Friday, August 14, 2020

The Great Energy DebateIs Nuclear Power the Solution to Climate Change?

Paul Dorfman and Staffan Qvist both want to save the climate. 

But one of them wants to rid the world of nuclear reactors while the other wants to build more of them. 

We brought them together for a debate.

Interview Conducted by Philip Bethge und Rafaela von Bredow
14.08.2020, DER SPIEGEL


Dorfman, left, is opposed to nuclear. Qvist, right, is for it. Foto: 

Horst Friedrichs / DER SPIEGEL


Dorfman, 64, of University College London, is founder and chair of the Nuclear Consulting Group, a collection of experts and activists working on nuclear energy and radiation medicine, nuclear proliferation and the sustainability of energy systems.



Qvist, 34, completed his Ph.D. in nuclear engineering at the University of California at Berkeley and has since been conducting research in the U.S. and Sweden on the safety and economics of nuclear power. He currently runs an energy consultancy firm in Great Britain. He is the author of the book "A Bright Future: How Some Countries Have Solved Climate Change and the Rest Can Follow” together with the economist Joshua Goldstein.

DER SPIEGEL: Mr. Qvist, do lobbyists view the climate crisis as an opportunity to reframe dangerous nuclear energy as a technology that could save us?

Qvist: Well, I would take objection to the framing of that question, because it suspects anyone who finds arguments in favor of nuclear power of being a lobbyist - and devalues his arguments. And there are good, factual arguments, such as nuclear power being an energy source which does not produce any greenhouse gas emissions during operation. Which has additional benefits of not being dependent on the weather. The fact that it is climate friendly is indisputably one of the main reasons we should look at nuclear power as a part of the energy system.

DER SPIEGEL 34/2020

The article you are reading originally appeared in German in issue 34/2020 (August 14, 2020) of DER SPIEGEL.


DER SPIEGEL: How do you see it, Mr. Dorfman?

Dorfman: Why should anyone build a nuclear power plant? Renewables are much cheaper. The climate crisis is going to hit us hard and quicker than we planned for - but this actually speaks against nuclear power.

DER SPIEGEL: Why?

Dorfman: Climate change poses a number of unique challenges to humanity. One of the most difficult is that we have to be carbon neutral as soon as the middle of the century. Now, the unfortunate reality is that you could not build enough reactors fast enough even to replace the existing reactors that will reach the end of their lifetime before 2050.


DER SPIEGEL: So Germany made the right decision to phase out nuclear energy?

Dorfman: Absolutely. There is still no final repository for nuclear waste and economically viable operation is impossible. Many safety questions are unresolved. Even utilities in Germany are clear and blunt: They say they would not even consider getting back into nuclear. The only political party that is against the shutdown is the partly extreme-right-wing AfD, and AfD also denies climate change.

Qvist: I do not know German politics, but just because the wrong people agree with you doesn't mean the cause is wrong. To me, the German phase-out is a terrible decision, one of the worst decisions for the environment and the climate that anyone has ever made. One study shows that the phase-out led to the death of more than 1000 people every year – not even accounting for the millions of tons of CO2 that have been released. And the phase-out isn't even done yet!


DER SPIEGEL: Let us explain this briefly: You're referring to the fact that because of the nuclear phase-out, we're burning more coal. And many people are being killed by coal smoke and its pollutants - sulfur dioxide, nitrogen oxides, mercury, arsenic?

Qvist: Exactly.

A mothballed reactor in Stade: "One of the worst decisions for the environment and the climate that anyone has ever made." Foto: Robert Grahn / euroluftbild.de / picture alliance / dpa


DER SPIEGEL: The phase-out led to massive investments in clean energy, including wind and solar, which wouldn’t have happened without that decision.

Qvist: True, Germany has done fantastic things for the climate, being an early investor that plunged a lot of money into wind and solar. Germany should be lauded for doing that, as well as for developing a lot of technologies that we need for the low-carbon future. This decision, however, to prematurely shut down nuclear power plants really is a blotch on the scorecard.

DER SPIEGEL: How so?

Qvist: By 2025, Germany will have spent more than 500 billion euros ($591 billion) on its energy transition. The result has been climbing prices for electricity, CO2 emissions have hardly dropped at all and Germany’s energy mix remains climate unfriendly. In 2022, when the last reactors will be decommissioned, problems will become even worse. At Germany’s rate of adding clean energy, it would take the world more than a century to decarbonize. And the existing nuclear plants in Germany are not even uneconomical. They're wonderfully operating plants. Some of them.

Dorfman: Hang on, let’s talk about the ageing nuclear plant issue here…

Qvist: …some of the plants that will be shut down, like Emsland and Grohnde, are probably the best operated power plants of any kind that have ever been run on planet Earth. Shutting them down is an affront to good engineering, to climate, to people, to the environment, to humanity!

Dorfman: The opposite is true. Ageing nuclear plants pose a very real risk of serious accidents. They have little or no defense against terrorist attack, aircraft crashes and climate-change impact such as sea level rise, which weren't thought about when these reactors were designed.

DER SPIEGEL: Still, we have to decarbonize the energy system as soon as possible to prevent catastrophic consequences. How do we get there?

Qvist: The popular answer is renewables, but wind and solar alone at a reasonable system cost is a fantasy. They are becoming cheaper, but they are not available around the clock, and batteries that could power entire cities for days or weeks show no sign of materializing any time soon. But we actually have proven models for rapid decarbonization: France and my home country of Sweden decarbonized their grids decades ago - and Germany emits almost eight times as much carbon dioxide per kilowatt hour as France and more than 40 times as much as Sweden. But above all: over 40 percent more than the EU average.

DER SPIEGEL: Mr. Dorfman, the CO2 footprint of people living in France or Sweden is indeed only half that of Germans. Why is theirs not a model for the world?

Dorfman: Because it is not a sustainable solution. The key about nuclear is the cost of the bill. Take France: The majority of the French fleet is in relatively serious trouble. They don’t have modern safety measures such as core catchers.

DER SPIEGEL: When they no longer meet the standards, they need to be retrofitted. Isn’t that enough?

Dorfman: But partial retrofitting can do little to change this. An almost complete rebuild would be needed just to get through compliance with today’s safety standards.

DER SPIEGEL: So France and Sweden will run into a really big problem in 20 years?



Dorfman: Yes. They will very, very soon. While France has committed itself to reducing the share of nuclear energy in electricity production to 50 percent by 2035, the estimated cost of the reactor fleet life extension in France is about 50 to 100 billion. And Sweden’s booming wind power is surpassing its capped nuclear fleet this year. We must not build new nuclear plants but shut down old plants as fast as possible.

Qvist: I disagree. The German and the French nuclear plants are producing cheap and stable electricity. The absolute fastest option for decarbonizing the energy sector is not to shut them down.

DER SPIEGEL: And do what instead?

Qvist: Use a combination of renewables and nuclear - the most cost-effective combinations you can find of all low-carbon sources. In the world today we have around 20 electricity grids that are zero-carbon year-round. More than half of those are very poor countries that have one or two big hydroelectric power plants and use very little electricity. That’s not a model anyone could follow. Then you have three or four countries with renewable systems that are based on geographical luck. Norway is a good example. They have ample hydro power. Or Iceland: They have both geothermal power in the ground and hydro power. Costa Rica is similar. But then you have four regions that are already across the finish line in terms of decarbonized power without completely relying on luck. Those four systems are Sweden, France, Switzerland and Ontario in Canada, all of them relying on a combination of renewables and nuclear.

Dorfman: The market seems to think otherwise. U.K. offshore wind projects are projected to produce electricity at 47 pounds per megawatt hour. The current projected electricity price for Hinkley Point C, a new nuclear plant being built in the UK, is 109 pounds per megawatt hour. The difference is just astonishing, isn’t it?

DER SPIEGEL: Other so-called Generation 3 plants are currently under construction, including Olkiluoto in Finland and Flamanville in France. Mr. Qvist, all of them are hugely expensive, years behind schedule, and without massive subsidies, they would not exist. Do they really make sense?

Qvist: Europe has not built any nuclear power plants for a very long time, it’s not very surprising that the first of their kind get expensive.

Dorfman: You can say that Olkiluoto was first of a kind, but this isn’t true for Flamanville, which is also years behind. If the French can't build to cost and time, then where can you build? Nuclear is now conclusively shown to be seriously more expensive than renewables.

DER SPIEGEL: Which figures are you thinking of?

Dorfman: The rating agency Standard & Poor’s reports that investment in renewables is at $350 billion per year. For nuclear, it fell to 17 billion last year. And this trend is likely to continue. The International Energy Agency reports an annual global growth of 35 percent in solar and 17 percent in wind energy. Nuclear growth is less than 1 percent! The only way that you're seeing new nuclear being built is with vast public subsidy, in China, in Russia, and amazingly, as a mad outlier, in the U.K. Nuclear plants cost so much; they take so long to build that they really cannot help us to slow down climate change. Renewables, on the other hand, get cheaper all the time.

Qvist: In every case where nuclear power was shut down, renewables have not filled the gap. Why is Germany not decarbonized, although it is going full-on with renewables? Its CO2 emissions intensity from electricity production is many times higher than that of France and Sweden, and its electricity costs to consumers are also vastly higher. You cannot find a better climate investment than maintaining and modernizing the existing European reactor fleet to keep it in operation.

