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In a scenic corner of western Wisconsin, a burgeoning right-wing conservative movement has risen to prominence.
They see America at large as a dark, dangerous place, where democracy is under attack from a tyrannical government, where few public servants can be trusted, and where neighbors may one day have to come together to protect each other. . It is a country where the most fundamental beliefs – in faith, family, freedom – are under threat.
John Kraft looks beyond his quiet rural community and sees a country that many Americans wouldn’t recognize.
And it’s not just about politics anymore.
“It’s no longer left versus right, Democrats versus Republicans,” says Kraft, a software architect and data analyst. “It’s squarely good versus evil.”
He knows how it sounds. He felt the scorn of people who see him as a fanatic, a conspiracy theorist.
But he is a hero in a burgeoning right-wing conservative movement that has risen to prominence in this part of western Wisconsin.
Just a few years ago, their talk of Marxism, government crackdowns and secret plans to destroy family values would have placed them on the periphery of the Republican Party.
But not anymore. Today, despite a midterm election that failed to see the sweeping Republican victories many had predicted, it remains a cornerstone of the conservative voter base. Across the country, victories have gone to candidates who believe in QAnon and candidates who believe the separation of church and state is wrong. In Wisconsin, a US senator interested in conspiracy theories and pseudoscience won re-election – crushing his opponent in St. Croix County.
Take Mark Carlson. He is a nice man who exudes sweetness, likes to cook, rarely leaves his house without a gun and believes that despotism hovers over America.
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“There’s a plan to lead us from within to socialism, Marxism, the communist type of government,” says Carlson, a St. Croix County supervisor who recently retired after 20 years of working in a detention center for minors.
He was thrust into power earlier this year when right-wing insurgent Tories created a powerful local electoral bloc, energized by fury over COVID lockdowns, vaccination mandates and the unrest that rocked the country after George Floyd was murdered by a police officer in Minneapolis, just 45 years old. a few minutes away.
In two years, they have taken control of the county’s Republican Party, ousting leaders they see as pawns of a weak establishment, and have helped place more than a dozen people in elected positions in the governments of county and city and school boards.
In their America, the US government has orchestrated COVID fears to cement its power, the IRS is buying up huge stockpiles of ammunition, and former President Barack Obama is perhaps the most powerful person in the land.
Today, polls indicate that well over 60% of Republicans in the United States do not believe President Joe Biden was elected in 2020. About a third refuse to get a COVID shot.
Carlson, a bearded, middle-aged white man and gun owner who voted for former President Donald Trump, knows he looks like a caricature to some. But he is not.
“I’m just a normal person,” he says, sitting on a sofa next to a bay window overlooking the large garden he maintains with his wife. “They don’t realize we mean well.”
It can be confusing. He calls peaceful black protesters “righteous” for taking to the streets after Floyd’s killing. He makes organic yogurt. He drives a Tesla. He is a conservative Christian who loves AC/DC. In a region where Islam is sometimes viewed with open hostility, he says he would support the small Muslim community if they wanted to open a mosque here.
Sometimes you’ll hear people here talking about what they plan to do if things get really bad for America.
There are solar panels in case of power failure. There is extra gasoline for cars and diesel for generators. There are shelves of non-perishable food, sometimes enough to last for months.
There are firearms, although this is almost never discussed with strangers.
“I’ve had enough,” said a man, sitting in a Hudson cafe.
“I’d rather not get into this with a reporter,” Kraft says.
The suggestions of violence worry people like Paul Hambleton, who lives in Hudson and works with the county’s Democratic party.
“Something is seriously wrong here,” Hambleton said.
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He spent years teaching in the small county town of St. Croix, where the population has grown from 43,000 in 1980 to about 95,000 today. He watched the student body move. The children of farmers have given way to the children of people who commute to work in the Twin Cities. Racial minorities have become a small but growing presence.
He understands why the changes might make some people nervous.
“There’s a rural way of life that people feel is under threat here, a small town way of life,” he says.
But he’s also a hunter who saw how difficult it was to buy ammunition after the 2020 protests, when gun sales soared across America.
For almost two years, the shelves were almost empty.
“I found it threatening,” says Hambleton. “Because it’s impossible for deer hunters to buy so much ammunition.”