By Nick Catoggio
Friday, October 31, 2025
Spend any time on Elon Musk’s social media platform and
you’ll run across this quote: “To learn who rules over you, simply find out who
you are not allowed to criticize.”
It’s usually attributed to Voltaire, presumably to make
it sound more profound than it is. But Voltaire didn’t say it. An obscure
white nationalist did, which explains its enduring popularity in Elon’s
virtual Nazi bar. Almost without exception, when you see someone reference
the quote on Twitter, it’s a Jew-hater complaining that he’s not allowed to
criticize the Jews who supposedly rule over him …
… as he goes about criticizing the Jews who supposedly
rule over him.
Shorn of its bigoted subtext, the quote is true enough.
In fact, we’ve had a master class in the phenomenon since January 20. When the
president tries to knock
low-rated TV late-night comedians off the air for griping about him, it’s
not because he feels threatened. It’s because he wants Americans to feel his
power over them in their bones. He means us to understand that he rules over
us, and one way to achieve that is to demonstrate that those who criticize him
do so at their peril.
Needless to say, though, and contrary to the conventional
wisdom among chuds, you are allowed to criticize Jews. For some, doing
so has become a
path to fame and fortune. Any sociopath with a microphone who’s keen to
make it big online and willing to say anything to maximize his chances will do
better in 2025 ruminating about why hating Jews is justified than why it isn’t.
You’re allowed to criticize them. What you’re not allowed
to do is expect immunity from social or professional sanction by those who find
your opinion disgusting. You have freedom of speech, and I have freedom of
association. One would think that a faction that remembers segregation fondly
would appreciate that.
I thought of all of this last night after a video of Kevin
Roberts, head of the Heritage Foundation, went viral. “There has been
speculation that Heritage is distancing itself from Tucker Carlson over the
past 24 hours,” Roberts tweeted, reacting to the uproar over Carlson’s
notorious interview with head groyper Nick Fuentes. “I want to put that to
rest right now.”
And that’s what he did. “We will always defend our
friends against the slander of bad actors who serve someone else’s agenda,” he said
in the clip, declining to explain why criticism of Carlson is “slander” and who
that “someone else” whose agenda is being served might be. “That includes
Tucker Carlson, who remains—and, as I have said before, always will be—a close
friend of the Heritage Foundation. The venomous coalition attacking him are
sowing division. Their attempt to cancel him will fail.”
As for Fuentes, “The American people expect us to be
focusing on our political adversaries on the left, not attacking our friends on
the right. I disagree with, and even abhor, things that Nick Fuentes says, but
canceling him is not the answer either.”
To learn who rules over you, simply find out who you
are not allowed to criticize. Which elements of the venomous modern
right-wing coalition are Kevin Roberts not allowed to criticize? And what
should that teach us about who rules over him?
A watershed.
As interesting to me as the anti-anti-antisemitism in
Roberts’ video was the degree of indignation it inspired in traditional
conservatives, enough so that the Heritage chief hastily backtracked on Friday
with a harsh
attack on Fuentes—but not Carlson. Rarely have I seen non-MAGA
right-wingers as unified or outspoken in their contempt for a prominent Trump
crony as I did on Thursday night. Why is that? Who cares what this obscure
think-tank toadstool believes?
Part of the answer has to do with the organization he
leads. For decades, the Heritage Foundation was a flagship of ideological
Reaganism, enjoying the same sort of esteem and preeminence in right-wing
policymaking circles as National Review did in right-wing punditry. It
was a byword for the conservative establishment.
Under Roberts’ leadership, it’s farted away every ounce
of its credibility by embracing boorish “America First” nationalism and
regularly tongue-shining Donald Trump’s shoes. Conservatives got used to that,
the same way they got used to it from the Republican Party. But watching an
institution as august as Heritage go to bat for sub-Trump sleaze like Carlson
and Fuentes appears to have shaken something loose. This is what
establishment conservatism has come to?
“A watershed moment,” journalist Yashar Ali rightly
called Roberts’ video, as there’s really no clearer proof of how
mainstream Jew-baiting has gone on the right than Reagan’s
favorite think tank whimpering about people being mean to a Nazi incel. And
Ali is likewise right to note that, until this week, Heritage had reserved its
most embarrassing apologias for the president’s behavior. The fact that Roberts
has now begun tongue-shining the shoes of antisemitic influencers says a lot
about what he thinks the post-Trump right will look like.