DER SPIEGEL: Although 54 reactors are currently being built worldwide, the share of nuclear energy in electricity-generation is only ten percent and will continue to decline. If the nuclear renaissance you are praising was happening, why aren’t more countries expanding their capacities?

Qvist: The reasons are economics and fear. In recent decades, the United States and some European countries created ever more complicated reactors, with ever more safety features in response to public fears. This has driven up costs. China and South Korea can build reactors right now at one-sixth the current cost of what they are in the United States. In the longer term, dozens of start-ups are developing new reactors that can be mass-produced, potentially generating electricity at lower cost than fossil fuels. The key is standardization and repetition.

Dorfman: That’s a pipe dream, none of these innovations have worked so far. France’s sodium-cooled ASTRID-reactor for example has been cancelled.

Solar power plant in Nevada: "Renewables and energy efficiency reduce emissions more and faster." Foto: E+ / Getty Images 
AND KILL MORE BIRDS BY FRYING THEM ALIVE


Qvist: ASTRID is a failure, yes, but there are probably 30 new reactor designs being put forward right now, some of them with serious venture capital backing. You have, for example, the whole variety of so-called Small Modular Reactors, SMR.

DER SPIEGEL: They have nothing to do with the gigantic nuclear power plants of the past ...

Qvist: That's right, these are small conventional reactors that will be commercialized by the late 2020s. This is happening. NuScale, a U.S. company, is about to finalize its licensing process for its SMR and already has a customer. It would be insane to not give them a chance to see if they can deliver on their promises.

DER SPIEGEL: Ursula von der Leyen, President of the European Commission, excluded nuclear from EU’s new Green Deal...

Qvist: ...yes, and that is very, very damaging. Pressured by countries such as Germany, Luxembourg and Austria, the EU is torpedoing anything that could have a positive impact on nuclear.

Dorfman: For good reasons, to not harm the EU budget. Look, in the past, nuclear went bigger so that the costs would come down. It’s called economy of scale. Now, all of a sudden, you're saying that the economy of scale is not important and can be magically replaced by the economy of replication?

Qvist: Well, would you like to see those innovations succeed?

Dorfman: For me that’s not the point. There is just not the capacity to build sufficient nuclear plants to help us solve the climate crisis. Even if you're willing and able to overcome all the other unsolved problems - affordability, accidents, waste management, proliferation, and system inflexibility – we just do not have an unlimited amount of money.

DER SPIEGEL: The International Energy Agency has just acknowledged that the growth of renewable energies has slumped, as of late. Can the world still rely on them alone?

Dorfman: Look, we need to use the capital that we have for decarbonization in a way that gets the best emissions reduction for every euro spent in the shortest time. Nuclear is not competitive on both criteria. Renewables and energy efficiency reduce emissions more and faster. It's not a question of doing renewables and nuclear, it's a question of doing renewables or nuclear.

Qvist: Renewables and nuclear is a proven success story, renewables alone is not. Beyond decarbonizing today’s electric grid, we must replace fossil fuels in transportation, industry and heating. We must provide for the fast-growing energy needs of poorer countries and extend the grid to a billion people who now lack electricity. That’s just not possible without nuclear!

DER SPIEGEL: More than 80 percent of the world’s primary energy still stems from fossil sources. Wind and the sun provide less than 2 percent. Worldwide energy consumption 30 years from now is projected to be about 50 percent higher than it is today. How can we get there?

Dorfman: We need to create a green hydrogen economy with all its components, energy efficiency, storage and interconnectivity between electric grids. The last thing that you need in such a system is nuclear, because nuclear is either on, or it is off. It is very bad at what we call load following...

DER SPIEGEL: ... you’re talking about the process of flexibly starting them up and shutting them down when renewables fail.



Qvist: Obviously, wind and solar are wonderful. I am not here to be against anything. I’m for everything. But it is a fact that nuclear is the only scalable low-carbon heat source that we have. With that heat, we can provide district and industrial-process heating, and more effectively produce hydrogen. Things like that will make nuclear flexible for the grid while churning out 100 percent core power all the time.

Dorfman: Germany and other countries are eyeing new offshore wind farms dedicated to green hydrogen production. We don’t need nuclear to do this.

Qvist: But let's say you have a week of lull. You don't have much sun because its winter. You don’t have a lot of hydro. Where is your power coming from?

Dorfman: It’s a combination. We have to talk about hydrogen, interconnectors and load balancing. Even solar energy produced in the Sahara could be used to power parts of Europe. And we need storage…

Qvist: ... what kind of storage? If it's batteries, that’s just an unimaginable cost on a grid level. If it's hydrogen, you have to build electrolyzers and hydrogen storage. That’s what I mean when I talk about system costs. You have to pay for all these things.

DER SPIEGEL: Gas plants are very flexible. Why not use them in addition to renewables?

Qvist: This works, but it’s a fossil energy source that emits a lot of CO2 and pollutes the air.

DER SPIEGEL: The idea is to eventually replace the fossil gas by synthesized gas produced from hydrogen.

Qvist: Again, you would have to invest in all the infrastructure, and you need to include that in the costs. We don't have a hydrogen economy yet. And by the way, do you think it would be safer than nuclear? I am not so sure.

DER SPIEGEL: Are you kidding?

Qvist: Not at all. Statistically, nuclear power is the safest form of large-scale energy humanity has ever used. Mining accidents or gas explosions kill people, sometimes in large numbers, and smoke from coal-burning kills us, as I’ve mentioned before, in enormous numbers. By contrast, in about 60 years of nuclear power, only three accidents have raised public alarm, Three Mile Island, Chernobyl and Fukushima, and even during these catastrophic events not many people have been killed directly through radiation. I mean, we have hydroelectric power, which is a wonderful zero-carbon electricity source. But it has got a far worse safety record than nuclear. Dams burst, thousands of people have died.

Dorfman: The problem with nuclear is that, if and when it does go wrong, things go really, really go wrong. I'm an advisor to the Irish government on radiation risk. We commissioned a study that stated clearly that if there was severe contamination from a nuclear accident, it would largely bankrupt Ireland because of impacts on agriculture. So, reducing risk to body counts is really problematic.

DER SPIEGEL: But don’t we have to balance this risk against the existential risk of climate change?


Dorfman und Qvist with DER SPIEGEL reporters Philip Bethge (left) and Rafaela von Bredow (right) at University College London: "This is fear-mongering." Foto: Horst Friedrichs / DER SPIEGEL


Dorfman: The problem is that we all make different assumptions and come to different conclusions. Let’s stick to what we know, and that is that radiation is dangerous to human health. An influential study in Germany, the KiKK study, showed that clusters of leukemia cases in little children and infants were more likely to be found near nuclear plants…

Qvist: ... this study has been debunked because it did not fully assess factors other than radiation. There is just no correlation between radiation and leukemia close to nuclear plants.

Dorfman: Every radiation-protection organization in the world will tell you that there is no safe dose of radiation. And when you talk about a nuclear accident, you're not simply talking about cancers such as leukemias. You are talking about a whole raft of other things that happen way down the line, including probably genomic instability in generations to come. The complexity of the debate is mind-boggling. Why would you want to invest money in a such a highly dangerous technology? And I haven’t even started with the risks of nuclear waste.

Qvist: Civilian nuclear waste has never harmed anyone. We have stored it for 60 years in more than 30 countries and nothing happened. Highly radioactive nuclear waste is a tiny component in the vast mass of hazardous materials that we as a society produce, including toxic arsenic, mercury and lead, which last forever. And in the future, we will be able to burn nuclear waste as fuel in new types of reactors.

Dorfman: It's not that simple. We have high-level radioactive waste, intermediate and low-level waste. There is the idea that we can dig a deep hole and get rid of it. However, new research shows that the materials that the U.S. and other countries plan to use to store high-level nuclear waste will likely degrade faster than anyone previously knew.

Qvist: This is fear-mongering, I am sorry. How many people have died from civilian nuclear waste? None. It’s a solved problem. The Finnish nuclear regulatory agency has approved the plans for a repository near Olkiluoto. It is being built and will be ready soon…

Dorfman: … will it work? That’s still open to debate. We will only know in about a thousand years.

DER SPIEGEL: Mr. Dorfman, you are 64 years old, Mr. Qvist, you are 34. Do you think that our discussion is an intergenerational dispute?

Qvist: I believe so. In Sweden, for instance, you see the young generation being increasingly pro nuclear because they see it as an efficient measure against climate change. We see that once misconceptions are being fought by facts, opinions can change rapidly. In polls, only 11 percent have an anti-nuclear stance.

Dorfman: If you were to ask that question in Germany, you may well receive a very different answer. I don’t believe that it is a generational issue. Everybody's worried about climate change. The key is how we can respond to it. And therein lies the discussion.

Qvist: Just for kicks, I might agree with you.

DER SPIEGEL: Mr. Qvist, Mr. Dorfman thank you very much for this interview.

