NSPM-7: Redefining Extremism

You may have heard about National Security Presidential Memorandum 7 (NSPM-7) being recently established on Sept. 25, or perhaps it slipped under the radar amid the constant churn of political news. Either way, its implications are striking. 

National Security Presidential Memoranda (NSPMs) are among the most powerful tools the executive branch can use. They are part of a broader system of presidential directives on national security, and guide the direction of federal defense, intelligence, and law enforcement policy. Unlike executive orders, which manage the day-to-day operations of federal agencies and generally must be published in the Federal Register, NSPMs are often issued in secret and do not need to be published to be legally binding. NSPM-7, officially titled “Countering Domestic Terrorism and Organized Political Violence,” aims to coordinate a comprehensive government response to political violence within the United States.

NSPM-7’s most consequential elements lie in its language. The memorandum identifies “indicators of extremism” and adopts a “pre-crime” framework. It directs agencies to identify, monitor, and disrupt individuals and organizations before they commit violent acts, on the basis of perceived risk or ideological affiliation. In doing so, it authorizes surveillance and prosecution not for what individuals have done, but for what they might do — using thresholds so broad that it effectively sanctions the targeting of entire political movements, raising  urgent questions about the future of democratic participation in the United States.

The extent of language defining what extremism is: “Common threads animating this violent conduct include anti-Americanism, anti-capitalism, and anti-Christianity; support for the overthrow of the United States Government; extremism on migration, race, and gender; and hostility towards those who hold traditional American views on family, religion, and morality.”

Critics might insist that my interpretation goes too far — that NSPM-7 is aimed only at violent extremists, not ordinary citizens or activists. But the problem is that the memorandum never clearly defines what “extremism” actually means, leaving enormous room for subjective interpretation. In Section 1, for instance, it lists “anti-Americanism,” “anti-capitalism,” and “extremism on migration, race, and gender” alongside assassination and terrorism. When such disparate ideas are mentioned in the same breath, the line between belief and violence disappears. When language is this vague, intent stops mattering; what counts as “threatening” becomes whatever those in power decide it is. That uncertainty alone should alarm anyone who values free expression, because it allows a future administration to weaponize the directive against virtually any group it dislikes.

The tactic of redefining dissent as a form of extremism or terrorism is not new. Across history, authoritarian governments have sought to preserve power by branding their opponents as dangerous threats. NSPM-7 echoes both international and domestic precedent. In Mussolini’s Italy and Hitler’s Germany, dissent was framed as a threat to public order. Independent labor unions, socialist groups, and leftist intellectuals were cast as existential dangers. Mussolini dissolved unions and banned strikes to maintain “stability,” while Hitler used the Reichstag Fire of 1933 to label communists and socialists as terrorists, justifying crackdowns that dismantled multiparty democracy. The Stalinist Soviet Union operated under a similar logic, though under a different ideological banner. Political opponents — from Trotskyists to ordinary citizens accused of insufficient loyalty — were branded “enemies of the state.” This designation did not require evidence of violence or sabotage; mere disagreement with the ruling ideology sufficed. 

The U.S., especially, has a history of equating dissent with subversion. During the Red Scares before and during the McCarthy era, thousands of workers, immigrants, or artists were blacklisted or jailed for alleged communist ties. In the 1960s, the FBI’s COINTELPRO program wiretapped Martin Luther King Jr. and infiltrated groups like the Black Panthers and antiwar movements. After 9/11, entire Muslim communities faced mass surveillance and mosque infiltration under the pretext of national security. The government’s reliance on preemptive measures — targeting individuals and groups before any crime was committed — normalized the idea that ideology, religion, or association could serve as grounds for investigation and punishment.

Unlike previous moments, when suppression often operated through explicit targeting of named groups — communists, civil rights leaders, the Black Panther Party — NSPM-7 takes a subtler but broader approach. 

It doesn’t single out organizations by name; instead, it labels entire belief systems and values as potential threats. NSPM-7 openly lists progressive values such as anti-capitalism, critiques of Christianity, support for immigrant rights, and advocacy for racial and gender justice as “indicators of extremism.” The categories enumerated in NSPM-7 are not abstract; many of these “extremist” behaviors are practiced by average people in their communities. 

We’ve already seen the chilling effects of this logic: a Columbia student, Mahmoud Khalil, was detained and nearly deported for his pro-Palestinian activism; a French scientist was denied entry to the U.S. after border agents found private messages critical of Trump; and students have faced visa revocations for expressing political opinions online. 

I hold many of these same views, and in communities like Amherst, they’re hardly unusual. Yet under NSPM-7, these ordinary beliefs and actions could mark me as a potential target of investigation. I will now explain my stances.

Anti-americanism and support for the overthrow of the U.S. Government: NSPM-7 transforms ordinary acts of civic responsibility and advocacy into potential evidence of disloyalty. The memo flags criticism of systemic inequality as “anti-American” even when that criticism comes from a place of wanting the country to do better. Its sweeping language, any challenge to those in power — particularly to the Trump administration’s policies — could be interpreted as an attempt to “undermine” or “destabilize” the government. I don’t necessarily hate America, but I hate the systems that it promotes. Small, everyday acts — talking about how America is struggling, posting articles about racial injustice or wealth inequality on social media, discussing how much I dislike Trump and his actions, attending protests, or helping hand out voter registration flyers for progressive candidates — could be construed as unpatriotic even though these actions are meant to strengthen democracy, not undermine it. 

