Author: Joshua Farrell-Molloy

Introduction

On 22 July 2011, Anders Breivik carried out the deadliest terrorist attack in Norway’s history, killing 77 and injuring 320 others. In the hours before he commenced his attack, Breivik first uploaded his 1,518 page manifesto, A European Declaration of Independence – 2083 to the internet.

Breivik’s manifesto has since become “the baton in a relay race of extremists, passed from one terrorist murderer to the next through online communities”, as extremism researcher J.M Berger has remarked. Ever since the Christchurch attacks in 2019, a chain of far-right mass shootings has unfolded involving perpetrators who similarly distributed their manifesto online prior to their attacks. This Insight will reflect on the legacy of the 22 July attacks in establishing the template subsequent far-right terrorists have imitated, examining the evolution of online manifestos since the 2011 attacks and the legacy of Breivik’s manifesto within far-right digital subcultures.

Background: The 2011 Norway attacks and Breivik’s manifesto

On the afternoon of 22 July, Breivik parked a rental van packed with homemade explosives outside buildings in the Government Quarter in central Oslo. After he switched vehicles and drove away from the area, the bomb exploded, killing eight and injuring over 200. Less than two hours later, he then arrived at Utøya island, where the Labour Party-affiliated youth organisation the Workers’ Youth League (AUF) held their annual summer camp. Once ashore, he immediately began firing at the attendees. For over one hour, he roamed the island and killed indiscriminately, murdering 69 people, nearly half of whom were under eighteen. The massacre ended when he eventually surrendered to police.

In Breivik’s court testimony, he claimed the primary objective of his attack was to gain publicity for his manifesto, which he described as a “compendium” made up of three “books”. In the first book, he provided a quasi-historical overview of Islamic imperialism and set out to counter what he perceived as an anti-European “revisionism” of history. Book two, titled “Europe Burning”, described the threat to Europe by “Cultural Marxism” and “Islamisation”. Finally, book three, “A Declaration of preemptive War”, consisted of a self-interview, a detailed manual for terrorist actions, and diary entries documenting his preparations up to the day of the attack. 

A template for terror?

In comparison with the post-Christchurch wave of attacks, Breivik’s 2011 atrocity stands out for two reasons. First, Breivik attacked those he perceived as “traitors”, namely, ‘Cultural Marxists’ whom he deemed responsible for facilitating the “destruction” and “Islamisation” of Europe. Jacob Ware has characterised this target selection as a rare example of a far-right attack against the “near enemy”, borrowing the salafi-jihadist differentiation between the “near enemy”, represented by pro-Western regimes in Muslim countries, and the “far enemy”, referring to the United States, who supported them. Most far-right attacks since Breivik, including those in Christchurch, Poway, and El Paso, have targeted what they perceive as far enemies, such as Muslims, Jews, and minority communities viewed as outsiders and invaders. Far-right attacks against the near enemy hardly occur, with the exception of isolated cases like the murder of British Labour MP Jo Cox in 2016. 

Secondly, Breivik’s attack method – a combination of car bombing and shooting- has not been replicated since. As Macklin and Bjørgo note, this suggests his tactical influence was limited. Breivik, who originally wanted to build three bombs but adapted his plans due to limited resources, initiated his attack by detonating a 950 kg bomb made of a mixture of ammonium nitrate fertiliser and fuel oil (ANFO), just as Timothy McVeigh used in the 1995 Oklahoma City bombing. Today, mass shootings have instead emerged as the sole favoured tactic in far-right terrorist attacks, although this is likely down to the complexity of explosives and comparative simplicity of firearms.

While Breivik’s atrocity remains distinct for these reasons, his act of combining a manifesto with his attack has been his defining legacy which continues to be repeated. This is evidenced through Brenton Tarrant, the perpetrator of the 2019 Christchurch attacks, who serves as the closest example of an attacker to be influenced by Breivik and the catalyst for further copycat attacks. Tarrant’s livestream and viral manifesto enabled his long-lasting infamy in comparison to Breivik, with mentions of his name in subsequent manifestos far outnumbering mentions of any other figure. Nevertheless, Breivik still holds an indirect influence on post-Christchurch terrorists through Tarrant, “who structured his own manifesto along the same lines that Breivik had”, such as borrowing his use of a self-interview format. 