The Dark Side of State Power
Exploring Right-Wing Extremism in Germany's Police and Military
The Hitler salute, threatening emails, weapons staches, terror cells: Numerous police officers and soldiers in Germany have engaged in right-wing extremist activity. But how big is the problem and what can be done about it? A DER SPIEGEL investigation.

13.08.2020,
Foto: [M]: Ralf Hirschberger/ dpa

By Matthias Bartsch, Maik Baumgärtner, Jörg Diehl, Matthias Gebauer, Hubert Gude, Konstantin von Hammerstein, Roman Höfner, Julia Jüttner, Martin Knobbe, Gunther Latsch, Roman Lehberger, Ann-Katrin Müller, Sven Röbel, Ansgar Siemens, Andreas Ulrich, Wolf Wiedmann-Schmidt, Rebekka Wiese, Steffen Winter and Jean-Pierre Ziegler


You can't spend all of your time preparing for the apocalypse. Sometimes, as was the case on the first Monday in August, the lawn needs to be mowed.

That lawn was in front of a brick home outside northern German city of Schwerin. A bumper sticker on the mobile home in the driveway read: "God bless our troops, especially our snipers."

At first, the man pushing the mower - dressed in olive-green pants and a camouflage baseball cap – showed no interest in talking. But he ultimately turned off the mower, came over to the fence and discussed natural catastrophes, power outages and other emergencies Germans should be preparing for. With the country phasing out nuclear and coal energy, Marko G. said, the country's energy supply is in danger and a huge blackout may occur. As a patriot, he explained, he is prepared to defend his homeland, no matter what the crisis, "and I will risk my life to do so."


In the group Marko G. founded five years ago – called Nordkreuz, or Northern Cross – his intentions didn't always sound that honorable. He sent one of his comrades an image, for example, showing soldiers pointing their weapons at a man lying on the ground, captioned, "Asylum application rejected." On Adolf Hitler's birthday, he shared a photo of the dictator with the words: "Happy birthday." He referred to German Foreign Minister Heiko Maas as "scum."

Nordkreuz once counted around 40 members, preppers getting ready for "Day X," a mythical moment when all public order breaks down. The group remains active today, Marko G. says.


When police launched a criminal investigation against Marko G., they found an Uzi submachine gun in his possession along with a silencer and 40,000 rounds of ammunition. State prosecutors charged him with violations of the War Weapons Control Act – marking a man who had once sworn an oath to protect the German constitution as a possible danger to the state.

Marko G. served as a soldier in the German armed forces, the Bundeswehr, for eight years. He then spent 20 years in the police force. He was a sniper and a member of the Special Deployment Commando (SEK) belonging to the state criminal police office of Mecklenburg-Western Pomerania.


Today, he is a free man, having been handed a suspended sentence for his weapons possession charge. The regional court in Schwerin ruled that it was "a one-time lapse – if extensive in both time and substance." Prosecutors appealed the ruling and Marko G. was suspended by the police. "Everyone does stupid shit at some point," he says, and insists that he is not a right-wing extremist.
Beyond Isolated Incidents

A one-time lapse? An isolated case? Politicians have used such arguments for decades to play down right-wing activity in the police and Bundeswehr out of concern that the large majority of upstanding soldiers and police officers might suddenly be viewed with suspicion.

But it has become difficult to ignore that the number of isolated cases is growing, or at least that this is the impression among the public. More and more right-wing extremist incidents are becoming widely known, in particular within the elite Special Forces Command (KSK). In Frankfurt, meanwhile, officials have been trying for two years to determine which public servant passed along sensitive addresses from the police computer - addresses that later received horrifying threats signed with "NSU 2.0", a reference to the National Socialist Underground, the neo-Nazi terror cell responsible for a series of racist-motivated murders between 2000 and 2006.



DER SPIEGEL research found that German states and the federal police force have recorded at least 400 suspected incidents of right-wing extremist, racist or anti-Semitic activity in recent years among police officers or trainees. It is, on the one hand, not a large number. But any member of the public service who does not firmly believe in the German constitution is a problem.

German Interior Minister Horst Seehofer has demonstratively thrown his support behind the police in recent weeks. "Our security agencies are a jewel," he said in late July in comments to the Munich newspaper Münchner Merkur. The statement followed weeks of debate in Germany over racism in the country's police force, a discussion triggered by the Black Lives Matter protests that had spilled over from the U.S. Seehofer decided that it was unnecessary to carry out a study on how often police officers stopped Black citizens for no reason. "The officers have my absolute support," he said.

Yet even Seehofer, from the conservative Bavarian party Christian Social Union (CSU), appears to realize that simple expressions of loyalty are no longer sufficient. In February, following an attack in Hanau in which a right-wing terrorist shot up two shisha bars, killing nine and wounding five, Seehofer called right-wing extremism "the greatest threat facing our country." Last year, he asked the Federal Office for the Protection of the Constitution, Germany's domestic intelligence agency, to investigate right-wing activities among civil servants. The initial focus was on security agencies, with results expected following the summer break.

Defense Minister Annegret Kramp-Karrenbauer -- of the Christian Democrats (CDU), the CSU’s sister party -- also told parliamentarians in June that she will "not tolerate right-wing extremism or any other form of extremism in the Bundeswehr.” Following several right-wing incidents in the KSK, the minister summarily disbanded the unit's 2nd Company.
Nightmare Scenario

There have simply been too many disturbing reports in recent months from Germany's security apparatus. It has led to growing concerns that the incidents that have been publicized may just be the tip of the iceberg. Stephan Kramer, president of the State Office for the Protection of the Constitution in Thuringia, is one of those harboring such concerns. "When special forces units in the military and police call the state into question and perhaps even establish right-wing networks, that should make us extremely worried," he says.

An attack on the state perpetrated by those trained to defend it - security personnel trained in the use of weapons – would be a nightmare scenario for Germany.

In a confidential report, an expert commission later pieced together that Marko G., the former SEK member from Mecklenburg-Western Pomerania, began drawing concern many years ago. Other police officers were put off by the slogans uttered by Marko G. during a training event just east of Schwerin in 2009. A memo to his commander noted that he was conspicuously interested in National Socialism and especially in the SS, "without exhibiting the necessary distance." But the memo went nowhere.

Marko G.'s fondness for the Nazis apparently didn't bother anyone in his SEK unit, which was primarily made up of former elite soldiers from the Bundeswehr. According to the special investigators, there was "little knowledge and sensitivity" in the unit for statements and symbols from the right-wing extremist scene. They found that this led to the development of problematic "subcultural tendencies."

Marko G. set up a chat group for the Nordkreuz prepper group in January 2016 that quickly began attracting others with radical beliefs. In testimony provided to the Federal Criminal Police Office, one witness said that two members of the group, a lawyer and a criminal investigator, discussed "collecting and killing" left-wing supporters of refugees on "Day X.”

Lists of enemies, including the names and addresses of regional politicians, were also discovered. The German Federal Public Prosecutor has initiated a terrorism investigation into the lawyer and criminal investigator, but it has not yet been completed.

DER SPIEGEL 33/2020 


The article you are reading originally appeared in German in issue 33/2020 (August 8, 2020) of DER SPIEGEL.


The case that currently carries the greatest risk of eroding trust in the police force leads back to a suburb of Frankfurt. This is where the policewoman Miriam D. lives, in a whitewashed apartment building. Her partner, also a police officer, opened the door when DER SPIEGEL dropped by for a visit, but declined to answer any questions.

The 35-year-old policewoman and her boyfriend were members of a chat group called "Itiotentreff” (meaning "meeting of the idiots”) whose activities primarily consisted of sending each other racist and anti-Semitic images. Six police officers in the central German state of Hesse - where Frankfurt is located – were part of the group, most of them working out of the same station.
"We Will Slaughter Your Daughter”

State prosecutors in Frankfurt stumbled across the group when inspecting the smartphone of Miriam D., who was being investigated for a possible connection to the threatening missives sent out in the name of NSU 2.0. Her office computer account was used to send out a query on Aug. 2, 2018 about the Frankfurt-based lawyer Seda Başay-Yildiz, who had represented one of the co-plaintiffs during the NSU trial in Munich.

About an hour and a half after the query, a fax was received by Başay-Yildiz's practice. "Wretched Turkish swine!" it read. "You will not ruin Germany." The fax included the address of her two-year-old daughter's place of residence, which was not publicly listed for security reasons, and the little girl's first name. "We will slaughter your daughter in revenge," it continued. The lawyer called the police.

Two years have passed since that fax and the perpetrators still haven't been identified. Miriam D. denies having sent the query for the lawyer's data and says that many other colleagues had access to her computer. Conclusive evidence of her possible involvement has not been found.

In the meantime, more and more threat letters with the NSU 2.0 signature have turned up, most of them targeting women working in politics, journalism or the arts, though a few men have also received them. In February, Hesse Interior Minister Peter Beuth of the CDU repeated the usual trope of there being "isolated incidents." But he has since changed his tune and no longer excludes the possibility that a network may be behind the letters. He too has since received a threat letter – either from the NSU 2.0 or a copycat.

