegedly was a leftist-funded 'false flag'

Graeme Sloan/Bloomberg/Getty Images

Heidi Beirich, then-research director at the SPLC, said there was no difference between the FRC and the KKK in the eyes of the SPLC; that "what we're saying is these [anti-gay] groups perpetrate hate — just like those [racist] organizations do."

The SPLC's hate-mongering ultimately set the stage for a terrorist attack against the Family Research Council.

Floyd Lee Corkins II stormed into the office of the FRC in Washington, D.C., armed with a gun on Aug. 15, 2012. Corkins later told investigators that he got the name of the conservative organization from the SPLC's list of alleged anti-gay groups and that he intended to kill as many FRC employees as he could.

'They’d love nothing more than to see TPUSA in the crosshairs.'

The terrorist proved unable to execute his massacre thanks to the bravery of Leonardo Reno Johnson, the unarmed security guard on duty that day.

Despite catching a bullet to the arm, Johnson managed to disarm and subdue the shooter.

"Floyd Corkins was responsible for firing the shot yesterday that wounded one of our colleagues and our friend Leo Johnson," said Tony Perkins, president of the FRC, "but Corkins was given a license to shoot an unarmed man by organizations like the Southern Poverty Law Center."

The SPLC displaced any and all blame for the attack, stating the day after the shooting that "Perkins' accusation is outrageous" and that the FRC "should stop the demonization and affirm the dignity of all people."

As evidenced by its serial demonization of other conservatives and conservative groups, including Turning Point USA and its founder Charlie Kirk, the hate racket clearly did not learn anything from the incident.

The SPLC's "Year in Hate and Extremism 2024" report contained a lengthy section titled "Turing Point USA: A Case Study of the Hard Right in 2024."

This section stated that:

  • "Charlie Kirk’s TPUSA is a well-funded, hard-right organization with links to Southern Poverty Law Center-identified hard-right extremists and a tremendous amount of influence in conservative politics";
  • TPUSA under Kirk was "emblematic" of the American political right's supposed embrace of "aggressive state and federal power to enforce a social order rooted in white supremacy" against a backdrop of "patriarchal Christian supremacy dedicated to eroding the value of inclusive democracy and public institutions";
  • TPUSA was advancing a "narrow vision" that fights for "white, male, Christian dominance in America" and results in the demonization of nonconforming men, women, and "nonbinary people"; and
  • Kirk framed Christianity as superior and Christians as persecuted to justify TPUSA's "extreme, authoritarian vision for the country that threatens the foundation of our democracy."

Kirk knew full-well what the hate racket was up to, stating on May 25, 2025, "The SPLC has added Turning Point to their ridiculous 'hate group' list, right next to the KKK and neo-Nazis, a cheap smear from a washed-up org that’s been fleecing scared grandmas for decades."

"Their game plan? Scare financial institutions into debanking us, pressure schools to cancel us, and demonize us so some unhinged lunatic feels justified targeting us," continued Kirk. "Remember the Family Research Council? An SPLC-inspired gunman went after them. They’d love nothing more than to see TPUSA in the crosshairs."

The day before Kirk's Sept. 10, 2025, assassination at Utah Valley University, the SPLC Hatewatch newsletter named Kirk and TPUSA as extremist, according to testimony entered into the congressional record in December.

Rep. Chip Roy (R-Texas), chairman of the House subcommittee on the Constitution and limited government, said during the same hearing, "As with FRC, in the aftermath of Charlie's assassination, there have been no retractions, no accountability, and no acknowledgment of the risks inherent in branding mainstream political figures as existential threats. These incidents, separated by 13 years but linked by the same targeting architecture, underscore a sobering reality. The SPLC's designations don't merely stigmatize. They can serve as ideological permission slips for individuals already willing to commit political violence."

Unlike Corkins, Kirk's alleged assassin does not appear to have made any mention of the SPLC's smears against his victim.

FRC president Tony Perkins welcomed the charges against the SPLC on Tuesday, noting that "for years, the SPLC has used its platform to label and target organizations with whom it disagrees, often blurring the line between legitimate concern and ideological attack. That kind of reckless characterization doesn't just damage reputations, it has put lives at risk."

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Joseph MacKinnon

Pope Leo's mosque message misses the hardest truth about Islam and Christianity

3 weeks ago


Pope Leo XIV wants Christians and Muslims to focus on what unites them.

That was the clear message of his remarks last week inside a mosque in Algeria. But by highlighting common ground, the pope may be downplaying something just as important: the big and enduring differences — not to mention a long, uneasy history — that continue to shape relations between the two faiths.

