The placid town of Janesville, Wis. (est. pop. 52,000), never asked for a Ku Klux Klan rally. But the Klan considered the town, perched on the Rock River, ripe for recruits. So there in the middle of Rockport Park stood a massive burlap-wrapped, kerosene-soaked cross surrounded by Klansmen, and even a few Klanswomen, their robes billowing in the soft breeze. The loud twang of country music mixed with the angry chants of protesters jousting with police a few hundred yards away: "Death to the Klan!"
The Kluxers kept a wary eye as the demonstrators repeatedly charged the police line, only to be repulsed by chilly blasts from a fire hose. Eventually the frustrated crowd began to pelt the cops with mud, rocks, bottles and obscenities. The police made eight arrests. For the man whose presence triggered the violence, no outcome could have been better. "Oh, yeah," said Grand Wizard Thom Robb of the Knights of the Ku Klux Klan. "I couldn't have bought this advertising for a million bucks."
Robb, 46, is the avuncular public face of a fringe white-supremacist movement whose virulence is growing. His Klan faction, which boasts at least 1,000 active members, is one of the largest white racist groups in the nation. According to professional Klan watchers, he has tapped into a growing market for bigotry. Reported hate crimes, from painting swastikas on synagogues to racially motivated murders, have steadily risen over the past four years; cross burnings alone doubled in 1991. Klanwatch, a monitoring group based in Montgomery, estimates that there are now 346 groups, up from 273 in 1990.
The resentments stirred by the Los Angeles riots, a still sour economy and a resurgent nativism may help swell the ranks of the K.K.K. In striking down a St. Paul ordinance last week that prohibited speech or behavior likely to arouse "anger or alarm" on the basis of "race, color, creed, religion or gender," the Supreme Court sought to protect free speech. But the incident that inspired the case in the first place -- a cross burning on the lawn of a black family -- led some to predict that the ruling would make it harder to prosecute hate crimes. Said Danny Welch, director of Klanwatch: "I'm convinced in my heart that we're going to see big, dark days before it gets any better."
At first glance, Robb seems miscast in the role of a Klan leader. Like his role model David Duke, the Imperial Wizard turned politician, Robb has traded in his pointed hood and robe for a well-worn gray suit and dingy wing tips. Like Duke, he has altered the Klan's hate-filled message to make it more palatable. Robb's white supremacy emphasizes love for the white race rather than hatred for blacks and other minorities. While Robb lacks Duke's telegenic looks, he shares his flair for attracting attention, and his plans for expanding the Klan's influence rival anything Duke ever dreamed of.