The notion that he's turned some corner is fantasy
In a Denver federal courtroom in February 2021, a young man's hatred for an ancient community met the measured weight of the law. Richard Holzer, 28, was sentenced to nearly 20 years in prison for plotting to destroy Temple Emanuel Synagogue in Pueblo, Colorado — a house of worship standing since 1900 — using explosives provided by undercover FBI agents. The case, soaked in Nazi ideology and white supremacist conviction, arrived against a backdrop of rising anti-Semitic violence across America, reminding a nation that the oldest hatreds do not fade quietly into history.
- A man who declared he would 'die for his people' came within an undercover operation's reach of bombing one of Colorado's oldest synagogues.
- FBI agents posing as fellow white supremacists intercepted Holzer online, gradually supplying him with fake pipe bombs and dynamite before arresting him on the night he planned to act.
- Defense attorneys argued fetal alcohol syndrome and claimed rehabilitation, but the judge pointed to swastikas drawn in Holzer's jail cell and supremacist symbols in his prison letters as proof the ideology had not loosened its grip.
- Judge Moore sentenced Holzer to 235 months — nearly 20 years — calling the plot one of the most evil crimes that can be committed against an entire group of people, and flatly dismissing any notion that Holzer had 'turned some corner.'
- The sentencing closed a chapter that opened in the shadow of the 2018 Pittsburgh Tree of Life massacre, as Colorado alone recorded 61 anti-Semitic incidents that same year, underscoring that the threat to Jewish communities remains urgent and widespread.
On a Friday in late February 2021, Richard Holzer sat in a Denver federal courtroom as Judge Raymond P. Moore handed down a sentence of nearly 20 years. Holzer had plotted to bomb Temple Emanuel Synagogue in Pueblo — a congregation rooted in the city since 1900 — and the judge left no ambiguity about the gravity of what had been attempted, describing the case as "dripping with Nazism and supremacy" and among the most evil crimes that can be committed against an entire group of people.
The plot had begun to unravel in the fall of 2019, when an FBI agent monitoring Holzer's white supremacist social media posts made contact with him online. The undercover relationship deepened over time, eventually leading to Holzer receiving fake pipe bombs and fourteen sticks of dynamite. He was arrested on November 1, 2019 — the night he intended to carry out the attack — having stated that the planned event would define him as someone willing to die for his cause.
Holzer later pleaded guilty to attempting to obstruct religious exercise through explosives and attempting to destroy a building used in interstate commerce. At sentencing, his defense cited a diagnosis of fetal alcohol syndrome and argued that a shorter term would give him room to rehabilitate and leave his radical beliefs behind. Judge Moore was unconvinced. Swastikas drawn in Holzer's jail cell and supremacist symbols in his signed letters told a different story. "The notion that he's turned some corner is fantasy," the judge said. Holzer offered no statement of his own.
The case unfolded against a national backdrop of escalating anti-Semitic violence. Colorado had recorded 61 incidents of anti-Semitic harassment and vandalism in 2019 alone, and the country was still absorbing the weight of the 2018 Tree of Life massacre in Pittsburgh, which killed eleven people. The outgoing U.S. Attorney, who had begun his tenure by attending a vigil for those victims, marked his final day in office by announcing Holzer's sentencing. Temple Emanuel — the second oldest synagogue in Colorado — had been spared, but the ideology that nearly destroyed it remained a living threat to religious communities across America.
Richard Holzer sat in a federal courtroom in Denver on a Friday in late February 2021, listening as a judge handed down a sentence of nearly 20 years in prison. The 28-year-old had plotted to bomb Temple Emanuel Synagogue in Pueblo, Colorado—a building that had stood since 1900, built by descendants of immigrants from central and eastern Europe. Judge Raymond P. Moore, who presided over the case, did not mince words about what he saw before him. The judge called the plot "dripping with Nazism and supremacy" and described it as "one of the most vulgar, aggressive, evil crimes that can be committed against an entire group of persons."
Holzer's path to that courtroom began in the fall of 2019, when an FBI agent posing as a white supremacist made contact with him online. The agent had spotted Holzer's social media posts—content promoting white supremacy and violence—and used that opening to build a relationship. Over time, the undercover operation progressed. Holzer received two fake pipe bombs and 14 sticks of dynamite from the agents, materials he intended to use in an attack on the Pueblo synagogue. On November 1, 2019, federal authorities arrested him. In a statement made after his arrest, Holzer said the "event planned for tonight would define me as a person who would die for his people."
