Extreme Right | Combat 18 Trial: Delaying and Trivializing

The polemics are so loud, the demeanor so aggressive, the insolence so unrestrained that the casually uttered sentence almost goes unnoticed. Yet what attorney Jochen Lober says perfectly sums up the defense strategy in just four words: "Nothing is undisputed here." Lober represents right-wing rock dealer Gregor Alexander M. in the Combat 18 trial before the Dortmund Regional Court. The 45-year-old and his three like-minded associates, Stanley Röske (49), Robin Schmiemann (40), and Keven L. (44), are accused of continuing to operate the militant neo-Nazi organization Combat 18 Germany as ringleaders despite the ban, which has been in force since 2020.

The trial, which began at the end of June, is only four days old, but it's already clear what the defense is counting on: maximum conflict, maximum uncertainty among witnesses, and maximum questioning of even the smallest piece of evidence compiled by the Federal Criminal Police Office. Nicole Schneiders, defense attorney for alleged leader Stanley Röske from Eisenach and one of many lawyers representing the scene in this trial, not only speaks of the charges being based on "pure speculation and conjecture." She even accuses a lead investigator of "deliberate falsifications" and "deliberately false allegations."

Before the ban, members of Combat 18 Germany – the name translates as "Adolf Hitler Combat Group" – who came from all over Germany, met regularly for supposed birthday parties, hikes and "performance marches," right-wing rock concerts , and to network with other violent neo-Nazi organizations. If the prosecution is to be believed, things continued the same way after the ban. With the same people.

The Federal Prosecutor's Office has listed almost 20 meetings between October 2020 and March 2022. The State Security Chamber is now gradually reviewing them. The key issue: How can it be proven that these were actually gatherings of the banned neo-Nazi group? The defense claims that the former Combat 18 activists could have met purely as friends after the ban, so to speak, in private. And they are therefore trying their best to cast doubt on the evidential value of the investigation's findings.

For example, there was Stanley Röske's birthday party in March 2021. Money was collected for the 49-year-old in a donation box bearing the white dragon, the symbol of Combat 18. At the time, he was facing trial for violating the ban on Blood & Honour, the neo-Nazi organization of which Combat 18 is considered the armed wing. During a search a year later, police discovered a party room lavishly decorated with right-wing extremist memorabilia. Party photos of the defendants show a large black Combat 18 flag above the bar, framed by a string of lights. The problem: During the house search, the flag disappeared before it could be confiscated. "It was a bit of a silly move," admits a BKA officer. Especially since his Thuringian colleagues then noted that the banner they had seen was red. A mistake? A different flag? No, says the defense, the flag never existed. And the photos? They wouldn't prove anything. The dates of the photos could have been altered, meaning the images date from before the ban.

For hours, the defense attorneys questioned the investigator about this meeting, their questions becoming increasingly obscure, and the witness's comprehension increasing. "I'll try to phrase the question in a way that you can understand," attorney Lober said at one point, his voice dripping with condescension. This isn't the first act of disrespect the court has allowed the Cologne attorney to get away with without comment.

The strategy is to delay and downplay the situation. Progress is so slow that the court is already considering extending the trial beyond its originally scheduled end in September. The defense attorneys are open about what they hope to achieve with their strategy: dismissal of the case. "I have concerns about whether such proceedings need to be carried on for so long," says Schneiders. Her colleague Alexander Heinig, who represents Robin Schmiemann from Dortmund, is even more explicit: "We should consider whether we want to continue wasting resources on this nonsense." Deliberately dragging out the trial in order to increase the willingness to enter into agreements that shorten the proceedings: Senior Public Prosecutor Juliane Rein finds this a rather transparent maneuver. "I don't want to use the word 'blackmail,'" she says. But: "With the defendants remaining silent and the defense's behavior so far, my interest in a legal discussion is limited." The proceedings continue in two weeks.