It isn't easy to determine just how many police officers in Germany harbor right-wing extremist convictions. DER SPIEGEL surveyed the interior ministries of the 16 German states in addition to the Federal Interior Ministry, asking how many suspected cases of right-wing extremism, racism or anti-Semitism in recent years they were aware of. Smaller states like Saarland and the city-state of Bremen reported just one or two incidents that haven't been substantiated. Others, like Lower Saxony, Schleswig-Holstein, Bavaria and Saxony-Anhalt, sent comprehensive spreadsheets listing up to two dozen suspected cases. Hesse only delivered information from the last two years, but it included 70 suspected cases, the highest number by far.

Many incidents are connected to social media platforms. In Lower Saxony, a drunk police officer drew a swastika on the forehead of a sleeping colleague and posted the photo to a chatgroup along with the words "Heil Hitler." He was fined 500 euros ($590).
Small but Dangerous

In Brandenburg, the state that surrounds Berlin, nine police officers posed for a team photo in front of a wall covered in graffiti from the local right-wing radical scene. In the Lower Saxony town of Jever in March, a senior police official discovered a medal of honor from the Hitler Youth, complete with a hard-to-miss swastika, pinned to a bulletin board. Public prosecutors closed the investigation because the swastika was not visible to the public, but disciplinary proceedings are ongoing.



In North Rhine-Westphalia, a sticker from the Identitarian Movement - reading "Defend yourself! It's your country!" – was discovered in a car belonging to the reserve police force.

In other cases, violence was involved. In a McDonald's in Augsburg, a drunk police officer yelled at an asylum seeker from Senegal: "Black man go home!" He then shoved a half-eaten hamburger into the man's face and punched him, joined by a colleague. The primary culprit was given an 11-month suspended sentence.

According to the survey compiled by DER SPIEGEL, there have been at least 340 suspected cases of right-wing extremist, racist or anti-Semitic activity in German state police forces or among their trainees since 2014. There were 73 such cases in the federal police force since 2012. There have also been incidents in which uniformed officers were found to be members of the "Reichsbürger" movement, a group that rejects the legitimacy of the postwar German state. There 18 of them in Bavaria, with another 12 in the federal police force.

Around 400 known cases among more than 250,000 police officers doesn't sound like much, of course, and is far from being the kind of fascist shadow army within the police force that some have warned about. Most are likely to be isolated individuals, or perhaps organized in small networks with the occasional link to others. But they are united by the belief they need to do something about what they see as the catastrophic state of the country and strengthened by the feeling that they are part of a silent majority. This makes them a greater danger than a small, identifiable group with a hierarchical structure.

Police officers with far-right sympathies used to share their ideas in the bar or changing room, but the internet makes things much easier. It allows right-wing extremist officers from around the country to easily interact.

Once senior police official from northern Germany refers to such groups as "particle accelerators." Those involved, he says, egg each other on "with a mixture of tasteless jokes, half-truths and outright lies."

Dirk Baier, a criminologist who teaches in Zurich, also believes such chat groups represent a "real danger." He notes that when they're on duty, officers must follow strict rules governing their behavior. "They are subject to drastic guidelines and strong oversight," Baier says. "They have to play a role when they are on duty." He argues that this can make confidential discussions with colleagues of the same political persuasion feel all the more liberating for them.

If even just a tiny fraction of all police officers harbor racist prejudices or extremist attitudes, Baier says, it can result in significant spaces in which radicalization can occur. In other words, it isn't particularly important how many they are. More decisive is the dynamic that unfolds.
Worrisome Incidents

In one incident in late February in the city center of Aachen, in western Germany, two policemen sitting in their car guarding the local synagogue were – allegedly unknowingly – sending out "Sieg Heil" chants over the police radio. It quickly became clear that one of the two had been watching the Amazon series "Hunters," a fictional take on investigators tracking down Nazis in 1970s New York, on his private mobile device, which is where the chants had been coming from. State prosecutors ruled that no law had been broken.

But in examining the officer's mobile phone, investigators discovered a questionable chat conversation between officers belonging to the Aachen-West station, of which the two policemen were members. The participants would share pictures, including one depicting a group of Black people with eyes wide open alongside the sentence, "The welfare office is broke, time to get to work." Another photo showed an eagle holding the swastika in its talons. In reference to the 2018 World Cup in Russia, it read: "This time we're coming in summer."

An investigation into three officers for incitement and the use of anti-constitutional symbols is ongoing. One of the officers who was sitting in the car in front of the synagogue is among those being investigated.

Dirk Weinspach, the Aachen police president who was formerly responsible for right-wing extremism at the State Office for the Protection of the Constitution, said after case was made public that he expects his officers to demonstrate "clear and active support" for the fundamental values outlined in the constitution. It says a lot that he even had to make such an appeal.

Chief Public Prosecutor Peter Frank, for his part, isn't exactly known for his rousing speeches. But early this year, he delivered what could be described as one to criminal police officers in Berlin.

The address focused on right-wing extremism and the danger it posed - in part, Frank emphasized, because it comes from the center of society. Frank reminded his listeners of the Weimar Republic, the interwar period of democracy in Germany, and of the fact that it failed in part because of a lack of commitment to democracy. "Every case is one too many," he said, adding that he has "zero understanding" for officers who form groups to prepare for some "Day X" when everything is allegedly going to collapse. "If that day should ever arrive, I expect you to defend the state."

Frank's emotional speech came in response to the fact that in the last three years, his office has repeatedly found itself investigating right-wing extremists who are on the state payroll. And his office only gets the worst cases, in which there is a real suspicion the person represents a clear and present danger to German democracy or its citizens.
Possible Plans for a Terror Attack

The case of Franco A., who was arrested on April 26, 2017, in Hammelburg, east of Frankfurt, is one such example. The senior officer in a German military battalion based in the French town of Illkirch had registered himself with local authorities as a Syrian asylum seeker named "David Benjamin," written nationalist essays, likely planned an attack and hidden a firearm in a restroom in the Vienna airport. He had also scribbled notes investigators believe may have related to potential attack targets, including the Amadeu Antonio Foundation, one of the largest anti-racism initiatives in Germany. Franco A.'s trial will soon begin in Frankfurt. His lawyer denies that his client had been planning to carry out a terrorist attack.

Then there is the so-called Gruppe S., which federal prosecutors have been investigating for months. The terror cell's alleged accomplices include a police administrator from the state of North Rhine-Westphalia.

Investigators intercepted conversations held by the group in which they discussed a coming civil war. On one weekend in February, 12 of the men met in the home of a tile-layer in the town of Minden. According to investigators, they discussed taking concrete action: Several killer commandos were to storm mosques and kill Muslims.

Just a few days later, Thorsten W. was getting ready to go to work - in the police commissariat responsible for traffic violations in the city of Hamm – when he was arrested by special forces. Investigators found several daggers, swords and axes in his home, in addition to Nazi symbols and stickers from the Identitarian Movement.

Following his arrest, the police employee claimed he had gotten involved by accident. He says that during the meeting with the other men, he had asked the others if they were planning a massacre such as the one in Christchurch, New Zealand, in which attackers killed 51 people. A short time later, he says, he left.

Federal prosecutors, however, are unconvinced and Thorsten W. remains in pre-trial detention on suspicions of supporting a terrorist group. They accuse him of having pledged 5,000 euros to the group for the purchase of weapons. He denies it.

The officers in charge of the case ultimately had to admit that they could have taken the man into custody much earlier. His colleagues had long known of his political views. He would read the right-wing extremist paper Junge Freiheit at work and a had flag from the German Empire – often used as a right-wing symbol – fluttering on his balcony.
Not a New Phenomenon

The police employee also wasn't shy about demonstrating his radical views on the internet. In one social network, he posted a photomontage showing Chancellor Angela Merkel in a straitjacket along with the sentence: "Ready for the loony bin." On another occasion, he posed for pictures as a Germanic warrior. On still another, he wore a camouflage jacket from the Nazi era. He wrote: "I hope that more people in this country will finally wake up and realize the kind of left-wing radical Stasi culture we are living in." Many people knew about his proclivities, but nobody did anything – as has been the case in so many similar cases.

In response to the Thorsten W. case, North Rhine-Westphalia Interior Minister Herbert Reul of the CDU embedded so-called extremism delegates in all the police departments in the state. Department employees can approach these ombudspersons to report possible extremist activities or statements from their colleagues. "I don't believe right-wing extremists belong in public service," says Reul.

Right-wing extremism in the police force is hardly a new phenomenon. Only recently has it become clear, however, that all previous attempts to fix the problem have apparently failed.

Political scientist Hans-Gerd Jaschke studied racism in Germany's police forces back in the 1990s. Following reunification, the country experienced a wave of right-wing extremist violence, including incidents in the cities of Hoyerswerda, Rostock-Lichtenhagen, Mölln, Solingen and elsewhere. The number of racist attacks committed by police officers also increased at the time.



Jaschke wanted to know why xenophobia was prevalent among police officers. He conducted a survey at the time of around 500 beat cops in Frankfurt, spoke with experts and led group discussions. He found "a partly aggressive rejection" of multicultural urban society. Around 15 percent of those surveyed said they voted for Republikaner, a right-wing radical party. Among police response teams, the number was 17 percent.
"Reality Shock”

Officers from outside Frankfurt who had been assigned to patrol the drug-infested area around the city's main train station proved especially prone to racism, Jaschke says. "Racist attitudes have to do with the one-sided experiences police have while on duty," he says. "But Algerians and Moroccans can also be respected doctors or business leaders. The police, though, didn't see that." For them, people from such countries were almost exclusively criminals.

