WHEN we discuss the strengths and virtues of liberal democracy, that political philosophy now under siege in the United States, it is the permissive freedoms that spring to mind such as rule of and equality before the law, separation of powers, and human and civil rights. Less well recognised are the protective freedoms ‒ from violence and fear. And yet it is fear that seems increasingly to govern actions and words not only in authoritarian countries with secret police and torture chambers, but in the so-called illiberal democracies of the world and even, for different reasons, in liberal societies.

One of the most admirable American presidents, Franklin Delano Roosevelt (1933‒1945), used in his first inaugural speech the stirring declaration that ‘there is nothing to fear but fear itself’. He was referring to the Great Depression, but his words have been used in many other contexts since. They seem particularly appropriate now when his distant successor, the convicted criminal and neo-fascist loudmouth Donald Trump, is undermining the rule of law in his country and worldwide.

There was a time when threats came through the letterbox in envelopes, messages made up from words and phrases cut from newspapers and glued onto a sheet of paper. Nearly twenty years ago I was told by my very sympathetic line manager that by taking a role in a monitoring group tracking the abuse of academic freedom and the diminution of academic rule at the university where I had worked for 27 years, I was risking ‘reputational destruction’. I looked at him in total amazement. We lived within communities of academics and former anti-apartheid activists who would deride any such attempt. Sure enough, eventually my job disappeared, but I was prepared for that and, if anything, my reputation improved where it mattered.

Now things are different. As a social media refusenik perhaps I do not fully appreciate the extent of this, but people these days cower before torrents of vile and often obscene abuse that pour forth from social media. The much-vaunted web that was going to spread messages of hope, democracy and freedom has been commandeered by right-wing populists and is used to sow the distrust, despair and cynicism that are the feeding trough for fascism. In the case of some technocrats, this is with their connivance.

The targeting of individuals is what causes the fear. It seems that it is now impossible to be a high-profile figure on social media without attracting the attention of seemingly deranged people threatening to kill, rape and commit other crimes. This can be the result not just of taking up a challenging moral or political position, but for being the scapegoat in a sporting defeat ‒ or worse, a referee. So rather than an envelope through the letterbox, today’s all-too-common experience must be like an electronic mob kicking down the front door.

Where these vile diatribes stem from is one of the mysteries of the post-modern world. Who were these people and how did they behave before social media became available? Many messages are presumably automatically generated in some way (is this an example of AS or artificial stupidity?) but all are ultimately the result of human effort. A healthy way to respond is assume the moral high ground: if you are attracting the anger of such scum, then you must be doing something right.

During the South African struggle against apartheid, the abusive phone call in the middle of the night was routine for activists. These calls almost certainly came from the local police station or the homes of police reservists and they threatened exactly the sorts of dire consequence now common on social media. No one I know stopped what they were doing because of this and the select few detained without trial came out of prison and carried on as before. Intimidation, and worse, were regarded as a badge of honour and a test of our commitment. And there was no recourse: going to the police was out of the question because the intimidators were the police themselves or their friends.

So, what has changed? Intimidation in the South Africa of the seventies and eighties was a largely personal thing, but fearful though it might have been in most cases it hardened resolve. Is it the sheer volume of noise and hatred that now overwhelms; the convict and gutter propagandist Steve Bannon’s ‘flooding the zone … with shit’? (Right-wing populists seem to go out of their way to embrace the coarse and profane.) One wonders why on earth at least one of the four surviving American presidents has not sounded a warning about the coup underway in Washington; but columnists have speculated that with all of them now at an advanced age they are too wary of Bannon’s prescription. Many other powerful people, much younger, are wilting under the pressure.

One of the advantages of the extraordinary assault on liberty and constitutionalism being waged in the USA, and by extension in other countries, is that is creating an awareness and solidarity aimed at defending and promoting liberal democracy. But if such a struggle is to flourish, significant numbers of people will have to overcome vile content on little screens. It will require courage and resilience of the sort human beings normally store up for wartime.

In a recent interview with Michel Martin on CNN, Yale philosophy professor Jason Stanley described a climate of fear enveloping American universities and law firms. Rather than act in solidarity they are caving in or keeping under the radar hoping to avoid sanction by the vengeful and unhinged King Donald and his unscrupulous retinue. In view of creeping educational authoritarianism, Stanley announced, he was leaving to work in Canada at the University of Toronto. Others will doubtless move to more liberal environments.

That’s what happens when giving in to fear of the mob. Indeed, that is exactly what is intended. Defence of liberal democracy is going to require much more. Maybe the South African experience will have relevance: white supremacism likewise underlies the right-wing fear campaign being waged against liberal democracy.