German extremists are modeling their American counterparts

The terrorist plot foiled by German security services makes abundantly clear that far-right extremism is not a uniquely American problem, but a pervasive threat to Western democracy. 

In a series of raids across Germany, 3,000 members of law enforcement apprehended 25 people suspected of plotting a coup.  

Eerily reminiscent of certain aspects of the Jan. 6 attack on the U.S. capitol, the plan called for storming the Bundestag (parliament), murdering the chancellor and seizing ministers. 

The plotters are associated with the Reichsbűrger movement, an anti-government group with approximately 21,000 followers that denies the legitimacy of the Bundesrepublik Deutschland (Federal Republic of Germany). Like anti-government groups in the United States, the Reichsbűrgers resist what they consider government overreach. Some refuse to pay taxes and engage in other forms of civil disobedience.  

The movement has been around for 50 years but has recently become more violent. In 2016, a member murdered a police officer. In 2020, adherents tried to storm the Bundestag in protest over COVID restrictions. During 2021, people associated with the movement committed more than 1,000 extremist crimes, twice as many as the previous year.  

Extremism in Germany is not new. Nazi sympathy never completely disappeared after WWII, and support for far-right groups has increased over the past three decades driven by reunification, immigration and the covid pandemic. 

Although almost universally welcomed, the reunification of Germany in 1990 had unforeseen consequences. East Germany never underwent the de-Nazification that occurred in West Germany. That reality combined with lower standards of living among East Germans fueled grievance narratives. 

Immigration exacerbated this discontent. Since the end of WWII, Germany has relied heavily on Gastarbeiter (guest workers) but never welcomed them. During periods of unemployment, usually higher in the east, resentment sometimes turned to open hostility. 

Populist politicians exploited the discontent. In 2013, they created Alternative fűr Deutschland (Alternative for Germany, ADF), a far-right Eurosceptic, nationalist party.  

The 2015 refugee Syrian refugee crisis played into the hands of ADF. Germany took in more than 1 million asylum seekers, taxing the country’s resources and fueling anti-immigrant sentiment. High-profile sexual assaults committed by Arab and North African men in Cologne on New Year’s Eve increased anti-immigrant sentiment and Islamophobia.  

Many Germans expressed their fear and anger through the ballot box. In the 2013 federal elections, ADF got just 4.7 percent of the vote. In 2017, it increased its share to 12.6 percent, giving it the third largest block of seats in the Bundestag. The party polled the strongest in eastern Germany. Most Reichsbűrger members also live in the eastern states of Brandenburg and Mecklenburg-Western Pomerania as well as in Bavaria, where the Nazi party originated. 

ADF does not condone violence, but its inflammatory rhetoric may encourage those who do, just as MAGA ideology has legitimized extremism in the United States. According to the German interior ministry, there were 3,533 attacks on hostels housing migrants and asylum seekers and 2,545 attacks on individual migrants in 2016.  

Although ADF has been quick to condemn the Reichsbűrger plot, one of the alleged conspirators is a former party member who left the Bundestag last year. At the time of her arrest, Brigit Malsack-Winkenmann was serving as a judge in Berlin. The link between mainstream politics and extremism exists in Germany just as it does in the United States.  

The COVID-19 pandemic has increased support for the far right in America and Europe. COVID-deniers, vaccine skeptics and people angry at lockdowns have found extremist movements attractive.  

Conspiracies fuel extremism on both sides of the Atlantic. The German prosecutor’s office explained that the Reichsbűrger followers “are firmly convinced that Germany is currently governed by members of a so-called ‘deep state.’” 

QAnon followers in the United States have long believed that pedophile Satan worshipers control the government. They expect Donald Trump to return to power and defeat them. 

The Reichsbűrger movement has a disturbing similarity to its American cousin the Oath Keepers. Both groups recruit former and active-duty military and police. The Antidefamation League has identified 373 members of law enforcement and 117 members of the military who it believes belong to the Oath Keepers. Many more once served in the police and armed forces. 

Fifteen of the 25 people arrested for the German plot have links to the military, including one member of special forces, and one is a former policeman. Some were active duty or reserve members of the armed forces. 

The military connection makes extremists more dangerous because of their tactical training and access to weapons. Firearm ownership is more restricted in Germany than in the United States, but the plotters still managed to acquire guns. During Wednesday’s raids, German police found crossbows, rifles, ammunition and tactical gear. 

As disturbing as extremist attacks and plots are in individual countries, the international dimension of the threat makes it even more worrisome.  

Those of us who study extremism have long been aware of how lone wolves influence one another. For example, Brenton Tarrant, who murdered 49 people at two mosques in Christchurch, New Zealand in March 2019 admitted that previous terrorists inspired him. In his 74-page manifesto, Tarrant acknowledged being inspired by Dylan Roof, who murdered nine members of an African American church in Charleston, S.C. in 2015. He also credited Anders Breivik, who murdered 77 people during his 2011 rampage in Norway. 

The Reichsbűrger plot reveals cross-pollination between groups as well as individuals. Alexander Haeusler, who studies extremism at the University of Applied Sciences in Dusseldorf, told Reuters that “the storming of the U.S. Capitol after the last presidential election showed these people that there are options to destroy the state order.” 

The internet and social media provide a convenient way for extremists to share information. Monitoring online activity has proven extraordinarily difficult. 

German authorities deserve credit for preventing what could have been a deadly attack on their country’s democratic institutions, but the plot reminds us of the pervasive threat to freedom posed by far-right extremists everywhere. 

Tom Mockaitis is a professor of history at DePaul University and the author of “Violent Extremists: Understanding the Domestic and International Terrorist Threat.”