"Many young police officers come to us as idealists. They then encounter the misery on the streets. It is a sobering experience."


A police official discussing recruits



A current study among police trainees in North Rhine-Westphalia confirms Jaschke's impression: Racist views receded significantly during the three-year training program, only to rise again once they went on duty. "That could indicate a kind of reality shock," says the criminologist Baier.

The officers suddenly find themselves confronted with violence. "Many young police officers come to us as idealists," says one officer. "They then encounter the misery on the streets. It is a sobering experience."

Many migrants interpret the German police force's emphasis on de-escalation as a weakness, says one officer. "They are used to greater severity from the police back home." As a result, the officer says, police are taunted or attacked, resulting in a distorted perception. "We pretty much have no contact with those migrants who obey the law."

For many officers, their sense of resentment is partly spurred by dissatisfaction, says Jaschke. Many of those he surveyed in the mid-1990s, he says, felt as though they weren't valued by their superiors or by the public at large.

That remains a dilemma today. The more the debate about right-wing extremism among cops is discussed, the more frustrated the officers become. The debate frequently makes them feel as though they are all under suspicion. "It a disquieting conclusion, but the majority of my people no longer trusts our political system," says one senior officer. And that translates into an increased danger of sliding into the extreme right.
Boon for the AfD

One party that has been able to profit from this loss of faith is the Alternative for Germany (AfD), the right-wing populist party that has grown increasingly radical in recent years. A number of police officers are on their membership rolls and five of the 89 AfD lawmakers in German parliament are current or former cops. By comparison there are three among the center-left Social Democrats, one each among the CDU and pro-environment Greens and none in the pro-business Free Democrats and in the Left Party.

Sebastian Wippel, a state lawmaker for the AfD in Saxony who has taken a leave of absence from the police to serve in parliament, believes it makes sense. "Police have a pronounced respect for the rule of law," he says, adding that the AfD is the only party that defends law and order. He says the fact that Germany's Office for the Protection of the Constitution has determined that parts of the party represent a danger to German democracy does nothing to change that perception. But he might be mistaken on that count. Some police have already turned their backs on the party for fear of consequences. If the domestic intelligence agency determine that the entire party is suspect, more may follow.



At the same time, though, some AfD demands are likely to be well-received by right-wing police officers. "Accelerated asylum proceedings with no opportunity for appeal," is one. The party would also like to introduce a criterion it calls "anti-German crime" and wants the migration background of criminals to be listed by country of origin in police statistics. Wippel helped develop the demands as part of the "Domestic Security" working group.

Rüdiger Lucassen, an AfD parliamentarian and head of the party's state chapter in North Rhine-Westphalia, claims there is also a fair amount of support for the AfD among soldiers. Lucassen served in the German military from 1973 to 2006, most recently as head of the army's central training facility. Prior to that, he was a helicopter pilot.

Many soldiers feel like politicians no longer understand them, Lucassen claims, saying that several KSK members had written him of their frustrations. "The suspicions of widespread right-wing extremism expressed by (former Defense Minister Ursula) von der Leyen and (current Defense Minister Annegret) Kramp-Karrenbauer achieved the opposite of what they intended," says the AfD member. "The Bundeswehr doesn't have a right-wing extremism problem. Otherwise, it wouldn't be operational."
Close Monitoring of Some Individuals

The Defense Ministry has developed a different view of the situation. In accordance with his wishes, Gerd Hoofe, a state secretary in the ministry, is presented each morning with a thin file. Hoofe is responsible for the 264,000 men and women in the Bundeswehr and can't focus on each and every one. But he does keep an eye on a small group of them.

It currently consists of 42 people listed in the file - right-wing extremist soldiers, many of whom have been a problem for several years. The military hasn't been able to get rid of them, leading the state secretary to focus more of his attention on the issue.

One name on the list is that of Pascal D., a lieutenant-colonel covered in tattoos up to his neck. He served for years in the KSK, based in the Black Forest town of Calw. He was seen as something of a hero in the 2nd Company for the amount of time he had spent serving abroad.

Pascal D. makes an appearance in Hoofe’s file because the 2017 party marking his departure from KSK, held at a private shooting range. After the officer proved his prowess in a pig-head throwing competition, he and his comrades, according to witness testimony, sang along to right-wing extremist rock music, raising their right arms in the Hitler salute by the campfire.

Nevertheless, Pascal D. is still a member of the German military. He accepted the penalty handed down by a civilian court for the Hitler salute, but later denied everything before a military court. His case is currently before the Federal Administrative Court, where he is trying to avoid being thrown out of the Bundeswehr.
Concern About MAD

Indeed, it seems easier to disband an entire unit than get rid of a soldier facing serious accusations. That, though, is why State Secretary Hoofe ensures that he receives updates every morning on right-wing extremism in the armed forces.



He could, of course, make the argument that 42 suspect individuals are insignificant given that the Bundeswehr has more than a quarter million troops. And that even the 638 suspicious cases currently under examination by the German Military Counterintelligence Service (MAD) make for a relatively insignificant number. Or he could point out that of the 25,000 recruits who enter the armed forces each year, only 38 were filtered out in the last three years for right-wing extremist proclivities, or that in the last nine months, 78 young men and women were eliminated from consideration during the initial interview process.

Such justifications could be used. But even the Defense Ministry has begun wondering how much they truly know.

"We don't yet have a sufficiently clear view of the situation," says Hoofe. What are the troops' political views? How deeply rooted are anti-democratic notions in the Bundeswehr? Are there structural links between the military and the far right? None of that is known for sure and the last empirical study is 13 years old.

That study involved surveying up-and-coming officers at the Bundeswehr Universities in Munich and Hamburg. Almost half of the respondents were critical of the "political system" and the condition of parliamentarianism in Germany. The study also found, however, that the 26 percent support for far-right ideas among 15 to 32 years olds in broader society was twice as high as the rate found among the officers-in-training at the two Bundeswehr universities.

There have been no new numbers since then, but the military leadership would like to change that. The Center for Military History and Social Sciences of the Bundeswehr has been assigned with conducting a large study to examine how widespread extremist ideas are in the German military. It will involve asking troops for the first time about the political parties they support, which should help determine if the military leans to the right. The results are to be released next year.
Troubling Incompetence

No case has fueled the Bundeswehr's change in thinking as much as that of Franco A. The trail led from him to obscure chat groups where users discuss unhinged theories about the world's downfall. Chat groups such as the one operated by Marko G. in Mecklenburg-Western Pomerania. Some of these groups were moderated by "Hannibal," the screen name used by then KSK soldier André S., the central figure in a club known as Uniter whose members include police, military and security personnel. Germany's domestic security agency recently officially classified the club as a "suspicious case." The agency is now investigating the club's activities to determine if they present a danger to the constitution and whether permanent surveillance is called for.

One of the reasons right-wing extremist ideas were able to penetrate high up into the KSK hierarchy is the incompetence of the MAD, the military intelligence agency. As one high-ranking general says, the agency's more than 1,000 employees saw its primary task for years as "preventing bad news about the Bundeswehr rather than uncovering right-wing structures." In the case of Franco A., the agents had to sheepishly admit they had no idea about his activities.

In response, the agency is to bring on 400 new employees in the coming years. The department head responsible for combatting extremism was replaced and the defense minister appointed a domestic intelligence official as the MAD’s vice president. His job will be to ensure that indications of right-wing activity in the military are not hushed up out of misguided notions of comradery and that every new case be shared with civilian agencies.

More than anything, his job will be to ensure that the MAD doesn't always look laughably incompetent - as it did in May, when investigators with the Saxony police arrested Philipp S., a KSK soldier. Police found an entire weapons depot on the man's property in the northern Saxon town of Collm, including several thousand rounds of Bundeswehr ammunition, a Kalashnikov, two kilograms of plastic explosives from KSK stockpiles and Nazi emblems.

Shortly after the search, a lieutenant-colonel with MAD shared the secret photos of the weapons depot with an old friend in the KSK. That person was so shocked by the images that he immediately told his comrades at Special Forces Command in Calw.



The lieutenant-colonel was immediately transferred out of the MAD, but why did he pass the information along in the first place? To show off, as he claims? Or to warn others in the KSK who may have helped Philipp S. amass his arsenal?

Is it possible that there are even right-wing extremists in the MAD, which is actually tasked with combating such extremism? It seems possible. Recently, an officer in an investigative unit responsible for coordinating with German domestic intelligence was quickly removed from his post. Domestic intelligence agents had warned the MAD that during their meetings, the officer had made extremely problematic comments.

An order has since been handed down that all those working at the MAD must undergo a comprehensive security check in the coming months. Agency head Christof Gramm is under immense pressure, with Defense Minister Kramp-Karrenbauer having made clear to him that his next mistake will be his last.
Hard to Expel

After all, the defense minister herself is under pressure. What if new cases keep popping up despite the strict course she has charted? Cases like the one in June, when Bundeswehr investigators told the ministry about accusations leveled by KSK soldiers against one of their trainers. In Afghanistan, the trainer, Lieutenant-Colonel W., allegedly said that the situation there was "like the Holocaust." Later, during a discussion about rising milk prices in the country, he allegedly wondered "what Jewish swine" was behind the increase.