Anti-capitalism: NSPM-7 treats any critique of capitalism as radical, yet I openly question whether capitalism as it exists today truly serves people. I am anti-capitalist in the sense that I believe an economy built on endless profit, exploitation, and inequality cannot sustain a just society. I talk with friends about how rent, healthcare, and education costs keep people trapped, and I support movements for a living wage, public healthcare, and free education. Under NSPM-7, such convictions could be labeled subversive, but to me, rejecting the harm of capitalism is not extremism — it’s a call for fairness and humanity.

Criticism of Christianity: NSPM-7 treats critique of Christianity as “hostility toward traditional religious views,” and I do have that but my perspective comes from lived experience, not solely animosity. Growing up Catholic, I saw how certain teachings perpetuated restrictive, harmful ideas about gender, sexuality, and social roles. I firmly believe in reproductive freedom, including the right to abortion, and in the separation of church and state — positions that put me at odds with traditional Christian religious authority and could be construed as “anti-Christian.”

Extremism on Migration and Race: NSPM-7 casts ordinary advocacy for marginalized communities as “extremism.” As the descendant of immigrants, supporting newcomers is part of who I am: I’ve donated to refugee families, attended talks on humane border policies, signed petitions for immigration reform, and discussed fairness, opportunity, and human dignity with classmates. I’ve joined protests against Immigration and Customs Enforcement practices, called their hotline to warn communities of their arrival, and tried to act out of compassion for people seeking a better life. Similarly, my commitment to racial justice — reading works by Black, Indigenous, and other scholars of color, attending equity workshops, participating in conversations about privilege, and supporting movements like Black Lives Matter — is framed as a threat under NSPM-7. What these policies label as “extremism” is in fact basic moral responsibility, empathy, and civic engagement: ordinary acts of justice and care that, under this framework, are treated as subversive behavior and potentially punishable.

Extremism on Gender and Hostility Toward Traditional Values: NSPM-7 treats support for gender equality, LGBTQ+ rights, and inclusive ideas about family and identity as inherently subversive. As a queer woman, advocating for myself and others is part of my everyday life: I wear pride pins, display rainbow flags in my dorm, openly discuss my identity in classrooms and social spaces, and help other queer students navigate coming out or discrimination. I openly question domestic expectations, resist outdated gender roles, and challenge the social scripts that dictate how women should behave or whom they should love. Under NSPM-7, all of these ordinary acts — expressing identity, supporting others, building communities outside patriarchal confines, and celebrating diversity — could be misread as “extremism” or “hostility” toward American values, effectively criminalizing empathy, solidarity, and the very practices that make society more just, inclusive, and human.

NSPM-7’s definition of extremism is deeply problematic, both in its conceptual breadth and in its practical implications. None of these beliefs necessarily lead to violent acts; they are ideological positions, moral stances, and forms of civic engagement. By codifying such beliefs as markers of extremism, NSPM-7 creates a chilling effect: Individuals and organizations may self-censor, avoid activism, or disengage from political debate for fear of being labeled threats to national security. 

Moreover, the directive also demonstrates a strikingly selective approach to enforcement. While NSPM-7 purports to address “domestic terrorism and organized political violence,” it overwhelmingly targets left-leaning or progressive movements while ignoring the documented threat posed by far-right groups. White supremacist militias, anti-government paramilitary organizations, and the individuals responsible for the Jan. 6 insurrection are notably absent from the memorandum’s language. This selective application reveals a partisan weaponization of law enforcement, using national security tools not to protect all citizens equally but to surveil and suppress political opposition.

Not every concern raised by NSPM-7 is unfounded. History shows that fervent belief — even in the name of justice or liberation — can curdle into extremism when it abandons empathy, rejects pluralism, or justifies harm against others. There are indeed movements and ideologies that, under the banner of political or social reform, have endorsed or incited violence. Recognizing this reality is essential: The existence of sincere grievances does not excuse violence, and the state does have a legitimate interest in preventing genuine threats to public safety. The problem with NSPM-7 is not its stated goal of countering political violence, but its conflation of radicalism in thought with extremism in action — a confusion that risks punishing conscience rather than crime.

To be quite clear, NSPM-7 reflects the subtler, bureaucratic roots of fascism. NSPM-7 weaponizes the language of “extremism” to draw a stark line between “traditional Americans” and those labeled as “radical outsiders,” turning ideology into a metric of suspicion and potential criminality. In a democracy, the right to question power, to critique institutions, and to advocate for justice is not subversion — it is citizenship. Silencing dissent through the language of security does not make the nation safer; it corrodes the freedoms it claims to defend. The normalization of this kind of repression carries broader, long-term dangers for democracy by undermining civil liberties, chilling political dissent, and eroding public trust in institutions — and we must be deeply concerned about where this path could lead.