Photo by Ivan Skorovarov on Unsplash

When we talk about extremist groups, we often focus on ideology: white supremacy, Christian nationalism, conspiracy theories, or militant patriotism. But underneath these political and religious narratives lies something more insidious: toxic masculinity. The language, rituals, and recruitment strategies of groups like the Proud Boys, Oath Keepers, and Three Percenters rely on a warped version of manhood built on domination, violence, and loyalty at all costs.

Reading Kamila Shamsie’s Home Fire alongside the January 6th Capitol attack reveals striking parallels. Both stories show how extremist groups prey on feelings of alienation, demand loyalty over morality, and weaponize masculinity as a way to bind members together.

Masculinity as Control

Right-wing extremist groups frame masculinity as control: over women, over politics, and over the “other.” The Proud Boys, for example, openly preach that “the West is the best” and tie their identity to patriarchal dominance. Their rhetoric is steeped in violence—being a “real man” means being willing to fight, sacrifice, and protect the group at all costs.

This connects directly to Home Fire, where Parvaiz is manipulated into joining an extremist group by appeals to loyalty and fatherhood. He is asked whether he will continue the “work your father would have done” (Shamsie 150). The recruitment hinges not just on ideology, but on performing masculinity—being brave, strong, and dutiful like his absent father. For both Parvaiz and Jan. 6 rioters, violence becomes a test of manhood.

Loyalty Over Justice

Toxic masculinity also thrives on loyalty. On January 6th, men and women stormed the Capitol not only because of lies about election fraud, but because their sense of belonging in extremist groups demanded it. To betray the group—or worse, betray family—was unthinkable. That’s why turning in a loved one became so fraught.

Jackson Reffitt, who reported his father to the FBI, described feeling “gross” and “uncomfortable” but knew it was the right thing to do. Similarly, in Home Fire, Isma turns in her brother, choosing civic responsibility over family loyalty. In both cases, the decision breaks with patriarchal expectations: men are supposed to protect men, and family is supposed to come before justice. Exposing the truth becomes an act of resistance to toxic masculine codes.

The Brotherhood Illusion

Extremist groups market themselves as brotherhoods. They promise belonging, purpose, and honor—especially to men who feel alienated or emasculated by economic precarity, social change, or shifting gender norms. But this brotherhood is conditional. Members are valued not as individuals, but as weapons. Masculinity is reduced to a performance of aggression.

Shamsie captures this with Parvaiz, who is brainwashed into seeing corruption everywhere except in the group itself. Likewise, Jan. 6 rioters described themselves as “patriots,” casting dissenters as traitors. These echo chambers reward violent loyalty while punishing doubt—a dynamic Judith Butler might call gender performativity taken to its extreme. To “fail” at masculinity here is to risk expulsion or even death.

Toxic Masculinity as Radicalization Fuel

At its core, toxic masculinity makes extremist groups attractive because it offers a script. It tells men who feel powerless that they can regain control by dominating others. It tells them that violence is not only acceptable but righteous. And it tells them that betraying the group—or their fathers, brothers, or leaders—is worse than betraying their country.

This is why women in these movements are often sidelined or caricatured. They are either “backbiting bitches” (as satire like Strictly Ballroom might put it) or “supportive wives” who uphold the cause. Women are rarely seen as leaders; instead, they serve to reinforce men’s loyalty to the group.

Breaking the Cycle

If toxic masculinity is at the heart of extremist recruitment, then dismantling it must be part of the solution. That means challenging the cultural narratives that tie masculinity to domination and violence, offering alternative models of belonging, and uplifting stories—like those of Isma and Jackson Reffitt—where resisting loyalty to patriarchal power structures becomes an act of courage.

Because at the end of the day, toxic masculinity doesn’t just harm women and marginalized communities—it destroys men too, trapping them in cycles of violence, shame, and blind obedience.