Then and now: Comparing manifestos at a glance

There are similarities between Breivik’s manifesto and those of the post-Christchurch wave. The aforementioned self-interview format initially used by Breivik, was subsequently repeated by others and serves as the most clear residual textual trace in later manifestos. Another similarity is the copying of texts from other sources. Much of Breivik’s text was plagiarised from both the depths of the counter-jihad blogosphere, reflecting the predominant far-right ecosystem of his era, and from sections of Unabomber Ted Kaczynski’s manifesto. The perpetrator of the 2022 Buffalo shooting, Peyton Gendron, similarly plagiarised Kaczynski and much of Tarrant’s manifesto, highlighting how manifestos can still be composed of recycled material.

In addition, there is considerable space given to discussing weaponry. Breivik included extensive and highly detailed information on weapons, including instructional advice for future attackers, descriptions of how he acquired firearms, trained to shoot, sought chemicals and produced explosives. This phenomenon has been repeated in several post-Christchurch manifestos. This theme in manifestos provides practical guidance and inspiration for future terrorists, with the attackers often justifying their firearm selection and evaluating the merits or weaknesses of their weapons. 

Despite the similarities, there are also striking differences between Breivik’s compendium and the post-Christchurch manifestos. Firstly, at 1,518 pages, the length of Breivik’s document is remarkably extensive. The length of the manifestos released in connection with the attacks in Christchurch (74 pages), Poway (7 pages), El Paso (10 pages), Halle (11 pages), Buffalo (180 pages), Bratislava (65 pages) and Jacksonville (27 pages) are each considerably shorter and much more digestible, therefore increasing their accessibility within the far-right extremist milieu. 

Secondly, technological affordances, such as live streaming, enhanced connectivity and apps, have altered how manifestos are uploaded and distributed since 2011. To spread his manifesto, Breivik uploaded it on neo-Nazi forum Stormfront and spent months “email farming”, using two Facebook profiles to add thousands of friends who shared his far-right views, collecting 8109 email addresses. On the day of his attack, he discovered a spam filter only allowed him to send 1000 emails per day, disrupting his distribution strategy and delaying his plans. It has been speculated this saved lives in the Government Quarter. Many had left the area by the time of his bombing. In addition, former prime minister Gro Harlem Brundtland, who visited Utøya on the day of his attack and was a main target, had left by the time Breivik arrived. 

In contrast to Breivik’s experience, post-2019 manifestos were more easily uploaded into digital far-right communities. These manifestos have typically been shared as PDF files on message boards like 8chan, through file hosting service links, or on Telegram. These communities are able to archive and distribute the manifestos quickly and effectively.  

Thirdly, shifts within the digital far-right culture have altered both the production and dissemination strategies of manifestos. Unlike Breivik, Tarrant deployed an informal writing style, incorporating humour, trolling and references to niche memes and in-jokes, which catered to the chan culture he and later far-right terrorists were linked to. This strategic use of humour has been continued by several attackers, including the Jacksonville gunman, who typed his manifesto in Comic Sans font, the Halle shooter, who made anime chan culture references, or the Poway attacker, who referred to jokes about carrying out violence in Minecraft. However, not all far-right shooters inspired by Tarrant have adopted this tone, such as Patrick Crusius, (El Paso), whose much more resigned manner was met with an ambivalent response by some 8chan users. 

Meme culture has also influenced the dissemination of the manifestos. Tarrant’s post, sharing his manifesto and announcing his attack, also called for supporters to “do your part by spreading my message, making memes and shitposting as you usually do”. In contrast, Breivik’s request for readers to “distribute this book to everyone you know”, came with lengthy instructions on storing, translating and converting the document to different file types. 

In terms of the content of Breivik’s compendium, his text is dry, long-winded and presented in an overly-detailed and serious manner. It is perhaps his comparatively boring and monotonous tone that explains the lesser popularity and lack of a deep engagement with his writings among far-right online communities. A glance through references to Breivik’s manifesto in Terrorgram publications reveals his first two books dealing with history and ideology are never cited. The passages engaged with are all taken from ‘Book 3’, “A Declaration of preemptive War” which focused more on his planning of terrorist operations. 

In one such example, the Terrorgram publication ‘Militant Accelerationism’ uses a quote from “Saint Anders Breivik”, for their call for violence in a poster promoting community building through lone actor violence: “This is the big day you have been looking forward to for so long. Countless hours and perhaps years of preparation have rewarded you with this opportunity. Equip yourself and arm up, for today you will become immortal.” In another Terrorgram publication, titled “Do It For The Gram”, a pseudonymous author celebrates and finds humour in Breivik’s explosive manufacturing “lab notes”, which showcased occasional and rare instances of lightheartedness from the terrorist. 