By October 2020, Holzer had pleaded guilty to two counts: attempting to stop people from exercising their religion through use of explosives or fire, and attempting to destroy a building used in interstate commerce. The plea deal meant the facts of the case were established without trial. What emerged was a portrait of a man whose life, according to court documents, was saturated with violent and hateful imagery. Throughout the sentencing hearing, Judge Moore criticized the statements Holzer had made to the undercover agents and the content he had posted online.
Holzer's defense team argued for leniency, citing his diagnosis of fetal alcohol syndrome and suggesting it had shaped his development into adulthood, creating what they described as an "unmet and overwhelming need to seem more important than he is." They asked the judge for a shorter sentence, arguing that a reduced term would give Holzer incentive to rehabilitate himself after prison and to move away from the radical ideology that had motivated the plot. They also claimed he no longer held the white supremacist beliefs that had driven him toward violence. Judge Moore rejected these arguments flatly. He pointed to swastikas Holzer had drawn in his jail cell and to supremacist symbols that appeared in letters Holzer had signed while incarcerated. "The notion that he's turned some corner is fantasy," Moore said.
Holzer did not speak at his sentencing. He offered no statement to the court, no explanation, no plea for understanding. The judge imposed a sentence of 235 months—nearly 20 years—along with 15 years of supervised release to follow.
The case arrived at a moment of heightened concern about anti-Semitic violence in America. The Anti-Defamation League's Mountain States Region had tracked 61 cases of anti-Semitic harassment and vandalism in Colorado during 2019 alone, the year Holzer was arrested. The attack on the Tree of Life Synagogue in Pittsburgh in 2018 had killed 11 people and left the country grappling with the reality of domestic terrorism targeting Jewish communities. U.S. Attorney Jason Dunn, who had taken office by visiting a vigil for those Pittsburgh victims, ended his tenure by announcing Holzer's sentencing. "Today, my last day in the office, we have sentenced the extremist responsible for the attempted bombing of the Temple Emanuel Synagogue in Pueblo," he said in a statement.
Temple Emanuel itself—the second oldest synagogue in Colorado—had narrowly escaped becoming a site of mass violence. The congregation that worships there, and the broader community it represents, had been spared by the intervention of federal law enforcement. But the plot itself, and the ideology that motivated it, remained a stark reminder of the threats facing religious minorities in America.
Notable Quotes
It is one of the most vulgar, aggressive, evil crimes that can be committed against an entire group of persons.— Judge Raymond P. Moore
The notion that he's turned some corner is fantasy.— Judge Raymond P. Moore
The Hearth Conversation Another angle on the story
Why did the judge seem so certain that Holzer hadn't changed, despite what his lawyers argued?
Because Holzer kept showing the same symbols, the same ideology, even while sitting in jail waiting for trial. Swastikas in his cell. Supremacist signs on his letters. The judge was saying: you can't claim transformation when you're still drawing hate symbols on the walls around you.
The undercover agent posed as a white supremacist. How does that work—doesn't that risk encouraging someone who might otherwise have stayed on the margins?
That's the tension in these cases. The agent didn't invent Holzer's ideology; he found it already there, already public on social media. But yes, the agent did help move him from posting online to actually acquiring explosives. It's a real question about where law enforcement crosses from investigation into something else.
Why mention that Temple Emanuel was built in 1900 by immigrants? What does that add?
It grounds the target. This wasn't an abstract building. It was a place with history, with a community that had roots going back generations. Holzer wasn't targeting a symbol—he was targeting people, families, a congregation with a specific story.
The judge called it one of the most evil crimes. But no one died. Why such strong language?
Because the intent was there. Fourteen sticks of dynamite in a synagogue would have killed people. The judge was saying: the evil isn't measured only by what happened—it's measured by what was intended, by the hatred that motivated it, by the targeting of an entire group.
What strikes you most about this case?
That it happened at all, and that it almost worked. An ordinary person in Colorado, radicalized online, nearly carried out a mass casualty attack. The only reason Temple Emanuel still stands is because the FBI was watching.