When Antifa radicals gathered in Tacoma, Wash. on January 24, fights erupted, storefronts were destroyed, flags burned and cops were threatened. I had a front-row seat, embedded within the throngs of roughly 150 black bloc thugs ready to leave their mark. But I also became a would-be target.
I thought I would escape attention so that I could avoid a potentially violent confrontation. I was wrong. Antifa knew I was amongst them.
Democratic lawmakers have demanded social media crackdown on online, right-wing violence. Overstated claims that Parler was used to coordinate the January 6th riot at the Capitol led to its demise.
The problem was never Parler. It’s Twitter.
Antifa uses Twitter to threaten or harass media members. If you’re deemed unfriendly, for either openly criticizing Antifa tactics or filming their violence and vandalism, activists will distribute your picture and location with a warning to fellow comrades to be on the lookout. They do not hide their tactics.
I am proudly unfriendly to Antifa. Consequently, I’ve been a victim of their tactics.
Antifa’s black bloc uniforms, meant to obscure the identities of criminals, and the pandemic, has made reporting from the mob much easier. Being able to cover most identifying features lets you blend in. But it’s not always enough to avoid detection.
Inside the Antifa mob, scouts look for perceived enemies filming faces. And they get help online.
Activists monitor Twitter to see if anyone is in or around the Antifa marches, then relay intel to the mob via hashtags. The communication is not sophisticated. Nevertheless, it puts media members in danger and Twitter does virtually nothing to intervene.
About an hour into the march in Tacoma, Antifa knew I was present because I tweeted from the scene.
March with the mob and you’re bound to see someone recording Antifa destroying businesses or tagging property. They are immediately swarmed by two or three Antifa who threaten and demand the footage be deleted. If you talk back, you risk being pushed and punched or having your equipment stolen or destroyed.
I rarely post my footage in real-time, instead of waiting upwards of 30 minutes to give the impression that I’m not actively within the group, but just working the periphery. That’s generally considered safe. But this time, it got attention.
Portland-based Griffin Malone identifies as an independent journalist who says the AP and PBS has used his work. Online, he alerted the mob that I was amongst them.
Malone tweeted my photo and noted, "Jason Rantz is also in Tacoma tonight recording crowds." He denied that he meant me harm, he was just highlighting my coverage. That’s how he escapes Twitter consequences. But a screenshot of my photo, without a link to my Twitter feed, makes his intentions clear. He alerted the mob that I was "recording crowds". That posed a risk to the criminals that surrounded me.
I thought I would escape attention so that I could avoid a potentially violent confrontation. I was wrong. Antifa knew I was amongst them.
Democratic lawmakers have demanded social media crackdown on online, right-wing violence. Overstated claims that Parler was used to coordinate the January 6th riot at the Capitol led to its demise.
The problem was never Parler. It’s Twitter.
Antifa uses Twitter to threaten or harass media members. If you’re deemed unfriendly, for either openly criticizing Antifa tactics or filming their violence and vandalism, activists will distribute your picture and location with a warning to fellow comrades to be on the lookout. They do not hide their tactics.
I am proudly unfriendly to Antifa. Consequently, I’ve been a victim of their tactics.
Antifa’s black bloc uniforms, meant to obscure the identities of criminals, and the pandemic, has made reporting from the mob much easier. Being able to cover most identifying features lets you blend in. But it’s not always enough to avoid detection.
Inside the Antifa mob, scouts look for perceived enemies filming faces. And they get help online.
Activists monitor Twitter to see if anyone is in or around the Antifa marches, then relay intel to the mob via hashtags. The communication is not sophisticated. Nevertheless, it puts media members in danger and Twitter does virtually nothing to intervene.
About an hour into the march in Tacoma, Antifa knew I was present because I tweeted from the scene.
March with the mob and you’re bound to see someone recording Antifa destroying businesses or tagging property. They are immediately swarmed by two or three Antifa who threaten and demand the footage be deleted. If you talk back, you risk being pushed and punched or having your equipment stolen or destroyed.
I rarely post my footage in real-time, instead of waiting upwards of 30 minutes to give the impression that I’m not actively within the group, but just working the periphery. That’s generally considered safe. But this time, it got attention.
Portland-based Griffin Malone identifies as an independent journalist who says the AP and PBS has used his work. Online, he alerted the mob that I was amongst them.
Malone tweeted my photo and noted, "Jason Rantz is also in Tacoma tonight recording crowds." He denied that he meant me harm, he was just highlighting my coverage. That’s how he escapes Twitter consequences. But a screenshot of my photo, without a link to my Twitter feed, makes his intentions clear. He alerted the mob that I was "recording crowds". That posed a risk to the criminals that surrounded me.