"A Bizarre Form Of Normality"

How did the idea for the first season of the podcast come about, and why did you choose this particular topic?
I’ve been working on the topic of East Germany and its history for a long time, as well as the issues of violence and right-wing extremism. I’ve also written about these topics in my book Nullerjahre (The 2000s).
The discourse in Germany gained momentum in 2019 with Christian Bangel's #baseballschlägerjahre. Through ACB Stories, the production company behind the podcast, the idea for a documentary podcast came about. When we started discussing the first season, which was supposed to focus on the 90s, it became clear to us that the stories of those affected by right-wing violence are still massively underrepresented. At ACB Stories’ office, Don Pablo Mulemba, who comes from Eberswalde, sat with us. His father was a contract worker and knew Amadeu Antonio. That’s how we came together.
In the second season, we ask ourselves what the situation looks like today. In recent years, right-wing extremist youth have appeared openly, such as at the school in Burg, where teachers wrote an open letter after right-wing extremist incidents. There are plenty of such examples. Just now, we were talking about the 90s and the formative right-wing youth culture of that time, and today, there’s a sense that a similar momentum is building again.

How did the focus on the East come about?
We are both East Germans, we grew up in the region, and we’re deeply rooted there. The history of the East is unique, and right-wing extremism has a different dimension there than in the West. We’ve tried to approach it with a very nuanced view. It’s a false narrative to solely explain right-wing extremism as an East German problem. Right-wing extremism has existed in the West for a long time as well.

Did the very personal, partly biographical approach you chose for the podcast make you reflect differently on your own upbringing in the East?
I’ve already processed that intensively in recent years, especially through my book and long therapy. But while working on the podcast, I realized – and this is somewhat alarming – that even someone like me, who has been working on this topic and having many conversations about it, constantly realizes how little society really understands what it means for non-white people to live in East Germany. This shows that the topic still belongs on a much larger stage, as most people have no idea about the extent of it.

What were the moments when you realized that you hadn’t adequately perceived the extent of the violence marginalized people experience in East Germany?
In the first season, it was the story of Pablo and his family that really moved me. Although I had known about the topic in the 90s, it wasn’t until the personal perspective that I fully understood on a different level what it actually means and what challenges affected families and their children face.
In the second season, through Mai, I became acutely aware again of how present this violence is. She spoke about Cottbus and the 2000s, a time when I had assumed the violence would subside. Back then, I thought, "Being a neo-Nazi isn’t cool anymore." But how much of it is still present? Equally shocking was hearing from Ahmed, who only moved to Chemnitz a few years ago and told how he was yelled at by a bus driver and beaten up in broad daylight. These incidents may initially sound like a scandal, but the victims speak of them with striking casualness. This shows that it has unfortunately become a bizarre form of normality.

Why did you choose such a personal approach for the podcast?
You can treat topics technically, analytically, and scientifically. But when people talk about their personal experiences, it reaches the listeners in a completely different way and generates empathy. It makes everything much more tangible. That’s one of the podcast format's great strengths. Ideally, it allows listeners to develop a more multifaceted view of the world.

Is that what you mainly want to achieve with your podcast – showing a multifaceted view of the world?
Exactly. It’s about people realizing, “Look here, these are the experiences other people in East Germany had.” One central goal is also to process our own history. In the first season, I spoke with someone who was actively involved in the Neo-Nazi scene in the 90s. Making such stories tangible is important because it shows the person and the story behind the events. It’s about showing what foundation allowed this violence to grow – retelling the post-reunification period – and giving people knowledge they can use when talking about the East, instead of just claiming, “They’re all messed up. Just put the wall up again, and that’s it.”

