On September 27, 2025, California Governor Gavin Newsom’s press office took to X (formerly Twitter) and ignited a political firestorm by publicly labeling White House Deputy Chief of Staff Stephen Miller a "fascist." The post was as blunt as it gets: “STEPHEN MILLER IS A FASCIST!” The statement, issued from Newsom’s official government account, was not just a passing comment—it became the opening salvo in an all-day social media battle that drew in political commentators, rival partisans, and the nation’s attention.
Stephen Miller himself replied almost immediately, asking, “Why do you think they posted this?” The Governor’s press office shot back with equal brevity: “because you’re a fascist.” According to reporting from Breitbart News, this was not an isolated outburst. Newsom and his staff spent the entire day defending and doubling down on the accusation, engaging directly with critics and supporters alike.
The timing of Newsom’s statement was particularly charged. Just days earlier, the word “fascist” had been carved into the bullet casings used in the assassination of conservative activist Charlie Kirk. The chilling echo between the rhetoric and the violence was not lost on observers. Several commentators, including Andrew Kolvet, who co-hosted Kirk’s radio show and was close to the late conservative leader, publicly called on Newsom to tone down what they saw as incendiary language. “This kind of rhetoric is dangerous,” Kolvet warned, according to Breitbart News.
Yet Newsom showed no signs of backing down. In fact, he doubled down, even as the outcry grew. The Governor’s press office, which is run by both Newsom and junior staffers—who, according to Breitbart News, often boast about their role in shaping the governor’s combative online persona—continued to use the official government account to press the point. Newsom’s willingness to use such language, and to do so from an account used for official state business, marked a sharp departure from traditional political communication norms.
As Breitbart News noted, Newsom’s approach appeared to mimic the combative rhetorical style of former President Donald Trump, who is known for his direct and sometimes inflammatory language. However, there were notable differences. Trump, for all his bombast, typically reserved his sharpest attacks for politicians, journalists, or those who had attacked him first, and rarely targeted staff members of rival politicians. Newsom’s direct assault on Miller—a staffer, albeit a high-ranking one—was, in this context, unusual.
The controversy did not end with the “fascist” label. Newsom also referred to Miller, who is Jewish, as “SS”—a loaded reference to the Nazi paramilitary organization responsible for orchestrating the Holocaust. This particular dig drew even sharper criticism from various quarters, with some accusing Newsom of crossing a line into hate speech. The historical weight of the “SS” accusation, especially when directed at a Jewish official, added a new layer of complexity and outrage to the unfolding debate.
For his part, Miller did not deny the label or attempt to distance himself from it. In fact, as some commentators observed, he seemed almost indifferent. According to a piece published on September 28, 2025, Miller has become so closely associated with ultranationalism, authoritarianism, militarism, anti-liberalism, scapegoating of minorities, cult of leadership, and anti-egalitarianism—the classic traits of fascism—that the accusation no longer comes as a shock. “He knows he’s a fascist, we know he’s a fascist, everyone knows he’s a fascist,” the article declared. The only thing missing, it suggested, was for Miller to simply embrace the label publicly.
The article went on to describe Miller as a key figure in an administration accused of cracking down on free speech, launching military attacks against domestic cities, and imprisoning people in concentration camps. While such claims are fiercely contested by Miller’s allies, they are central to the case Newsom and his supporters make for using the “fascist” label. The debate over whether Miller’s actions and rhetoric truly fit the definition of fascism is, of course, far from settled. But the fact that the argument is taking place so openly—and at such a high level—speaks volumes about the current state of American political discourse.
Some voices in the public debate have argued that Newsom’s use of the term “fascist” is itself an incitement to violence, especially in light of the recent assassination. They point out that the United States has a proud history of fighting fascism, most notably in World War II, and that invoking the label carries a heavy moral charge. “If Stephen Miller would rather people stop calling him a fascist, then he should stop doing and saying fascist things every single day of his life,” one commentator wrote, underscoring the deep divisions over both the rhetoric and the reality of the current political moment.
Others, however, see Newsom’s rhetoric as a calculated strategy to energize the Democratic base by fighting fire with fire. By adopting some of the same rhetorical weapons used by Trump and his allies, Newsom appears to be signaling that Democrats are no longer willing to play by the old rules of civility and restraint. Whether this approach will pay off politically remains to be seen, but it is clear that the gloves are off.
The episode also raises important questions about the role of official government accounts in political communication. Newsom’s press office is not just a personal account—it is an official channel for state business. The decision to use it for such pointed attacks blurs the line between governance and campaigning, and may set a precedent for future political leaders on both sides of the aisle.
All the while, the country watches as the boundaries of acceptable political discourse continue to shift. What once would have been considered a career-ending accusation—being called a fascist by a sitting governor—is now fodder for daylong social media battles and partisan point-scoring. Some worry that this normalization of extreme rhetoric will only deepen the nation’s divides and make meaningful dialogue more difficult.
Still, in this age of constant controversy, it seems unlikely that the debate over labels—and the deeper issues they represent—will fade anytime soon. For now, the exchange between Newsom and Miller stands as a stark illustration of America’s fractious political climate, where words are weapons and the stakes feel higher than ever.