Conservatives, I suspect, are also unnerved by some of
the implications in his defense of Carlson and Fuentes.
For instance, Roberts describes the condemnation the two
received this week as an attempt to “cancel” them. It isn’t. As I’ve explained
before, “Cancel culture, properly understood, is an attempt to bully
institutions like businesses into enforcing one faction’s cultural preferences
in the absence of moral consensus around those preferences.” People get
upset when someone is fired for saying “trans women aren’t women” because
there’s no moral consensus around that subject. People don’t get very upset
when someone is fired for saying “Hitler did nothing wrong” because there is a
moral consensus around that one.
Or was. Framing objections to antisemitism as a matter of
“cancel culture” was Roberts’ way of challenging the consensus about whether
prejudice against Jews is inherently wrong. He believes it’s wrong, he
was careful to say in his video, but he’s implying that the question is no
longer settled; it’s now a matter of live debate, and it’s unfair to punish
someone for participating in a live debate. The venomous coalition of the garbage-populist
right is bent on moving America’s Overton window toward the “Jewish question,”
and the head of the Heritage Foundation, in his small toadstoolish way, is
abetting the effort.
Then there’s the no-enemies-to-the-right logic that he
used initially to defend Fuentes.
“The American people expect us to be focusing on our
political adversaries on the left,” Roberts whined, “not attacking our friends
on the right.” That quote is part of a rich postliberal tradition in which
every vicious, fascist impulse a Republican has is somehow the fault of
liberals. An illegal third term for Trump? Bad idea—unless an elderly
Democratic pundit starts running his mouth. Presidential abuses of power?
Undesirable—but, as our very “normal
and patriotic” vice president put
it, “we cannot be afraid to do something because the left might do it in
the future. The left is already going to do it regardless of whether we do it.”
Two Jew-baiters backslapping each other in an interview
and setting off a giant moral stinkbomb in the process? Not great for the right
in the abstract, maybe—but how can we afford to marginalize them when fighting
the left is so important?
I say this advisedly, without exception: Anyone who
resorts to argumentation like this to avoid confronting moral derelicts inside
their own tent is a coward or a louse. It’s nice that Roberts has been
belatedly browbeaten (by Heritage donors, presumably) into deciding that Nick Fuentes
isn’t “our friend” after all, but Carlson apparently remains a chum in good
standing. Either Roberts means to normalize the sort of poison that Tucker is
selling or he’s afraid to confront a postliberal as powerful as him, dodging a
reckoning by hiding behind anti-left logic that would, taken to its conclusion,
justify literally any abhorrent right-wing behavior one can think of.
And the punchline, which you already know if you’re
familiar with types who argue like this, is that … no one is more likely to
attack fellow right-wingers than the cretins who complain about attacking
fellow right-wingers. The glorious crusade against the left that obliges us to
unite and bite our tongues about Carlson and Fuentes somehow never obliges
Tucker to bite his tongue about hawks like Mark Levin or Fuentes to bite his
tongue about Charlie Kirk—or, er, Donald Trump.
“No enemies to the right” is a feeble scam aimed at populists to shift their
allegiance toward radicals and away from conservatives. You would think we’d
all understand that by now, considering that the president himself has been
running that con since 2015.
A coward or a louse: Only Kevin Roberts knows which he
is, but it’s one or the other.
Triangulation.
I’d like to believe that the burst of moral disgust at
Roberts, Carlson, and Fuentes that’s playing out among conservatives will carry
on into 2028 and the next presidential primary.
I’d like to believe that the righteous resistance to
groyper-ism being shown by senators like Ted Cruz and
Mitch McConnell
might cause them to break with the GOP if the party ends up with a nominee who
shares either Roberts’ Thursday-night belief that Tucker and Nick are “our
friends” or his Friday-afternoon belief that only Carlson is.
But I don’t believe that, because I haven’t been in a
coma for the past 10 years.
On Thursday, Erick Erickson wrote, “In 2016,
they told us we had to unite with Trump to stop Hillary. In 2024, we’re
‘globalists’ if we don’t want to unite with the Neo-Nazis. The ratchet always
tightens.” That’s an insightful point, and not just as an indictment of the
inherent extremism of no-enemies-to-the-right logic. It connects the right’s
appetite for Carlson and Fuentes back to Trump, who, for all his faults,
doesn’t share their preoccupation with certain rootless cosmopolitans. The
president’s 2016 campaign conditioned Republicans to believe that any
principle, moral or ideological, should be sacrificed for power. Everything
that’s happened on the right since then, up to and including Roberts’
genuflecting before purveyors of antisemitism, is a footnote to it.