Speaking at the Grand Mosque of Algiers on April 13, the pope emphasized mercy, solidarity, and what he called “concrete fraternity.” He urged believers to reject violence, warning that religion without compassion loses sight of human dignity. It was a gracious, carefully calibrated message, one that reflects decades of Catholic outreach to the Muslim world.

Real dialogue, if it is to be more than symbolic, requires more than shared language about peace and dignity. It requires clarity.

But it's only part of the story.

Relations between the papacy and Islam stretch back more than 1,300 years to the era of Pope Donus in the 7th century, when the rapid expansion of Islam transformed the Christian world. What followed was not primarily dialogue, but conflict. Muslim armies swept through formerly Christian lands in North Africa and the Middle East. Europe responded with the Crusades. Constantinople fell. Naval battles like Lepanto became defining moments of civilizational struggle. For much of history, Christianity and Islam encountered each other not in shared spaces of worship, but on opposing sides of war.

That history does not dictate the future, but ignoring it doesn’t lend clarity to the present.

The Catholic Church’s modern approach to Islam largely dates to the Second Vatican Council in the 1960s. Its declaration, Nostra Aetate, marked a turning point, stating that the Church “has a high regard for the Muslims,” who worship the one, merciful God. It called for both sides to move beyond past hostilities and work together for justice and peace.

The Catechism of the Catholic Church builds on that framework. It teaches that Muslims, “together with us, adore the one, merciful God” and are included in God’s plan of salvation. That’s pretty remarkable language, especially when viewed against centuries of conflict. They reflect the Vatican’s deliberate effort to emphasize common ground and reduce religious hostility.

But they do not erase fundamental differences.

Islam rejects the Christian understanding of God as Trinity, denies the divinity of Jesus, and does not accept the central claim of salvation through the cross and resurrection. These are not minor disagreements. They go to the heart of what each religion believes about God and humanity’s relationship to Him. Any serious discussion of Christian-Muslim relations must grapple with that reality.

Previous popes have approached this tension in different ways.

Pope St. John Paul II became the first pope in history to enter a mosque when he visited the Great Mosque of Damascus on May 6, 2001 — a groundbreaking moment in interfaith relations just months before 9/11. That same year, he sparked controversy by kissing the Koran. Supporters saw it as a sign of deep respect. Critics saw it as a confusing gesture that seemed to honor a text at odds with core Christian beliefs. Either way, it highlighted the risks that come with symbolic outreach.

Pope Benedict XVI took a more cautious approach. While committed to dialogue, he stressed that it must be grounded in truth and reason, not just goodwill. He argued that peace requires honesty about differences, including disagreements over religious freedom, an issue that remains unresolved in parts of the Muslim world where Christians face legal or social restrictions.

Pope Leo’s remarks in Algeria clearly point to the Vatican’s emphasis on unity. There is nothing inherently wrong with that. In a fractured world, a call for peace and mutual respect is not only understandable, but it’s also necessary.

There is, however, a difference between emphasizing shared values and presenting an incomplete picture.

Leo spoke movingly about fraternity but said little about the theological differences that define Christianity and Islam. He called for peace but did not address the question of reciprocity — whether Christians are afforded the same freedoms in Muslim-majority countries that Muslims enjoy in the West. He highlighted what unites while leaving largely unspoken what divides.

That move may be diplomatically prudent. It may even be pastorally appropriate in a mosque setting.

But for a global audience, it risks creating the impression that the differences are smaller, or less significant, than they really are.

Real dialogue, if it is to be more than symbolic, requires more than shared language about peace and dignity. It requires clarity. It requires acknowledging that agreement on some moral principles does not erase profound disagreements about truth. And it requires confronting difficult realities, including the uneven state of religious freedom worldwide.

The Catholic Church’s own teaching reflects this balance. It calls for respect toward Muslims, rejects hatred and violence, and encourages cooperation where possible. But it also insists on the uniqueness of Christ and the truth of the gospel. Those elements are not in conflict.

The challenge is maintaining that balance in practice.

Pope Leo XIV’s visit to an Algerian mosque was a powerful symbol of goodwill. It showed a church willing to engage, to listen, and to seek peace across religious boundaries. But symbols, however compelling, are not the whole story.

If interfaith dialogue is to have real substance, it must be rooted not only in what is shared, but also in what is true — and in a clear-eyed understanding of history, theology, and the world as it is.

That is the harder message. It is also a far more necessary one.

Patrick Novecosky