Let us pause for a moment and acknowledge the sheer absurdity of our times. Germany, the nation that spent decades meticulously scrubbing the stain of Nazism from its public life, has now revealed that nearly 60,000 far-right extremists are lurking within its borders. One might think this is a scandal, a call to arms, a moment for soul-searching. Instead, it is simply another data point in the great theatre of European decline.
To put this in perspective: 60,000 is roughly the population of a middling English town. It is a number that would have been unremarkable in the Weimar Republic, a whisper compared to the millions who marched under the swastika. Yet today, it triggers a Pavlovian response from the continent's political class: tighter restrictions, more surveillance, another round of hand-wringing about the 'rise of the far right.' The irony is palpable. We are so terrified of history repeating itself that we have become hysterical historians, seeing jackboots in every shadow.
Consider the context. The report from the German domestic intelligence service, the BfV, notes that the number of 'politically motivated crimes' by far-right extremists has increased by 5.5 per cent. Dreadful, yes. But let us compare this to the broader climate. Germany has absorbed over a million migrants since 2015, many from cultures with values profoundly at odds with liberal democracy. It has seen a surge in anti-Semitic attacks from Islamist quarters. And yet, the focus remains squarely on the native fringe.
This is not to excuse extremism. It is to diagnose a pathology. Europe, and Germany in particular, has become a civilisation obsessed with its own guilt. It projects its historical trauma onto every sneering skinhead and every internet troll. In doing so, it forgets that the real threat to liberal order may not come from a handful of malcontents in Bavarian beer halls, but from the very institutions that have lost the confidence of their people.
Recall the final decades of the Roman Republic. The senate grew so preoccupied with rooting out 'conspiracies' and 'enemies of the state' that it ignored the rot within its own walls. The result was not a purer republic but a Caesar. Our own Caesars are different: they are bureaucrats, security agencies, and the endless machinery of control. They will keep us safe from 60,000 extremists by monitoring our emails, restricting our speech, and anointing themselves the guardians of right-thinking.
But here is the uncomfortable truth: the far right thrives on victimhood. Every time a government trumpets its 'crackdown' on extremists, it validates the narrative that the system is rigged against the native population. It gives them a stage. It makes martyrs of nobodies. It is the political equivalent of feeding a troll.
The smarter approach, the Victorian approach, would be to ignore them. Let them rant in their forums and their pubs. The vast majority of Germans are not extremists. They are decent, hard-working people who are tired of being lectured about their history by people who have no understanding of it. By focusing on the 60,000, we give them a grotesque importance they do not deserve.
Instead, the authorities should ask a different question: why does a prosperous, stable nation like Germany produce such a number? The answer is neither simple nor comfortable. It involves the erosion of national identity, the failures of multiculturalism, and the hollowing out of working-class communities. But those are complex issues requiring nuance, and nuance is a casualty of the moral panic.
We are left with a paradox. To fight the far right, we must stop obsessing over it. To preserve liberal democracy, we must allow it to breathe. The 60,000 will not storm the Reichstag. But if we continue this crusade against shadows, we might just create the conditions for a real disaster.
So let us put away the smelling salts. Germany is not 1933. It is 2023, and the greatest threat to European security is not the fringes but the centre: the cowardly, unaccountable, ever-expanding state that cannot distinguish between a serious threat and a bogeyman. That, dear readers, is the true crisis.