You mentioned how you were both fascinated and intimidated by the Neo-Nazis you encountered in your childhood. How do you remember your perception of them? How did it change as you grew up?
In the 90s, when I was still a child, it was quite normal – almost "cool" – to be a Neo-Nazi in the area I lived in. We wanted to make this clear: There was a very specific momentum and a normality that seemed almost natural to a child like me. Neo-Nazis weren’t distant monsters to me as a child; they were very much part of my everyday reality.
In elementary school, I heard about an incident where an older student was beaten so badly that he ended up in the hospital – by guys in bomber jackets and with shaved heads – just because he looked different. That quickly made me realize that these people were scary, and I didn’t like their behavior. Ideologically, I was never interested in them. What fascinated me more was the environment in which no one intervened, where BRD institutions weren’t yet established, and where the stronger person always seemed to be right. There was constant tension, and the Neo-Nazis never showed fear – they radiated something that fascinated me as a child: “When I grow up, I want to be as strong and fearless as they are.” At the same time, I wanted to make it clear in the podcast and the book that our generation’s upbringing shaped us. For us, being a Neo-Nazi was no longer the coolest youth culture – instead, street rap took center stage, which also had elements of “tougher, stronger, cooler.” So, how much of the previous generation rubbed off on us?

How much does toxic masculinity play into the themes you’ve just mentioned?
It plays a huge role. For me, there was almost no alternative conception of masculinity. A man doesn’t have fear, doesn’t cry. Using "gay" as an insult was normal – not just in East Germany, but far beyond. This toxic masculinity also affected girls and women in my environment. They shouldn’t cry either, and they were expected to show that they were tough too.

Have you found an answer to the question of whether the 90s are back through the podcast?
That’s obviously a provocative question. Sure, the 90s haven’t come back one-to-one. The unrestrained street violence that existed back then doesn’t exist today in the same way. But there are aspects that remind us of the 90s, and right-wing extremism has a strong momentum again.
When you observe how right-wing oriented youth are now adopting the skinhead look with combat boots, bomber jackets, and shaved heads again, it’s clear that there’s a reference to the 90s. This was reflected to us by numerous voices from the East. To prevent this dynamic from repeating itself like it did back then, it’s important to look closely and learn from the past. At the same time, it’s clear that this isn’t just an East German phenomenon. Similar developments are being observed in other countries – for example, in connection with Trump’s election. That’s why it’s worth taking a broader view. Many parallels can be drawn between the 90s and today, as we discussed in the second season – for example, how much COVID-19 and other multi-crises have influenced the societal climate. These uncertainties affect not only adults but also children and always offer entry points for right-wing extremists.

What’s also partially back is the idea that it’s “cool” to be right-wing. Not just normalized, but even cool. How do we counteract this?
There’s no magic snap of the fingers to make it all better. We can be grateful for all the people who are engaged on the ground and doing incredible work under conditions that are hard to imagine here from sunny Berlin Mitte. People are doing really great work. From my own experience, I know that it takes time, external incentives, conversations, movies – and that it’s not helpful to just write people off. Of course, there have to be sanctions, but we should try to reach these people again. You won’t reach everyone, but some, and that’s already a huge accomplishment.
I’m not in favor of saying that everything is terrible and getting worse. I do believe that we all have this in our hands.

That right-wing extremist structures exist shouldn’t be a surprise. Did you have moments during your research when you were still a bit shocked?
I was surprised to find that there is a right-wing extremist establishment right in the heart of Zittau’s old town, and everyone knows about it. In the 90s, politics tried to create a club to “gather” right-wing extremist youth – they wanted at least to know where they were in the hope of reintegrating them into society and getting them away from extremism. However, this approach didn’t work. Since the 90s, many right-wing extremists have become firmly embedded in the city life, and that was quite unsettling to see.

Especially in the second season, it becomes very clear that a lot is happening. You’ve met many resistance figures in the East. Can you recall any moments that gave you hope?
What gave me hope was the conversation with Daniela, an engaged social worker. It’s really impressive how much she’s involved and how much media she consumes to be able to reach her son who is a part of the right winged scene himself. There are many people like Daniela, and that’s a huge step forward compared to the 90s. We’re constantly learning and developing better concepts.