These cases illustrate how far-right digital communities engage with Breivik’s manifesto, by not delving into his ideological writings, but aligning with their glorification of violence and positive reception to humour. This is consistent with observations of Lars Erik Berntzen and Jacob Aasland Ravndal, who examined Breivik’s legacy within the Siege subculture, noting Siege “propaganda never seemed to take much interest in Breivk’s writings, ideas, or person. In many ways, as a self-styled Christian crusader, Breivik may actually have come across as too “straight-edge” and boring for this particular subculture, characterised by its esoteric Nazi-occultism and keen interest in figures such as Charles Manson.”

Conclusion

The legacy of Breivik’s manifesto has been mixed. While Breivik played an important role in the evolution of what has become a ritualised practice in far-right terrorist violence, there does not seem to be serious engagement with his ideological writings in contemporary digital far-right communities, or the manifestos of subsequent attackers. This is likely in part due his text being eclipsed by the emergence of the chain of much more engaging and digestible manifestos in recent years. However, as Macklin and Bjørgo have noted, while Tarrant did more to inspire future terrorists to produce their own manifestos, it was Breivik’s influence which was transmitted through Tarrant and has endured through the chain reaction of the copycat and contagion effect of subsequent far-right mass shooters, whether they did so wittingly or not. 

Meanwhile, when assessing how online manifestos have evolved since 2011, there are clear similarities between Breivik’s manifesto and those published by post-2019 attackers. These include the use of a self-interview format, incidents of plagiarism and extensive discussions on weaponry. However, there are also many differences, which reflect new technological affordances and the shift in the cultural milieu, characterised by increased use of social media and meme culture, in which far-right ideology and the promotion of terrorist violence now thrives. Post-2019 manifestos are considerably shorter and written in a more informal style, making them more digestible for extremist actors and easy to replicate. In addition, they have been distributed among subcultural communities of effective propagandists. 

In response to the continued threat posed by far-right terrorist attacks, we must remember the important role manifestos play in inspiring acts of violence. Hashing databases can store hashes of known manifestos along with any of their translated versions. Effective crisis and incident response protocols can help quickly identify further documents produced and circulated in connection to future attacks, so that platforms can quickly identify and remove the content. However, we should also take into consideration that while future manifestos are likely to continue to imitate their predecessors, they are also likely to evolve through innovative strategies of production and distribution as part of an adversarial shift. It is imperative to keep one step ahead and anticipate their continued evolution, and develop effective strategies flexible enough to counter tactical developments in the future. 

This blog post was originally published as an Insight for the Global Network on Extremism & Technology website (GNET).

While the main headlines after the recent European elections highlighted the surge in far-right gains, another key story was the series of violent attacks against politicians throughout the campaign. A string of incidents that occurred in Germany and Ireland during May and early June underscore the worrying trend of mounting hostility and aggression directed towards politicians in what has become an increasingly incendiary political environment. These attacks, which seem likely to continue, pose an ongoing threat to the democratic process.

The physical and verbal harassment of politicians by the electorate has become more frequent in recent years. During the 2019 European Parliament elections, the act of “milkshaking” became a viral protest tactic in the UK, as milkshakes were thrown at right-wing and far-right political candidates, sparking debates on whether or not it normalised political violence. During the COVID-19 restrictions, aggressive anti-lockdown and anti-vaccine protests targeted and intimidated politicians across Europe, with widespread death threats, verbal harassment, and protests outside the homes of public officials becoming commonplace.

Throughout the 2024 European Parliament election campaign, these developments intensified. In Ireland, where the backdrop of an anti-immigration backlash has fuelled protests at accommodation centres housing international protection applicants, the tense political environment has significantly heightened the danger towards public officials. A concurrent local election campaign has stood out for a shocking wave of violence and threats directed at candidates, with opposition to immigration typically triggering confrontations targeting those canvassing on campaign trails, ranging from verbal to physical attacks.

Earlier in May, Independent Councillor Tania Doyle and her husband were violently assaulted while putting up posters in Dublin by two men aggravated about immigration. On the same day, Councillor Janet Horner, a Green Party representative was also similarly attacked while hanging election posters in Dublin by a man espousing far-right views. Two women campaigning for the Social Democrats also reported to have been threatened with a knife while out canvassing by two men. Meanwhile, a man was arrested after allegedly threatening to kill anti-immigration campaigner and European election candidate Malachy Steenson, highlighting how opposition to the growing wave of far-right ideology can also prompt threats and intimidation. Violent attacks and threats of this nature in Ireland are unprecedented in recent memory.

