He introduced himself as a Syrian refugee in broken English, claiming to have traveled half the continent by foot and lost his documents. He was photographed and fingerprinted by officers. In the following year, he would receive shelter, an asylum hearing, and monthly benefits. He provided the name David Benjamin. He actually held the rank of lieutenant in the German army, but disguised himself by darkening his face and hands with makeup and applying shoe polish to his beard. Instead of walking across Europe, he only walked 10 minutes from his childhood home in Offenbach. According to prosecutors, this was part of a far-right scheme to carry out assassinations that could be blamed on his refugee alter ego, sparking civil unrest to destabilize Germany. The officer, known as Franco A in court documents to protect his privacy, denies these allegations. He claims that he was attempting to reveal weaknesses in the asylum process. However, his complex deception, which spanned 16 months, was exposed when authorities apprehended him while he was trying to retrieve a concealed loaded firearm in a restroom at Vienna airport. Aydan Ozoguz, a legislator who was in charge of refugees and integration at the time, described it as a "shocking moment." She emphasized the need for the asylum system to detect fraudulent individuals but also questioned how someone like Franco A could be serving as a soldier in Germany. The arrest of Franco A in April 2017 left Germany in disbelief. Ever since then, there has been little focus on his case, but that is expected to change when he goes to trial early next year. Germany will also be on trial alongside him, not just for the oversight that allowed a German officer to pose as a refugee for an extended period without knowing Arabic, but also for its historical indifference towards combating far-right extremism. A gathering of Uniter, a private network that arranges tactical defense training sessions, in Paderborn, Germany, on March 8, 2020. The New York Times reported on two groups in Germany led by former military and police members, one of which stockpiled weapons and maintained enemy lists while the other focused on Germany's elite force, the KSK. Following the discovery of explosives and SS memorabilia on a sergeant major's property, an entire KSK unit was disbanded. The article details interviews with members of these groups, including Franco A., whose transformation from a promising officer to a suspected terrorist reflects the complexities of modern Germany. One country was created after being defeated in World War II and raised by a liberal agreement that discouraged nationalism and taught citizens to express regret. This country, Germany, is now evolving into a more uncertain nation as its wartime past fades and a previously inactive far right movement becomes active in response to a more diverse society. The postwar agreement in Germany is now at risk. When I initially met Franco A over a year ago at a restaurant in Berlin, he brought documents with him, including notes and excerpts from his police file. At that time, he appeared self-assured. A Frankfurt court dismissed his terrorism case due to insufficient evidence, but the Supreme Court reinstated it months later following an appeal by prosecutors. Franco A contacted me on my cellphone, visibly shaken. If found guilty, he could be sentenced to a maximum of 10 years in prison. Even though he was awaiting trial, he agreed to participate in a series of exclusive recorded interviews and welcomed me and two New York Times audio producers to his childhood home, where he currently resides, to talk about his life, beliefs, and various aspects of his case. I visited multiple times over the following year, most recently the week before Christmas. At times, he would show us videos of himself in disguise as a refugee. On one occasion, he took us down a noisy stairway, through a metal door resembling a safe, and into his "prepper" cellar, where he had hidden ammunition and a copy of Hitler's "Mein Kampf" before they were seized by the authorities. Franco A denies any involvement in a terrorist plot. He claimed to have pretended to be a refugee in order to expose Chancellor Angela Merkel's policy of allowing over 1 million refugees into Germany, which he saw as a danger to national security and identity. He believed that the system was too strained to properly vet incoming individuals. He maintained that he was acting in line with the Constitution, rather than against it. He asserted that he had no intention of carrying out any violent acts, and questioned why he would not have done so if that had been his goal. The prosecutors did not comment officially, but their claims are detailed in the Supreme Court ruling. They cite evidence such as a concealed gun at the Vienna airport, an illegal assault rifle, a visit to a potential target's parking garage, and numerous voice memos and diaries kept by Franco A. over the years. I have reviewed these transcripts from police reports and evidence files, in which he expresses admiration for Hitler, doubts Germany's repentance for the Holocaust, believes in global Jewish conspiracies, blames immigration for damaging Germany's racial purity, praises Russian President Vladimir Putin as a model, and calls for the destruction of the state. Military uniforms found in Franco A's "prepper" basement in Offenbach, Germany on July 9, 2020, reflect his private beliefs that he claims cannot be legally punished. While some of his views are extreme and align with those of neo-Nazis and far-right groups, his concerns about immigration and national identity are becoming more common in Germany, Europe, and the United States. In the generation that came of age after September 11, 2001, during the resulting wars and