The lieutenant-colonel in question isn't just any old officer. As head of the training department, he was in charge of drilling incoming KSK troops. He was immediately placed on leave and transferred to a different unit. But that was just the beginning of the problems faced by Bundeswehr leadership.

An attempt was launched to boot him out of the military altogether but doing so isn't easy. This is evidenced by the case of another officer who penned several questionable messages in a chat group, including: "If the tooth fairy needs a second job, she can scrape the gold out of the teeth of Jews." The case was revealed in September 2018, whereupon the officer's superior banned him from wearing his uniform. A short time later, he was preliminarily suspended. State prosecutors, however, stopped an investigation into suspicions of incitement, saying that public peace had not been disturbed.

In March 2019, the officer successfully appealed to have all punitive measure lifted. The military's disciplinary court found that the penalty was not proportional to the offense. That ruling, however, was appealed in June 2019.

In October, the Federal Administrative Court ruled that the officer's suspension had, in fact, been legal and referred the case back to the military's disciplinary court. Documents in the case were filed in February, but proceedings aren't likely to take place this year.

As a result, the lieutenant-colonel is still a member of the Bundeswehr two years after the incident. And he will likely remain so for at least another year.
Dangers in the Reserves

Although active-duty soldiers have attracted the most attention for right-wing extremist views thus far, an additional group is beginning to slide into the spotlight: reserve troops. Men like Dennis T., who shared videos containing anti-Semitic conspiracy theories. Or like Christian G., who lives in a single-family dwelling in the Lower Saxony town of Wriedel. The paving stones of his driveway are arranged to form the Iron Cross, the old Prussian military decoration that is popular among the extreme right.

Pursuing a tip, the MAD discovered in late June that the reservist was active in right-wing extremist WhatsApp groups. On his mobile phone, investigators found a list of names and addresses belonging to politicians and other public figures - a list that had long been circulating in the neo-Nazi scene. The man was immediately pulled out of the reserve exercise he was participating in.

In July, police confiscated a tank shell the man had in his possession, in addition to a dismantled rifle, likely a blank gun. G. works in a repair shop on the military base in Munster, where investigators discovered another weapon, a device suitable for firing tank shells, an empty magazine and numerous fireworks.
Undermining Public Trust

The situation poses a considerable challenge for German politicians. If the right-wing extremist incidents continue to mount, public trust in the military and police will sink. How can a state institution be trusted when it includes members who are against the state?

"If the information is widely shared, there won't be any more information. Those are the ground rules."


A police superintendent in a message to a chat group about improperly shared information



A case in Berlin shows just how dangerous the symbiotic relationship between police and extremists can be. During investigations into right-wing extremist arson attacks in the Berlin neighborhood of Neukölln, investigators from the State Criminal Police Office (LKA) confiscated a suspect's mobile telephone. The suspect, named Tilo P., was a former functionary in the local AfD chapter. In examining the device, investigators found that he belonged to a chat group with 12 members, all of whom the LKA identified as being part of or involved with the AfD.

As the German public broadcaster ARD first reported, one of the group members, a police superintendent in Berlin, was apparently passing confidential police information along to the other members of the chat group. In December 2016, for example, he apparently shared information about the investigation into the Islamist terror attack on the Christmas market in Berlin.

"Please don't pass it along for the time being," the police superintendent wrote, according to the chat log. He said he didn't want to see the information in the newspaper the next day, or on right-wing radical news platforms like PI-News or Compact. "If the information is widely shared, there won't be any more information. Those are the ground rules."

Berlin prosecutors are now investigating the police superintendent on suspicions of having violated confidentiality rules.

But the chat logs weren't the only sensitive find made by LKA investigators. They also discovered that Tilo P. had made alarming comments about a department head at the state prosecutor's office in a Telegram chat with another former AfD member. The prosecutor's office "is on our side," P. allegedly wrote immediately following an interrogation. The prosecutor, he wrote, is "an AfD voter," adding that the man "hinted as much."

According to the LKA, the prosecutor is the head of the unit that later investigated Tilo P. for arson. His department was also the one that received the LKA memo about the sensitive chat protocols.

Federal prosecutors one step up the ladder apparently only learned of the incident after the lawyer for a co-plaintiff sounded the alarm. The department head has since been transferred and couldn't be reached for comment. Tilo P.'s defense attorney likewise declined to discuss the case.
Possible Infiltration

Stories like this one suddenly make it seem plausible that public agencies could be infiltrated by right-wing extremists. How many police officers are still participants in clandestine chat groups? How many of them have ties to right-wing criminals?

Following the summer break, a secret Bundestag report – more than 500 pages long, assembled by a special investigator who has spent a year and a half combing through dozens of file folders full of right-wing extremist incidents involving soldiers, reservists and Special Forces personnel – is to be presented. The special investigator has provided lawmakers with preliminary results from his investigation on two occasions, each time in a bug-proof room. Sources familiar with those oral reports say that his findings are devastating, especially for MAD.

After the summer break, the Federal Office for the Protection of the Constitution is also planning on presenting its report on right-wing extremist activity within Germany's security agencies. The states are working on their own measures.

Andreas Geisel, the person responsible for the interior affairs portfolio in the Berlin city-state government, is hoping to set up a whistleblower system in the police force, allowing officers to anonymously report extremist activity among their colleagues. Such a system has thus far only existed to uproot corruption.

Geisel's counterpart in the state of Brandenburg, Michael Stübchen, intends to go one step further and is considering an examination for all public servants to determine their loyalty to the German constitution. "Why should such an examination be inappropriate for public servants when every security worker at the airport has to submit to one?" the politician asks.
Not all German states are open about incidents of extremism within the ranks of public officials and police.


A cross-referencing between all public servants and the database kept by the Office for the Protection of the Constitution would be more effective, but that is not permitted by German law, as it would be tantamount to the kind of radical actions taken in the 1970s and '80s.

In the battle against left-wing and right-wing extremism back then, West Germany removed thousands of mostly Marxist, Communist and other left-wing extremists from schools, universities and public agencies or prevented them from being hired in the first place. In many cases, the decisions were completely arbitrary, as a commission in Lower Saxony found in 2018. As a result, the state's Interior Ministry has determined that "politically motivated career bans, spying and mistrust can never again be an instrument used by a democratic state."
More Supervision?

Police departments are also considering what improvements can be made. One idea involves regular visits by police officers to mosques and synagogues to counter the negative impressions they collect on the streets, or visits to Syrian or Turkish families. Another idea being pursued in Saxony-Anhalt is more supervision combined with additional training on the dark sides of "cop culture." In Berlin, officers are to be shifted around more often to prevent them from remaining in problematic areas for too long.

An initial step, though, would be more transparency. Not all German states are open about incidents of extremism within the ranks of public officials and police.

In Saxony, for example, no response was initially given to queries about what happened to the police officer who had used the name "Uwe Böhnhardt" in an internal list of officers on duty during a visit of Turkish President Recep Tayyip Erdogan. Uwe Böhnhardt was a member of the National Socialist Underground right-wing terror cell.

In another case, DER SPIEGEL was able to gain access to information by way of a court ruling. During investigations into a 2016 attack on the Fatih Mosque in Dresden, inspectors stumbled across connections between one of the suspects and the police officer Roland G.

In analyzing his Facebook page, they discovered "tendencies toward the right-wing extremist Reichsbürger movement.” They found that he also intended to establish a militia group called "German Knights" and had engaged in incitement though virulently xenophobic speech. The officer, who had most recently been in charge of the shooting range belonging to the Dresden police department, also allegedly shared a video by the Holocaust denier Ursula Haverbeck and apparently had a soft spot for radical groups like the Identitarians, the Islamophobic group PEGIDA and the Initiative Heimatschutz. The man was later handed a 4,000 euro fine for incitement.

But how do police in Saxony deal with a convicted extremist in their service? They initially refused to answer the question.

Following a ruling by the Dresden Administrative Court and then the Higher Administrative Court in Bautzen, the Saxon police had no choice: They had to provide an extensive response to the query about what happened to the man. The answer? Roland G. is still a police officer in Saxony.
Bolsonaro's Vendetta
Assault on the Rainforest Continues in the Shadow of the Pandemic

As the country suffers under the coronavirus pandemic, an unprecedented attack on the Amazon is taking place in Brazil. President Bolsonaro is actively promoting slash-and-burn agriculture that threatens to destroy the region and further harm the climate.

By Marian Blasberg
13.08.2020, DER SPIEGEL

The slashing and burning of the rainforest in northeastern Brazil: There were 2,248 such fires in June alone. Foto: Victor Moriyama / The New York Times / REDUXPICTURES / laif

In a time when politicians are media-savvy role-players, it's not that often that you have the chance to peer behind the facades. The way they talk when they're among themselves, their hidden intentions - all that usually remains concealed. But a video recently emerged in Brazil that will take your breath away. The recording was made in April, showing a cabinet meeting. A judge released it because it documents President Jair Bolsonaro's attempt to protect his family from police investigations.