Alongside these incidents, the far-right was particularly preoccupied with non-white candidates running in the Irish elections. The canvassing team of Suzzie O’Deniyi, a candidate for Fianna Fáil in Limerick, whose parents are from Nigeria, was subject to racist and misogynstic abuse by a man who filmed and followed them. Sarah Adedeji, a Fine Gael candidate received similar abuse while putting up her election posters. Footage circulating on social media showed Linkwinstar Mattathil Mathew, a Fine Gael election candidate from India, being ordered by men to take down his election posters, while independent candidate, Roopesh Kumar Panicker, also originally from India, reported being subject to such constant racist abuse, that he no longer felt safe, stating “I’ve stopped picking up the calls. I’m scared of who’s going to say what.”

Meanwhile, in Germany, there have been similar developments, where verbal and physical attacks on politicians have more than doubled since 2019. Throughout May, as the campaigns for European Parliament and district council elections got underway, a number of high-profile assaults targeting politicians took place as both government and opposition parties members and their supporters faced physical and verbal attacks, leading to calls for more police protection for politicians at election rallies.

Matthias Ecke, a politician with the center-left Social Democratic Party (SPD) and member of European Parliament, was hospitalised after being beaten by a group of men while hanging campaign posters in Dresden. The same group of men also ambushed a Green Party campaigner in the same area just before the attack, punching and kicking him to the ground. Another attack in Dresden targeted Greens candidate Yvonne Mosler, who was assaulted and spat upon while hanging posters in an attack caught on camera by a DW film crew. Franziska Giffey, a Berlin State Senator and German politician of the SPD was hospitalised after being hit on the head and neck from behind with a bag “filled with hard contents” during a visit to a library in the capital. 

Attacks are not only directed at left-leaning and Greens politicians, but have targeted those across the political spectrum, including an assault on Roderich Kiesewetter, a conservative parliamentarian by a far-right activist in Aalen, an assault on two AfD politicians at an information stand in Stuttgart and most recently, an AfD candidate was stabbed in Mannheim after confronting a man who had been taking down his election posters. The latter attack took place just days after, and in the same city as, an Islamist knife attack on members of an anti-Islam party, in which five people were injured and an intervening police officer was killed. 

The threat posed by ideologically orientated attacks comes from a mixture of far-right, far-left and other issue-specific grievances. Statistics show that when all kinds of threats, verbal and physical attacks are counted, the Greens havebeen subject to most of the surging harassment in Germany, with its members reporting in 2023 that incidents had risen sevenfold since 2019. The AfD, are the second-most targeted party, but suffered more violent attacks (86 recorded in 2023) on AfD party representatives than any other party. Some politician attack perpetrators have also suffered from mental health problems, or have not yet been established as having a clear political motive, such as a recent assault on the Danish Prime Minister.

Taken together, events in Ireland and Germany represent samples of what is a broader trend happening not just across Europe, but also beyond. In the United States, threats to public officials has also grown, with federal charges for such offences rising by nearly 60 percent over the last ten years, and numbers on track to reach record highs. That these attacks are occurring more frequently suggests a worrying societal shift, in which violence and threats directed at political figures is being increasingly normalised and considered justified by a growing number.

Electoral candidates, often made vulnerable to violence through their campaigning activities, risk reducing their democratic participation due to intimidation. The level and range of threats varies for different political parties, with left-leaning and pro-environmental parties bearing the brunt of incidents and far-right activists at a higher risk of violence. However, it is female and non-white candidates who are perhaps at a higher risk of reducing their participation in election campaigns due to being disproportionately affected by feelings of insecurity. As physical attacks and harassment against politicians continues, defending the democratic process may require installing measures to better protect these elected representatives and candidates from threats and physical harm.

On 26 April the UK became the first country in the world to proscribe the ‘Terrorgram Collective’. From today, membership, support, or the display of articles associated with the network is now illegal and can carry a punishment of up to 14 years in prison or an unlimited fine. The listing of Terrorgram represents a novel use of the proscription power as it is the first time that an online terror network has been proscribed as a terrorist organisation in the UK under the Terrorism Act 2000. The wording of the act has been deemed sufficiently broad enough to encompass such a network, despite its “entirely fluid, online presence”.