a global economic crisis, a distrust of government, far-right messaging, and conspiracy theories have not only infiltrated pockets of the security services but have also become more mainstream. Thomas Haldenwang, the president of the domestic intelligence agency, expressed concern in an interview that far-right extremist messages have moved into the middle of society. These ideas are even present in Parliament, where the far-right Alternative for Germany (AfD) is the leading opposition party. Haldenwang's agency is considering placing the entire AfD party under observation as early as January due to the perceived danger they pose, despite the party claiming to be defenders of the Constitution. The struggle for Germany's democracy is evident in the ongoing debate. In my interviews with Franco A., senior defense officials have shifted from dismissing my questions about extremist networks to expressing serious concern. In March 2019, a defense ministry official initially stated that only four far-right extremists had been identified in the military, which was surprising. Yes, there were four extremist networks identified. He mentioned that they couldn't see any networks. Up until this year, the German authorities had ignored the issue. Despite detailing his extreme views in a master's thesis, Franco A.'s superiors continued to promote him. He joined extremist networks that included many soldiers and police officers. He publicly spoke at a far-right event that caught the attention of security services, but it wasn't until a janitor at the Vienna airport discovered a gun hidden in a maintenance shaft that his plans were thwarted. The gun was a black, compact 7.65-caliber Unique 17, made by a French gunmaker between 1928 and 1944. The pistol became a popular choice among German officers in France during the Nazi occupation. In order to uncover who had concealed the weapon, the police devised an electronic trap. On February 3, 2017, they successfully apprehended Franco A. as he attempted to access the hidden pistol with the end of a hair gel tube. A group of police officers quickly surrounded the restroom door, armed and prepared. Two officers in plain clothes entered and questioned Franco A. about his actions. Franco A. remembered saying, "Yes, I concealed a weapon here," and stated that he had returned to retrieve it and hand it over to the police. He mentioned that someone started laughing when he made this statement. The account he gave to the Austrian police that evening during questioning was so unbelievable that he was reluctant to repeat it when we met, but eventually decided to do so. A picture of Franco A. was taken during a ceremony at the Saint-Cyr military academy in France, as well as at his home in Offenbach, Germany on July 9, 2020. This information was reported by The New York Times. 

In Vienna during ball season, Franco A. claimed he had been at the annual Officer's Ball two weeks earlier. He was barhopping with his girlfriend and fellow soldiers when he found a gun while using the bathroom in a bush. He put the gun in his coat pocket, but then remembered it when going through security at the airport. He concealed it in order to not miss his flight, but ultimately chose to go back and give it to the police. Franco A. was photographed at a ceremony at the Saint-Cyr military academy in France, and at his residence in Offenbach, Germany on July 9, 2020. He expressed feeling embarrassed about the situation and mentioned that he knows nobody believes him. Franco A. was released on that same evening. However, the officers confiscated his phone and a USB stick discovered in his backpack. They also obtained his fingerprints and sent them to German authorities for confirmation. When the results came back weeks later, the officers were surprised to discover that Franco had two identities. His identification indicated that he was a German officer stationed with the Franco-German brigade in Illkirch, near Strasbourg. However, the fingerprints found on the gun belonged to a migrant who was registered near Munich, causing concern among investigators. They questioned whether Franco A. had hidden the gun with the intent to carry out an attack in the future. He was apprehended on the evening of the annual fraternity ball, organized by Austria's far-right Freedom Party, where militant counterdemonstrators were common. One hypothesis was that Franco A. had intended to shoot someone that night while posing as a leftist. When the German authorities took charge of the investigation, they discovered two documents on his UBS stick: the "Mujahedeen Explosives Handbook" and "Total Resistance," a manual for urban guerrilla warfare from the Cold War era. Through his cellphone, they uncovered a vast network of far-right Telegram chat groups consisting of soldiers, police officers, and others preparing for what they called Day X, the collapse of the social order. Additionally, they found numerous audio memos in which Franco A. had documented his thoughts over several years. On April 26, 2017, during a military training exercise in a Bavarian forest, Franco A. was once again arrested, this time with ten federal police officers escorting him away. Ninety additional individuals were carrying out raids at the same time in Germany, Austria, and France. During these raids, the police uncovered over 1,000 rounds of ammunition, as well as numerous handwritten notes and a diary. As they delved into the contents of these writings, they learned about a man who had held radical beliefs since his teenage years. In interviews with Franco A., he shared details about his childhood and family background, which closely align with the history of Germany. Echoes of History Franco A purchased his first German flag when he was 12 or 13 years old, a