A local zoning fight over artificial intelligence infrastructure in Frederick County, Virginia, has drawn national security scrutiny after investigators linked the lead organizer to a Marxist-Leninist party with alleged financial ties to the Chinese Communist Party.
Jack Tensley, an organizer with the Party of Socialism and Liberation, testified against a proposed AI data center before the Frederick County Planning Commission in January 2026. His testimony looked, on its face, like standard grassroots opposition to a development project. But a deeper look at PSL's funding trail and national footprint has prompted at least one U.S. senator to call for a Department of Justice investigation, Fox News reported.
The concern is not that residents oppose a data center. People fight zoning changes every day. The concern is that a party with alleged links to a foreign adversary is running coordinated campaigns against billions of dollars in American AI investment, and doing it one planning commission hearing at a time.
PSL's network overlaps with a broader web of nonprofits funded by Neville Roy Singham, a Shanghai-based American businessman with alleged connections to the Chinese Communist Party. Singham has funneled $278 million into that nonprofit network since 2017, according to reporting from Breitbart. The nonprofits share overlapping leadership with PSL.
No charges have been filed against Singham, and the alleged CCP ties remain unproven in any court proceeding. But the scale of the funding and the organizational overlap have caught the attention of federal lawmakers.
Sen. Tom Cotton put the matter bluntly:
"Alarming reports indicate that a network of foreign actors, led by the Chinese Communist Party, is attempting to manipulate U.S. policy and public opinion on data centers."
Cotton's statement frames the issue as a national security problem, not a land-use dispute. If a foreign government is bankrolling domestic opposition to AI infrastructure, the implications stretch well beyond one Virginia county.
Frederick County is not an isolated case. The Bitcoin Policy Institute found that PSL has organized anti-data center campaigns in at least 14 states. Those campaigns collectively target roughly $23.6 billion in AI investments. The institute described PSL's role in stark operational terms:
"PSL functions as the movement's ground game, supplying rallies, petitions, public hearings, local candidates and neighborhood organizing necessary to stop projects on the ground."
That language paints a picture of a disciplined political operation, not a loose coalition of concerned neighbors. Rallies, petitions, candidate recruitment, and hearing testimony all require coordination and funding. The Bitcoin Policy Institute's assessment suggests PSL provides exactly that infrastructure to local opposition efforts across the country.
The strategy is effective precisely because it looks organic. A resident shows up at a planning commission meeting. He raises concerns about noise, water usage, or property values. The commissioners see a constituent, not a national campaign. Virginia has seen its share of politically charged policy fights in recent years, but this one carries a different kind of weight.
Whatever drove the opposition, it worked. Frederick County boards voted to reject two major data center development projects. The votes represent a tangible loss for AI infrastructure buildout in the region.
Data centers are the physical backbone of the AI race. They house the servers that train and run large language models, process cloud computing workloads, and store the data that powers everything from defense applications to commercial platforms. Blocking them at the local level does not just delay construction. It can redirect investment to other countries entirely.
That dynamic is what makes the foreign-influence question so pointed. If a rival government wanted to slow American AI development without firing a shot, flooding local zoning fights with organized opposition would be a low-cost, high-return approach. Investigators have not publicly confirmed whether that is what happened here. But the pattern, and the money trail, have raised enough flags to draw congressional attention.
The broader question of exposing alleged wrongdoing by prominent figures and organizations is familiar territory in Washington. What makes this case unusual is the venue: not a Senate hearing room or a federal courtroom, but a county planning commission in rural Virginia.
The Party of Socialism and Liberation describes itself as a Marxist-Leninist organization. It has run candidates for office, organized protests on a range of issues, and built a presence on college campuses. Its anti-data center work represents a newer front.
Fox News reporter Leo Briceno framed the landscape this way: "As America races to build the infrastructure needed to power artificial intelligence, community fights over zoning and electricity have raised concerns that larger political groups are attempting to amplify opposition to U.S. AI infrastructure through local influence campaigns."
The word "amplify" matters. Legitimate local opposition exists in many communities where data centers are proposed. Residents worry about water consumption, noise from cooling systems, strain on the electrical grid, and changes to rural character. Those concerns are real and deserve serious answers from developers.
The question is whether PSL and its affiliated network are manufacturing opposition where it might not otherwise exist, or inflating it beyond what organic community sentiment would produce. The Bitcoin Policy Institute's research suggests the former. Investigators will need to determine whether the $278 million in Singham-linked nonprofit funding reached PSL's ground operations directly or indirectly.
Cotton's call for a DOJ investigation sets up several factual questions that federal prosecutors or counterintelligence officials would need to answer. First, they would need to trace whether Singham's money flowed to PSL itself or only to organizations with overlapping leadership. Shared board members do not automatically mean shared bank accounts.
Second, investigators would need to establish whether Singham acts at the direction or under the influence of the Chinese Communist Party, or whether he is an independent actor with his own political commitments. The alleged CCP ties have not been adjudicated. Allegations of foreign-agent status require proof under the Foreign Agents Registration Act, which demands evidence that a person acts "at the order, request, or under the direction or control" of a foreign principal.
Third, even if both links are established, prosecutors would need to show that PSL's anti-data center campaigns were part of a foreign influence operation rather than domestic political activity protected by the First Amendment. That is a high bar, and it should be. Americans have every right to oppose development projects in their communities. The legal question is whether foreign money is secretly driving that opposition.
When politically notable figures get caught up in scandals, the public rightly demands transparency. The same standard applies to organizations that claim grassroots legitimacy while potentially drawing on foreign-linked funds.
The stakes extend beyond any single zoning vote. The United States and China are locked in a competition to build AI capacity. Whichever country trains the most capable models and deploys them fastest will hold enormous advantages in defense, intelligence, economic productivity, and scientific research.
Data centers are the factories of that race. Every project that gets blocked or delayed in the U.S. is a project that could move to a friendlier jurisdiction abroad, or simply not get built at all. China faces fewer local opposition hurdles because its political system does not allow the kind of grassroots resistance that American communities can mount.
That structural asymmetry creates a vulnerability. Open societies allow dissent, and that is a strength. But when foreign adversaries exploit that openness to slow a competitor's industrial capacity, the strength becomes a pressure point.
Authorities have not publicly confirmed whether China's government played any role in the Frederick County fight or in PSL's broader anti-data center campaign. But the $278 million question hangs over every planning commission hearing where a PSL organizer takes the microphone.
Frederick County's rejection of the two data center projects stands for now. Developers could appeal, propose modified plans, or look elsewhere. The county's decision is a local land-use matter, and local boards have broad discretion over zoning.
At the federal level, Cotton's call for a DOJ investigation remains just that: a call. No formal investigation has been publicly announced. The Bitcoin Policy Institute's research has put the issue on the map, but think-tank reports do not carry subpoena power.
If the DOJ does open an inquiry, it will need to move carefully. Foreign influence investigations that touch domestic political activity raise serious civil liberties concerns. Overreach could chill legitimate protest. But ignoring credible indicators of foreign-linked influence campaigns carries its own risks.
When a quarter-billion dollars flows from a Shanghai-based businessman into a network that shares leadership with a Marxist-Leninist party running ground campaigns against American AI infrastructure in 14 states, the question answers itself. Someone with subpoena power needs to follow the money.