Terrorgram is a network of neo-fascist terrorists based on the encrypted messaging app Telegram. They promote militant accelerationism, a doctrine which strives to bring about the collapse of liberal, democratic and capitalist societies, by placing pressure on and exacerbating “latent social divisions, often through violence, thus hastening societal collapse”. Terrorgram produces and disseminates violent propaganda and instructional material to encourage terrorism. This includes digital publications in the form of zines, collectively authored by individuals across the network, which stand out for their visually appealing aesthetic and graphics providing instructions for bomb-making or sabotaging critical infrastructure.

Another hallmark of Terrorgram is ‘Saints Culture’, where far-right terrorists, including the Christchurch attacker Brenton Tarrant and Oklahoma City bomber Timothy McVeigh, are glorified and worshipped as ‘Saints’ in visual propaganda. By sanctifying each new perpetrator and retroactively anointing historical white supremacist terrorists as martyrs, Terrorgram encourages the mobilisation of further attackers by community-building around the cause of ‘white terror’.

In October 2022, the first attack linked to Terrorgram took place, when Juraj Krajčík, shot and killed two and injured a third outside an LGBTQ+ bar in Bratislava, Slovakia. Krajčík addressed and thanked Terrorgram for their propaganda in his manifesto and directed readers to Terrorgram publications, praising them for “building the future of the White revolution, one publication at a time.” The Terrorgram collective responded by enthusiastically adding him to their pantheon of Saints, and anointed him as “Terrorgram’s first Saint”.

Terrorgram is the 81st group to be proscribed in the UK, and the sixth Extreme Right-Wing terrorist organisation to be listed, alongside National Action (2016), Sonnenkrieg Division and Feuerkrieg Division (2020), Atomwaffen Division/National Socialist Order and The Base (2021). The inclusion of Terrorgram showcases the ability of the proscription tool to be used against an online terrorist network and highlights how existing legislation, which has traditionally been geared towards groups and organisations, can be applied to emerging terrorist threats in a digital age to meet the challenge posed by a post-organisational terrorist landscape. I spoke to Jonathan Hall KC, the Independent Reviewer of Terrorism Legislation in the UK, about the significance of Terrorgram’s proscription:

How does the decision to proscribe an online network like the Terrorgram collective, rather than a ‘traditional’ group, reflect the evolving nature of terrorist threats in the digital age?

It strongly reflects the evolving terrorist threat in the digital age, it’s not the first predominantly online group that has been prescribed. In the UK there have been groups like Sonnenkrieg Division, Feuerkrieg Division and Atomwaffen which have a very strong online presence, but have been involved, either here or abroad, in physical acts. What is unique about Terrorgram collective is that it’s being proscribed purely because of its online content. 

It reflects the nature of the threat and the risk. Online content is just becoming more and more dangerous, persuasive, and effective. It’s capable of being exploited very effectively by tech-savvy actors and there is an emerging aspect of accelerationism, which is so actor neutral. It doesn’t matter who carries out the acts. All they want to do is to inspire someone, and that can be someone anywhere in the world. As we have seen, the Terrorgram collective’s propaganda inspired that attack in Bratislava.

How has Terrorgram met the proscription criteria?  

So, the really interesting one is the fact that it is assessed to be an organisation. If you look at the government’s explanatory memorandum to the draft statutory instrument, it talks about a ‘core leadership’, which directs the output. So, first of all, it qualifies as an organisation, which is a necessary aspect if it is going to be proscribed under UK law. Because only groups or organisations can be proscribed. You can’t proscribe an individual, you can’t proscribe content, you can only proscribe an organisation. So that was a really crucial assessment.

And then the criteria, there’s the single criteria of being ‘concerned in terrorism’. But that means, and there are two limbs of this, one is that it ‘promotes or encourages terrorism’, and that’s pretty self-explanatory. The interesting one here, is that it was also assessed that it ‘prepares for terrorism’, and this has a slightly extended meaning. It prepares by providing instructional material to other people. So, its helping other people prepare for their acts and that could be, for example, providing a manual on how to carry out a knife or weapons attack or how to build a 3D-printed gun or something of that nature. So, it’s assessed to actually be involved in facilitating other people’s attacks. 

Do you anticipate any challenges in enforcing the proscription of an online network like Terrorgram, particularly in terms of identifying and prosecuting individuals involved in its activities?