The footage, some two hours long, is shocking, and not just because of Bolsonaro's aggressive tone. More disgraceful is the ideological hysteria with which his then-education minister demanded the imprisonment of Brazil's supreme court justices, saying the "scoundrels" ought to be locked up. And the family minister's follow-up comment that critical governors were not to be forgotten. Or the silence of the generals who were sitting at the table.

Not to be outdone, however, was the man many Brazilians now call the "minister of environmental destruction,""Ricardo Salles. He said that the COVID-19 crisis, which has torn through Brazil more violently than almost anywhere else, presents an "opportunity." With all the media attention focused on the deadly virus, he said, the government needed to use the moment to change the state of play in the Amazon region, specifically, Salles said, by eliminating red tape and reducing obstructive environmental regulations. "Let's run the cattle herd," he shouted. Salles was referring to the law, but he might as well have said the rainforest. It ultimately boils down to the same thing.


With news websites so full of COVID-19 coverage, it does, in fact, take quite a bit of scrolling before reaching the conclusion that actually, the cattle drive has long since begun.

Brazil's National Institute for Space Research (INPE) reported in June that 10,000 square kilometers of forest disappeared last year, the largest total since 2008. Meanwhile, research by the NGO Human Rights Watch revealed that the Environment Agency, which is part of Salles' portfolio, has virtually stopped imposing fines on illegal loggers, and two inspectors were recently fired for obeying the law and destroying the equipment of gold miners who had been caught illegally mining. In April, Salles allowed some indigenous reserves to be opened for commercial use. Not long later, he legalized the commercial use of thousands of former forest plots that had been appropriated by their now legitimate owners through land theft.

An Unprecedented Attack

Taken together, all of these stories form a larger narrative. With the people of Brazil forced to remain indoors due to the coronavirus, an unprecedented attack on the rainforest is taking place deep inside the country. The attacks are so targeted that they do, in fact, make it look as though the window of opportunity is being used to get rid of indigenous peoples who oppose the commercialization of their territories.

It feels like the endgame. As though something is being broken that can no longer be put back together.

"I hate the term Indigenous Peoples," Bolsonaro's then-education minister said after Salles' remarks about the cattle herd. "There is only one people in this country. We need to end this business of peoples and privileges!"


The Amazon rainforest is a complex system consisting of various water cycles. The forest sweats under the tropical heat and the rising vapor creates dense clouds which then stream southward – essentially airborne rivers that are responsible for the rich green of the hills outside my window in Rio de Janeiro. Last year, when tens of thousands of fires raged in the Amazon region, they carried so many soot particles that night fell on São Paulo in the early afternoon. There was an apocalyptic air to it.


Indigenous peoples activist Ysani Kalapalo: She suddenly saw "opportunities for development everywhere." Foto: 

Luiz Maximiano / DER SPIEGEL


Scientists say that the problem is that around one-fifth of Brazil's tree population, an area the size of Chile, has already disappeared. If another 10 percent is destroyed, it is possible that the system, which needs a certain amount of area and density to survive, could collapse for good. The result would be a process whereby the forest - from the outside in - would inexorably transform into a savanna. The trees would no longer absorb 5 percent of the greenhouse gases emitted worldwide and would instead emit CO2 themselves as they rot. It is all inextricably linked: the global climate, the forest and the fate of its indigenous peoples.

Some 225 tribes, almost a million people, live within protected territories in Brazil. No outsiders are allowed to enter without permission and it is the inhabitants themselves who largely decide on what economic use is permitted on their lands. As such, it's not really a coincidence that deforestation has decreased continuously in recent years. It is said that if you want to save the forest, you have to protect the habitat of the people who live in it. But Bolsonaro has a different view. He sees the indigenous as being animals that need to be freed from the zoo.

DER SPIEGEL 33/2020

The article you are reading originally appeared in German in issue 33/2020 (August 8, 2020) of DER SPIEGEL.

A speech he gave in September provides a better view of what he is actually planning. It is essentially his Amazon manifesto.

A few weeks after the fires in the Amazon, Bolsonaro stepped up to the podium at the United Nations General Assembly and explained to a worried world that these fires were the product of the annual dry season. He said claims that the fires had been set by soy or cattle farmers because they felt encouraged by the Brazilian president were an invention of the sensationalist media.

"It is a fallacy to say that the Amazon is the heritage of humanity and a misconception ... to say our forest is the lungs of the world," he hissed in comments directed at Greta Thunberg, who was leading the climate protection protests in Manhattan at the time.
"The World Shall Know Our Wishes"

Then he got to the actual point he wanted to make. He explained that a handful of indigenous people occupied 14 percent of his country's land. The soils of their reservations, he said, some of which are as large as Portugal, contain gold, diamonds and minerals, like niobium and uranium. Bolsonaro believes it's not only in Brazil's interest to allow corporations to exploit these treasures. He argued that the indigenous inhabitants no longer want to live like cave people. As proof, he read out a letter that had allegedly been signed by representatives of 52 ethnic groups.

These people want to develop, said Bolsonaro, and they want their territories to be developed without ideological or bureaucratic shackles. They want quality of life and all the trappings that go along with it, like televisions and cars.

Then he peered out at a young woman sitting in a pink blazer in the gallery, with a Brazilian flag resting on her shoulders. "The world," Bolsonaro said, "shall know our wishes through the voice of Ysani Kalapalo."


Brazilian President Jair Bolsonaro: "It is a fallacy to say that the Amazon is the heritage of humanity and a misconception, as scientists say, to say our forest is the lungs of the world." Foto: 

Bruna Prado / Getty Images


Ysani was the author of the letter, and most Brazilians heard her name for the very first time that day. Ysani, it seemed, was one of those dystopian figures from Bolsonaro's universe that no one knows outside of social media. She's an anti-Greta, who refers to herself as a "a 21st century Indian" on YouTube.

Ysani has a half-million followers on her YouTube channel, where she shares video clips from her everyday life and talks about everything from fishing to body painting. But she also posts political messages, or denounces leaders of the indigenous resistance as being "manipulated by others." When she stood in front of a dozen microphones after returning from New York, she repeated the mantra.

"Why are we forced to live as we did a hundred years ago?" Ysani demanded. "Why don't we get off the drip of government welfare programs?" With her long hair falling down her face, she looked like a guerrilla fighter.

Several days before her appearance, some leaders whose tribes, like the Kalapalo, live along an Amazon tributary, had published an open letter, saying that Ysani doesn't speak for the majority of the indigenous people. They claim she's a traitor who allowed herself to be manipulated by others to try to convince the world that a colonialist project was acceptable.

Ysani lives most of the year in Embu das Artes, a suburb of São Paulo. Her parents have a small stall in the center of town where they sell handicrafts. Ysani brought her sister along to a café for our interview, in addition to a 10-year-old cousin who had just left her riverside village for the first time. The girl had a mystified look on her face as she gazed at a petit gâteau Ysani had ordered.

"Come on. It's just vanilla ice cream," Ysani said, but the little girl didn't touch it. Ysani tried to goad the cousin by holding the spoon out to her, but the girl turned away. It went on like that for a while until the girl finally caved, and there are no words to describe the expression that appeared on the child's face at that moment.

Ysani grinned, pleased with herself. Development.

The Kalapalo are one of 16 ethnic groups living within the borders of the Xingu Indigenous Park, where they live off of fishing, picking wild fruits and cultivating cassava. Ysani was 12 when she left the village. After experiencing a bout of delirium that lasted for several weeks, a shaman determined that she had been possessed by an evil spirit and advised her parents to take her as far away as possible. They traveled for a month before ending up in a homeless shelter run by a church on the outskirts of São Paulo. The doctors who examined Ysani at the time suggested that she may have epilepsy, but even today, she's not totally sure.
Nobel Savages

As her parents worked as servants for a wealthy family, Ysani learned how to look at her past through the eyes of a white woman. "It was disturbing," she says. She didn't recognize herself when her teachers spoke of noble savages who lived together in harmonious collectives. She recalled the world she came from as being macho and crude and says her father suffered because he had four daughters but only two sons. It was a place, she says, where a woman's opinion didn't carry much weight. She says she saw a handicapped child be buried alive and reports that one girl bled to death after being gang raped.



Ysani reinvented herself as an indigenous feminist who wrote about all these things on Facebook. Left-wing activists invited her to podium discussions, but little by little, her priorities shifted. Ysani says that studying economics provided her with new impetus. Instead of Karl Marx, she read biographies of Steve Jobs and Mark Zuckerberg. Suddenly, she saw "opportunities for development everywhere."

Ysani lobbied for her village of Tehuhungu to be connected to the electricity grid and applied for the village be provided satellite internet. She also managed a website that enabled tourists to book visits and stay with her relatives, but that wasn't enough for Ysani.

"Why do we have to beg forever until the government finally lays an overland cable?" she asks. "Why do we have to swap tons of pequi fruit to get the neighboring big landowner to build a dirt road through the fields for us?"

