‘I relish when my enemies despise me’: the way Hasan Piker rose to become among the most prominent personalities on the American political left

Hasan Piker refers to it the bus driver test: “Picture yourself on a bus and you have a brief moment to describe any online event occurred to the bus driver without them turning to you and saying, ‘Get off the fucking bus.’” The vast majority of online discourse, regardless of how fiery, fails the test, he contends – not least a strange event last weekend, when a person on a Dublin street requested to take a picture with Piker, then produced a picture of his dog and shouted “Free Kaya!” Never mind the bus driver; attempting to explain the significance of that specific event could easily take the remainder of this article.

Navigating the Blurred Zone

Piker finds himself in this in-between space increasingly these days. Until relatively recently, the thirty-four-year-old was familiar primarily to the digitally immersed, especially Americans in their 20s and 30s, mostly thanks to his presence on the streaming platform Twitch. But following the last presidential election, Piker has become an in-demand voice in “offline circles” for his views on the beleaguered political left, and especially that inordinately fretted-over demographic, young men.

A Favorite Hate Figure for the Right

Unsurprisingly, this also makes Piker a prime hate figure of the political right. To his enemies there is plenty to dislike: his direct political stances; his Turkish, Muslim background; his associations with left-wing politicians. But they also take issue with the fact that Piker – physically imposing and charismatic – does not fit stereotypical lefty caricatures. He has leveraged his appearance in revealing magazine photoshoots or social media posts.

“To be frank, I had no clue that this is what I was going to be doing,” states Piker. “For instance, if someone were to ask me, did you imagine that you’d become a Twitch streamer? I’d be like, what is Twitch?”

It’s early and he’s getting ready to start his regular 11am show. He usually streams live for seven or eight hours straight, talking off the cuff about current affairs, pop culture, his personal life, playing video games, engaging with memes and media clips, and interacting with the constant stream of messages from viewers.

From The Young Turks to Solo Streaming

Building himself on Twitch, a platform primarily for streaming video games, was a conscious decision, Piker explains. His media career started out with The Young Turks, the left-leaning online news network. Piker’s parents are Turkish immigrants, and he grew up between New Jersey and Istanbul before majoring in political science. He graduated to his own show on the network in 2016 but in 2018 he decided to go solo on Twitch, to counterbalance what he saw as overwhelmingly conservative, and often toxic views that permeated the space.

“You can find ideological diversity amongst the gamers, among the developers, among the consumers, but unfortunately, the market for political expression in this arena is so heavily dominated by the right,” he says.

The Problem with the American Left

This is the core problem with the American left in general, argues Piker: they’ve relinquished so many battlegrounds to the right. “You still have to promote your ideas … but they simply completely abandoned all notion of marketing or branding.”

Piker is consistently sharply critical of past administrations on his show, particularly on foreign policy, but he is not a loyal member of the major center-left party. His own politics are generally social democratic and “empathy-first”, he clarifies. “My viewpoint is actually the normal position in much of the world.”

Controversies and Backlash

One of the dangers of Piker’s type of relaxed, relatable commentary is that he’ll occasionally go too far, which gives his opponents ammunition. He has been suspended from Twitch several times for perceived offensive content. In a highly publicized incident, in 2019, in the framework of a wider critique, he made a statement about a historic attack that was seized upon by right-wing media outlets. Piker later apologised and said the language was ill-chosen.

Likewise, Piker’s outspoken support for Palestinian rights and condemnation of certain state policies have led to allegations of bias, which he denies. He has also been mocked for expressing admiration for a different major global power, after a trip there.

“I have no issues getting vilified by people on the right. I relish when my enemies hate me,” he says. “It is what it is.”

Offline Repercussions

The vitriol increasingly risks to spill offline, however. On one occasion, Piker was questioned by US border agents on his re-entry from travel abroad. They interrogated him about his views before letting him go. “I think they did it because they are aware of who I am,” he said.

These levels of hostility help explain the “Free Kaya!” incident in Dublin. It started with a Twitch stream where his dog, Kaya, made a noise suddenly. Online conspiracy theorists swiftly concluded that Piker was mistreating the animal, sparking a meme-fueled controversy dubbed “collargate.” Even a major animal rights organization put out a statement. This led to the ambush by a random in Dublin.

Piker handled the situation in his stride. Online, though, the encounter was edited from his live stream and disseminated with his response edited out. “They wanted to make it look like I was devastated,” he said.

The Divide Between Digital and Offline Worlds

This illustrates the chasm between the offline and online worlds, he explains: “It’s very hard to maintain a very negative energy in the real world without coming across as unhinged and odd. Interactions on the internet foster this environment where you can be as aggressive as you want.”

That Dublin encounter was fairly low stakes. In the US, he admits to feeling less safe. The assassination of a right-wing commentator was a shocking example of where this online hate can end up. Piker watched the event develop in real time on his stream.

Piker still do real-life streams in the US. “I can’t let fear guide my life. I’ve gotten death threats for years,” he says. Unhealthy parasocial relationships come with the territory, he accepts.

The Future and Finding Balance

Having been accurate about the last election, how does Piker feel the next few years? “Things change quite quickly, but if you look at the avenues where there is some glimmer of hope, it’s the left candidates that are actually truly galvanising the public,” he says. He points to the progressive “left flank”.

“We have to lean into that, because I feel like it’s a matter of life or death at this point,” he adds. “So I will do anything in my power to try and avoid a worse alternative.”

The American left could perhaps do with someone like Piker. But it seems unlikely as if Piker is tempted in traditional political office. He makes periodic media guest spots, but he’s not drawn further into traditional media, he says. “The audience is moving in my direction, and away from legacy publishers.”

And on top of that, he clearly finds it fulfilling: “I find a lot of personal fulfilment in what I do.” As he’s talking, he’s got one eye on the clock. Another marathon live stream awaits, and he’s itching to get started.