I think it depends on the facts. The government has been able to assess there is a core leadership, so it then depends on where that core leadership is located, and whether or not there is any evidence that can be used to prosecute them. So, the primary response of proscription is to find the members and prosecute them. As I say, if they are in the UK that’s possible. If they are not in the UK, it is going to be very difficult. It depends on their operational security; it depends on whether there will be any useful evidence they are responsible for the Terrorgram collective. So, there is this question of facts, is there any evidence? 

Probably, the greater dividend is the ability to say to tech companies they should remove any branded material, because this is now a UK proscribed organisation. And the fact that the UK has proscribed, is seen as a legitimate reason for removing material. It’s a step beyond the bounds of what is acceptable. So it is probably going to be used most, I mean I can’t say for sure, but as a way of disrupting its presence on the internet. 

This actually brings us to my next question. What role could the proscription of online networks play in addressing the dissemination of terrorist content, such as instructional material aimed at aiding preparation for terrorism?

Obviously, most content is going to be hosted by overseas platforms. It could be on Telegram, or it could be on a standard platform like Facebook. Now, depending on their capability, whether they have the human moderators or technical capability to identify this, you would hope that those bodies would remove it. Not because they are bound by UK law, but because they sign up to a set of standards and they are prepared to accept, from a democracy like the UK, with checks and balances, the opportunity of appeal, and the fact that it is ratified by parliament, they are prepared to accept this is something that they should remove. But to some extent, it is brokered. It is not something that is demanded by the UK.

There are obviously much smaller platforms, some of whom are just very antagonistic, either because they are obsessed with free speech, or because they are just used by terrorists, who won’t comply. And there is a problem with terrorist-operated websites, there are problems with small platforms that are hosted in jurisdictions, who don’t really feel responsible for their conduct, where it is going to be really hard. In general, proscription will provide a basis for UK and intermediate organisations like the Global Internet Foundation to Counter Terrorism and Tech Against Terrorism, which are these trade bodies, to say, “you should remove this stuff”. Whether it’s going to be removed from all the platforms will depend upon a lot of things like, where they are, if it’s encrypted, what their capability is, and what their attitude is. 

How do you assess the effectiveness of the UK’s proscription regime in adapting to the challenges posed by post-organisational terrorism, and do you have any recommendations for further enhancing its capabilities in this regard?

I’m impressed about how adaptable it’s proven to be. It does depend upon that ability to say, and if there is a challenge, to prove that there is central leadership. I had a look in one of my annual reports, I think my ‘Terrorism Acts in 2021’ report. I looked at the proscription tool and sort of posed the question, “what could you do when you can’t identify core organisation?” And I think the answer is, probably nothing using the proscription tool, without changing it beyond its intended use. 

We don’t have a tradition in the UK of making content illegal, unlike in Germany, where it is illegal to display a swastika. We make conduct illegal. With our history of Northern Irish terrorism, we’ve focused on the conduct of groups as being the most dangerous. I think it would be very odd to proscribe an individual. If you adapted to a post-organisational world, and said “well why don’t you have the ability to ban an individual?” It would be impossible to implement. You can’t commit a crime for being you, you can commit a crime for being a member of a terrorist organisation, and you can choose to leave that terrorist organisation, which would be good, but if you were to ban an individual, well they’re always going to be that individual. The framework of membership offences wouldn’t be available. The framework of giving money to a proscribed organisation also wouldn’t work, would it? Because people are allowed to have money, to receive money from the benefits system, they are allowed to pay money in shops. The framework, which said “you shouldn’t give money to or receive money from a terrorist organisation”, wouldn’t work when applied to individuals. 

And if you start banning content, first of all, it has not been our tradition, but even if it was, you would have to constantly update your database. You would have to say “we’re banning this publication, now we’re banning this publication”, which is not something you can easily keep up with. It’s something that New Zealand did in relation to the Christchurch video. And it has something that Australia has done with what they call ‘abhorrent materials’, they’ve created a special category of first-person perpetrator video. But that’s very different from the proscription methods. So I think the answer is, there is probably not much more that you can do, but it’s proven surprisingly adaptive. 

Where proscription has been used against groups that operate predominantly online or have more of an online than an offline presence, it’s been a different sort of counter-terrorism campaign. Because these groups have historically just sort of disappeared quite quickly. It has proven quite effective. If you contrast that to the groups which remain of concern, like Al-Muhajiroun, al-Qaeda, but thinking more about British-based groups, like the IRA, I mean, those have endured. That probably tells you something about the original solidity of the group. Some of these internet groups will be a bit ‘here today, gone tomorrow’. And proscription will be a way of finishing them off.