The funny thing about Erickson’s tweet, though, is that he
did unite with Trump after opposing him initially. So did Cruz, of
course. And so did McConnell, although the current status of the two men’s
relationship is, er, complicated. The moral energy behind the backlash to
Carlson and Fuentes this week reminds me a lot of Never Trump conservatism
circa 2016, in fact, which initially burned brightly but succumbed to fatalism
after the president was nominated and tribalism as the specter of a Clinton
presidency loomed.
Republicans warmed up to the president. Why wouldn’t they
warm up to the post-Fox-News version of Carlson?
Or, better yet, why wouldn’t they warm up to a
Carlson-friendly name they know, like J.D. Vance, who’s hard at work figuring
out how to triangulate, if only through strategic
silence, the growing divide between antisemitic and anti-antisemitic
Republicans?
Take three minutes and watch the exchange
between Vance and a student in a red MAGA hat at a Turning Point USA event
this week. The student begins by criticizing U.S. aid to Israel but ends with a
Fuentes-esque flourish, saying of Jews (to applause from the crowd!) that “not
only does their religion not agree with ours, but also openly supports the
prosecution of ours.” And the vice president … does not correct him.
He doesn’t agree either, of course. He ignores the claim.
But in defending Trump’s Israel policy, Vance notably says at one point that
“when people say that Israel is somehow manipulating or controlling the
president of the United States, they’re not controlling this president
of the United States, which is one of the reasons why would we be able to have
some of the success that we’ve had in the Middle East.” That sure sounds like
he’s granting the possibility that Israel did “manipulate or control”
other presidents, if not his boss.
That’s how it’s going to go for the next three years, I
suspect. Vance will ignore the right’s divide over the “Jewish question”
whenever possible. Occasionally, he’ll be cornered on it and will tactfully
affirm that antisemitism is wrong before changing the subject. Meanwhile, he’ll
continue to seize opportunities to defend right-wing bigots
whenever those opportunities present themselves to show the Tuckerites that he
has no problem with them, even if the political realities of winning a general
election prevent him from allying with them forthrightly.
Vance will, in brief, do his best not to take a side. And
for most Republicans, including some of those who are angry at Carlson,
Fuentes, and Roberts right now, that’ll be enough of a moral fig leaf for them
to justify continuing to support the GOP. There will be no right-wing crack-up.
In fact, I’d be lying if I said it hadn’t crossed my mind
that some of the Republican politicians who have denounced, and will yet
denounce, Fuentes might be doing so not because of moral indignation but simply
because they believe antisemitism is a political and electoral loser. That too
is reminiscent of Never Trumpism circa 2016. A lot of conservatives who
pronounced the president an unfit degenerate who could never win decided that
he wasn’t so unfit or degenerate once he did.
Right, Marco?
Us and them.
For now, though, and for the foreseeable future, the
Carlson-Fuentes saga will continue to bother many right-wing partisans by
testing the core conviction on which their partisanship rests, that the worst
Republican remains preferable to practically any Democrat. Trump has dined out
on that logic for a decade; no matter how horribly he behaves, the thinking
goes, America is better off with him in charge than a demonic communist antifa
terrorist like Kamala Harris or Gavin Newsom or Josh Shapiro or whoever. Better
fascism than left-liberalism!
Is an antisemitic Republican better than any
Democrat, though? Well … better right-wing antisemitism in the White House than
left-wing antisemitism, no?
That’ll be the GOP’s pitch in 2028 to critics of Carlson
and Fuentes, all but daring them to do something they haven’t been willing to
do in the last three presidential races—namely, boycott an election to protest
the scumbaggery of the Republican nominee rather than dutifully turn out and
rationalize him somehow as the lesser of two scumbags.
We’ll see how many partisan conservatives have it in ’em.
A few will, but I suspect most will not. Having deluded themselves for years
into believing that there might be such a thing as pluralistic postliberalism
(imagine thinking a movement that
admires Carl Schmitt might be inclusive of Jews), it will be easier to drop
the delusion than to drop their loyalty to the party they’ve spent their lives
supporting. They’ve already gotten used to making common cause with goblins who
call themselves “heritage
Americans” to tout their supposed ancestral claim to tribal dominance over
the United States. They’ll get used to the logic of Kevin Roberts, a different
kind of Heritage American, as well.
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