The reality is complicated. The territories where ethnic groups like the Kalapalo live belong to the government, and because they are under special protection, there are limits to their use. If the indigenous people want to engage in more than just mere subsistence farming and exploit their land commercially, they first must prove that their project is in line with environmental regulations. In theory, that would mean they could grow soy on a large scale. In practice, though, they aren't granted licenses because they would have to clear-cut larger areas and the pesticides used would seep into the soil or rivers.
"Talk, Talk, Talk"

With every application Ysani files, she must rely on the National Indian Foundation (FUNAI) as an intermediary. The agency is supposed to be there to represent her, but she mostly views it as a bureaucratic hurdle. "We talk, talk and talk," she says, "but nothing happens."

If it were up to her, FUNAI would commit itself to building roads. After that, she would like to see it provide seeds, fertilizer and gasoline. And there should be a plan to compensate the locational disadvantages faced by the Indigenous Peoples. Ysani says they also need seed financing and laws that make partnerships with companies possible. That was her hope when she rang Bolsonaro's doorbell shortly before the 2018 election to interview him for one of her video clips.

Since then, she's been a member of the establishment.

Almost half the villages on the Xingu are now connected to the internet, and the people there listen to what she's saying, especially the younger ones. By speaking directly to them, Ysani has sown doubts about the authority of tribal leaders, whom she depicts as being stuck in the 20th century. And that's what Bolsonaro is all about: By presenting his concerns as those of the indigenous peoples, Ysani is driving a wedge through the resistance.

The conflict, though, isn't merely an ideological one. Developments inside the rainforest are very real. In March, Jeferson Alves, a member of the Brazilian National Congress, shouted "never again!" as he severed a legal barrier on the border of the Waimiri-Atroari Reservation with a chainsaw. Meanwhile, the Yanomami people, whose territory is home to 25,000 illegal gold miners, reported its first COVID-19 victims in April. And despite the crisis, the meat industry posted record revenues this summer.

Of course, it`'s nonsense when Ysani says she speaks for the Indigenous People. There are more than 200 peoples who speak more than a hundred different languages and believe in completely different creation myths. Some, like the Kalapalo, seek to connect with the world of the white man. Others have retreated so deep into the forest that we only know of their existence through word of mouth. Still others have only recently been contacted and continue to live in voluntary isolation.
Undermining Cohesion

The result is an extremely wide divide, with some Brazilians currently waiting for high-tech ventilators from China to treat their COVID-19 symptoms, while others have placed their hopes on the herbs of a miracle healer.

Along with social inequality, this temporal asymmetry is the second significant challenge to social cohesion in the country. How to address that divide is a key issue when it comes to the national identity.

Development is a concept that doesn't exist in indigenous cultures. It's based on a linear worldview that first arrived in Brazil with the Portuguese, who compared the development of human societies to climbing a ladder. The topmost rung corresponded with the ideal of scientific reason. On the very bottom rung, they placed the people in the forests, who first needed to be exorcised of their belief in spirits.

Missionary zeal was one aspect. The other was the elites' desire to overcome the backwardness of their colony by tapping the resource-rich hinterlands. They combined the two in a single belief structure: That you needed to force the indigenous peoples into the production processes in order to civilize them.

The first time the Kalapalo came into contact with the whites was in the early 18th century, when mercenaries came up the Xingu to recruit slave laborers for the gold mines of Cuiabá. The same thing happened in other parts of the Amazon. Troops of whites dragged natives into mines, sugar cane plantations and coffee and rubber fields. Even the abolition of slavery in the late 19th century did little to change the reality of a growing demand for cheap labor.

What changed was the narrative surrounding the indigenous peoples. The "savages" came to be seen as children in need of a guardian.

Leaders of the Kalapalo people: The "savages" were seen as children who needed a guardian. Foto: Ricardo Moraes / REUTERS


Still in the 1960s, when the military dictatorship made the development of the Amazon one of their regime's priorities, many justified the violent integration of the indigenous peoples with the vague hope that they would be inspired by the "spirit of progress." The construction of the Trans-Amazonian Highway brought hundreds of thousands of settlers to the region. All the massacres, the measles and flu epidemics that wiped out entire tribes, the wounds that forced contact inflicted on peoples' souls - none of that entered the Brazilian consciousness until an indigenous resistance formed, demanding ever more emphatically the recognition of historical rights, respect, and the freedom to decide for themselves whether they wanted to develop or not.

Ailton Krenak, a member of the Krenak tribe, summed up what they were all about when he became the first indigenous person to speak in the National Congress shortly after the end of the dictatorship. "In light of the aggressiveness of economic forces, their greed and ignorance, you can no longer remain silent," said Krenak. "How can people who sleep on mats in palm huts be called enemies who stand in the way of Brazil's development?"
Bolsonaro's Vendetta

Many of the indigenous demands were incorporated into the new constitution in 1988. Brazil, it seemed, was on its way to making peace with its past, with the asynchronism of its cultures and their apparent incompatibility. For a man like Bolsonaro, who was trained as a paratrooper under the dictatorship, those advances must have come across as a perpetual affront. The borders that were drawn around the indigenous territories, the FUNAI guards who protected them from invaders, the fines that were paid by the loggers and gold miners - he considers all that to be a glitch of history.

As such, his attack on the forest is essentially a vendetta aimed at restoring a colonial order that he considers to be natural.

Ysani is no longer quite a close to such developments as she once was. She drew widespread criticism when she mentioned in a tweet this spring that a foundation belonging to businessman Jorge Paulo Lemann had paid for her studies. Lemann is one of the richest people in Brazil and many Bolsonaro supporters consider him to be a "globalist" because of his social commitment. Ysani says the president hasn't responded to her WhatsApp messages since then. "Maybe I was wrong about him," she says. "Maybe we don't share the same goals." Or perhaps he just doesn't need her anymore.

"I know Ysani. I know she comes from a difficult family. Her father is an aggressive, bad-tempered person who has been accused of violence and witchcraft. When one of her sisters committed suicide, the family moved away and founded a new village, Tehuhungu. Ysani sometimes goes there to shoot her videos. She's an outcast on the Xingu – she's all about money and fame."

The woman who says this is named Kaiulu Yawalapiti Kamaiurá and she runs a small NGO working for the rights of indigenous women. She grew up 50 kilometers from Ysani on a side arm of the Xingu. The stories of their peoples are similar and Kaiulu was also in New York in September. She was attending a protest rally when Ysani made her appearance at the UN. "It's unbelievable," Kaiulu says, "that one of us is serving this perpetrator of genocide."

Kaiulu is a shy woman in her early forties who has given birth to six children. She offers courses in which she explains to women how they can apply for support without the mediation of a guardian. She is also encouraging Kaziks to develop a stronger voice.

Kaiulu is fighting her fight with the methods of the 20th century. Whereas Ysani speaks to people through her smartphone, Kaiulu's most important tool is a boat that she uses to navigate from village to village along the Xingu. Her biggest problem right now is that she is no longer able to afford the diesel fuel. FUNAI, which provides most of her funding, has almost completely halted its remittances and she says the funding applications have become so complex that they are almost certain to get caught up in bureaucracy. Kaiulu believes this is deliberate.

Ideological Zealots

The FUNAI regional office responsible for the Xingu Indigenous Park is now run by the military, as are the majority of the 39 regional offices. The Isolated Peoples Department at FUNAI is under the control of an evangelical missionary who wants to force contact with these tribes. To reiterate: FUNAI is actually intended to protect the integrity of the territories, as is the Environment Ministry. Instead, though, Minister Salles is working to legalize the export of freshly logged trees, which has so far been prohibited.

Budgets are being cut while departments and jobs are being eliminated. Key positions have been filled with ideological zealots. This is how Bolsonaro is getting the results he wants. And then there are the speeches like the one he gave in New York, essentially a coded message to criminals that nobody is going to penalize them if they head into the rainforest.

Now that more than 130 ethnic groups are reporting coronavirus infections, with hundreds of people sailing to Manaus on crowded boats because health posts near their villages are empty, it looks almost as though Bolsonaro has figured out a way to get the virus to work for him. There seems to be no other explanation for why he is blocking significant elements of a law that would require him to provide doctors, drinking water and food to the reservations.
Concern Is Growing in Europe

In June, 2,248 fires raged in the Amazon region, the highest number in 13 years. The journal Science recently wrote that 20 percent of the soy exported to Europe comes from areas that have been illegally cleared.

In July, some of Brazil's largest companies declared in an open letter that Bolsonaro's reputation-damaging environmental policy could have serious consequences for the economy. They have one main reason for their concern: In June 2019, the European Union and the South American economic community Mercosur reached a deal on a trade agreement that many companies had been hoping for. The treaty is currently awaiting approval from national parliaments, but members of the Dutch legislature ultimately decided not to ratify it in its current form.

In Europe, it appears, concerns are growing that large quantities of cheaply produced agricultural goods are harming our own farmers, who aren't particularly competitive. Fear is also mounting that more forests are being cleared to create new arable or pasture land. Even though Bolsonaro has committed himself to curbing deforestation, there are no mechanisms to sanction Brazil if it violates the rules.

Ultimately, the issue seems pretty simple. In order to survive, we need intact forests. If we want to die, the savanna will do. We don't have much time to decide.