The medium might be new, but the online far right is exploiting the same structures that have sustained violence for generations
This article written by Irish peace activist Emma DeSouza is part of our Voices series on how to fight hate, from the Autumn 2026 issue of New Humanist. To read the rest of the series, subscribe now.
In June, riots broke out in Northern Ireland, following a knife attack for which a 30-year-old refugee, believed to be Sudanese, has been charged with attempted murder. What unfolded after the stabbing was two days of violent disorder. Family homes and businesses were targeted in acts of blatant racism. Men with their faces covered stormed the streets and cars were set alight, as was a city bus, forcing the public transport system to come to a halt. For two days, entire communities were held to ransom by violent thugs, encouraged by far-right, anti-immigrant networks.
Throughout history, extremists have exploited social anxiety and political alienation by redirecting public anger towards those with the least power. The difference today is a matter of scale. Where previous generations relied on pamphlets and local rallies, today’s bad-faith actors have access to an inexpensive, instantaneous global distribution network. Far-right networks utilise social media to divide society for their own political or financial gain, while individuals, incentivised by the pursuit of clicks, join in a grotesque race to the bottom.
This trend was accelerated by the 2016 Brexit referendum. Fuelled by misinformation, anti-immigrant rhetoric and increasingly polarised public discourse, the campaign did more than deliver the UK’s departure from the European Union; it legitimised narratives that had previously occupied the political fringes.
In the years that followed the referendum, far-right influencers and conspiracy networks found fertile ground online, while instances of hate crime rose across the UK and political debate became increasingly defined by division rather than consensus.
Northern Ireland is especially vulnerable to this digitally enabled politics of division. Despite being a post-conflict society, the region is still in the process of working through its history of segregation. We know better than most how violence evolves; it begins with the dehumanisation of individuals deemed to be “other”, followed by intimidation and inflammatory language which inevitably escalate into attacks on homes and businesses, and disorder on our streets. Social media has not invented these dynamics, but it has accelerated them.
The geography of the June riots was neither random nor unpredictable, concentrated broadly in communities that have endured decades of economic neglect in Belfast, Portadown and Derry, where educational attainment, employment opportunities and life expectancy continue to lag behind the Northern Ireland average. Many of these so-called “sink estates” remain places where poverty is inherited and aspiration is constrained. Absent opportunity, paramilitary influence continues to fill the vacuum.
In the aftermath of June’s racist pogrom the police have confirmed that loyalist paramilitaries were actively present and involved in “directing” people at some sites, including in East Belfast. Meanwhile, both loyalist and republican figures from Northern Ireland, and beyond, were involved in the online coordination of disorder. Violence in Northern Ireland rarely exists independently of the structures that have sustained it for generations. The far right has not replaced these structures; rather, it has exploited them with devastating consequences. Hundreds of people reported themselves as homeless due to intimidation and racism following the two days of violent unrest.
This is not simply a story about racism or immigration; it is about what succeeds decades of political failure that has left communities without meaningful economic opportunity and confidence in democratic institutions. Into that vacuum step those peddling attractive narratives and convenient enemies for undiscerning tribalists more preoccupied with finding a scapegoat than a solution. The same conditions that once allowed paramilitary organisations to exert overt control over communities can now be exploited by a transnational far right that understands the power of grievance, identity and resentment, further empowering the remaining paramilitary groups.
There are no quick fixes to tackling hate in Northern Ireland because the hatred itself is rarely the root cause of societal division; it is the symptom of deeper political, economic and social failures. Breaking the cycle requires more than policing the aftermath of violence; it demands sustained investment in the communities left behind by the peace process, greater digital literacy to counter online radicalisation, meaningful regulation of platforms that profit from division, and political leadership willing to challenge prejudice rather than exploit it.
