Dehumanizing tropes, antisemitic and racist slurs, dog whistles, euphemisms, hyperbole: these and other markers of fascist language have become increasingly familiar in recent years. Synagogue and mosque shooters or Black church arsonists have deployed them in manifestos and on online platforms. Right-wing politicians, from Poland to Brazil, from the Philippines to the U.S., have made use of them, propagating them from the highest civic offices imaginable. Social media trolls and bots have disseminated “vermin talk” in multiple languages at once. In response, journalists, activists, poets, translators, scholars, and the public have begun exploring the ways to identify, avoid, and excise such idiom, with the goal of ensuring that civic language remains not fascist.

However, what does “not fascist” mean? Does the phrase describe a language that merely lacks fascist characteristics? Or, rather, a language that actively opposes the spread of fascist propaganda? A language that isn’t assimilable into the Right’s recent efforts to appear groomed, presentable, approachable? A language that can diffuse right-wing verbal abuse on social media as much as aid in real-life confrontations, ever more frequent at protests, at public book readings, and during parliamentary debates? A language that will outlast any specific political leader’s time in power? If so, “antifascist language” would be a more germane notion.

What is antifascist language, whom should it serve, and how can it thrive in a multicultural, multilingual society—which, at present, is virtually every society? These questions are relevant across borders, but they are especially salient on the eve of the 2020 presidential election in the U.S. At this crucial moment, the symposium would bring activists, poets, writers, journalists, and academics from a variety of fields (from philosophy and literary studies to education and anthropology). Together, they will debate strategies for altering the dispiriting status quo when fascist language enjoys the dubious privilege of being remarkable, yet its opposite remains an unmarked, nondescript, invisible default.