The SPLC survived firebombs and death threats. Will it survive Trump 2.0?

Acting U.S. Attorney General Todd Blanche speaks alongside Federal Bureau of Investigation Director Kash Patel a news conference last month to announce charges against to the Southern Poverty Law Center. They allege the group funneled over $3 million into the pockets of white supremacist and extremists groups. Anna Moneymaker/Getty Images hide caption toggle caption Anna Moneymaker/Getty Images Since its founding in 1971, the Southern Poverty Law Center has faced serious threats. The storied civil rights institution's Montgomery, Ala., offices were firebombed by members of the Ku Klux Klan in 1983. Its co-founder and primary fundraiser, attorney Morris Dees, was the target of numerous death threats. But perhaps none is as serious as the one it currently faces, from the Justice Department. In late April, federal prosecutors announced an indictment against the organization, alleging criminal fraud. The Justice Department accuses the SPLC of misrepresenting the true nature of bank accounts it maintained to pay confidential informants. It also claims that the nonprofit defrauded its donors, by saying it was fighting extremism when it was, in fact, funding extremism through the payment and placement of informants with extremist groups. The SPLC vigorously denies these allegations, saying it is "outraged by the false allegations levied against SPLC – an organization that for 55 years has stood as a beacon of hope fighting white supremacy and various forms of injustice to create a multi-racial democracy where we can all live and thrive." But the federal government's indictment comes at a time when several former and current SPLC employees say the organization is already deeply vulnerable. Buffeted by years-long internal turmoil, and a transformed political landscape where extremist narratives have been mainstreamed, the SPLC's ability to stand against these accusations will be closely watched. NPR spoke with three former SPLC employees for this story. Two current SPLC employees also spoke to NPR on condition that their names not be used because they are not authorized to speak for the organization. "I'm rooting for [the SPLC]. I think that the current leadership at the SPLC is doing much better and they're on a much better track," said David Neiwert, a retired journalist who worked for the SPLC between 2013 and 2018. "But I think that they've got a long ways to go." Internal disarray For decades, the SPLC pinned its reputation on splashy court wins against extremists and their organizations. From the Klan to Aryan Nations and Tom Metzger, the so-called "godfather" of the neo-Nazi skinhead movement in the U.S., the SPLC demonstrated that hate groups could effectively be held accountable for civil rights violations and bankrupted out of business. These successes attracted hundreds of millions of dollars in contributions, as well as talented young researchers and journalists who wanted to expose anti-democratic elements that targeted marginalized groups. But under the hood, there had long been indications of problems at the organization. In 2019, the SPLC fired Dees amid claims of sexual harassment and racial discrimination. It was the culmination of decades of reports and rumors of toxic internal dynamics, detailed as early as 1995 with plaudit-earning reporting from the Montgomery Advertiser. According to multiple current and former employees who spoke to NPR for this story, Dees's ouster marked the beginning of a new period of internal turmoil. The SPLC's other co-founder, and president, resigned, along with its legal director. The organization brought in Tina Tchen, Michelle Obama's former chief of staff, to conduct a workplace environment review. Staff unionized, in an effort to address what many felt were systemic biases against employees who were Black and women. But the internal upheaval was affecting the SPLC's output, said former and current staffers. "People were really having a hard time getting their work p