FOR A MONTH, Michael Rectenwald had been trying to get Nick Fuentes to notice him. Rectenwald had a new political action committee devoted to anti-Zionism, and he hoped the far-right influencer would promote it to his legions of perpetually online, often antisemitic fans. But Rectenwald, a former New York University professor and one-time presidential hopeful, had struggled to stand out to the ascendant Fuentes, who has come to symbolize the formerly fringe extremes of the online right. So in October, Rectenwald posted something sure to catch Fuentes’s eye: “Nick has sold out to the cabal.”

It worked. “Fuck you,” Fuentes wrote back.

This was Rectenwald’s shot. He apologized, calling Fuentes “a brilliant guy.” He reposted an uncannily gorgeous, computer-generated woman in a cross necklace and blazer encouraging the two men to “drop the beef.” She sat in front of an American flag and six light-up letters spelling “AZAPAC,” the acronym for Rectenwald’s new group. If Fuentes would just endorse it, Rectenwald promised, he’d “take it all back.”

Rectenwald launched the Anti-Zionist America Political Action Committee in August, vowing to fight to end U.S. financial and military aid to Israel and root out pro-Israel influence in Congress. AZAPAC aims to raise money to unseat pro-Israel legislators in the coming midterm elections, targeting some of the main recipients of cash from influential groups like the American Israel Public Affairs Committee and Democratic Majority for Israel.