small tabletop banner he bought during a family vacation in Bavaria. In most countries, this act would be insignificant, but in postwar Germany, where national pride was discouraged due to the country's Nazi history, it was seen as a rebellious gesture. Franco A explained that Germany has always held significance to him, as he showed us pictures of his childhood bedroom with the flag prominently displayed. Growing up in his working-class neighborhood, he did not see many German flags because the area was home to guest workers from southern Europe and Turkey who played a crucial role in rebuilding postwar Germany and reshaping its society. Franco A's mother, who lives above him, remembered that when she was in school in the 1960s, there were only a few children with migrant backgrounds in her class. By the time Franco A was in school, children with two German parents were actually in the minority. His own father, an Italian guest worker, left the family when he was very young, and Franco A refers to him simply as his "producer" rather than his father. In a January 2016 audio memo, Franco A described the guest worker program as a deliberate effort to weaken German ethnicity. He believed he was a product of this racist ideology and shared that his grandfather was born in 1919, the year the Treaty of Versailles was signed. This treaty, which marked Germany's defeat in World War I, fueled the "stab in the back" myth that Germany had actually won the war but was betrayed by leftists and Jews in power. This propaganda contributed to anti-democratic movements in the military that stockpiled weapons, planned coups, and ultimately supported the rise of Nazism, similar to the accusations Franco A faces today. He mentioned that his grandparents frequently looked after him, providing him with soup after school and sharing stories with him about the war. His grandfather would entertain him with tales of his experiences in the Hitler youth. The police took a copy of "Mein Kampf" that had belonged to him. He also mentioned that his grandmother, who was 20 at the time, fled with her sister from the Red Army's advance in present-day Poland. She recounted to the boy an incident where their wooden cart had broken down, leading them to take a break in a field near Dresden. That evening, she recounted how the sisters witnessed the destruction of the city by bombs, resulting in the death of up to 25,000 civilians and becoming a symbol of outrage for the extreme right. Years later, Franco A created a recording of a fictional conversation discussing the "bomb terror in Dresden" and questioning whether Jews should expect Germans to feel perpetual guilt. His educators encouraged him to question authority and think independently. Raised during the 1968 student movement, they aimed to pass on the liberal values that emerged from it - including a skepticism of nationalism and a sense of remorse for the war. None of the teachers I interviewed noticed any early signs of extremism in him, but rather remembered his challenging and curious nature affectionately. They were unaware that during that period he had become immersed in a vast realm of online conspiracy theories that would impact him for many years. These beliefs started to form in his teenage diary, with Franco A describing the entries as a way to explore ideas rather than as evidence of a firmly established ideology or any specific intentions. Within these musings were thoughts on how he could potentially alter the trajectory of German history, such as by becoming a soldier and rising to a position of influence within the military to eventually become the leader of the German armed forces. In 2008, during the financial crisis triggered by Lehman Brothers' collapse, Franco A joined the military at the age of 19. He was selected as one of the few German officer cadets to attend the esteemed Saint-Cyr military academy in France, established by Napoleon in 1802. During his five years abroad, he studied at Sciences Po in Paris, King's College London, Sandhurst, and the University of Cambridge. In 2013, he wrote a master's thesis titled "Political Change and Strategy of Subversion," where he argued that immigration and the influence of subversive minorities led to the downfall of civilizations. He warned that Europe and the West were at risk if they did not defend themselves. He also stated that ethnically diverse societies were unstable and allowing migration was a form of "genocide." He believed that the Old Testament was the basis for Jewish global dominance, calling it potentially the biggest conspiracy in history. The French military academy commander was shocked by these views and reported them to Franco A's German superiors. He mentioned that if a French participant had expressed similar views, they would have been removed from the course. The German military hired historian Jörg Echternkamp to evaluate the thesis, which he deemed as a "radical nationalist, racist appeal" combined with an element of insecurity due to globalization, making it socially dangerous. Despite this assessment, Franco A was not removed from service or reported to Germany's military counterintelligence agency. Instead, he was summoned to a branch office near Paris where an officer from the military's internal disciplinary unit informed him that his thesis was not in line with Germany's values. Franco A explained that he felt pressured to create something exceptional as the second best student in his class, leading him to become consumed in his own thoughts. After a lengthy interview, a senior officer concluded that Franco A had been overwhelmed by his own intellectual abilities. He was reprimanded and required to submit a new thesis. Upon his return to Germany in 2014, he resumed his duties as a model soldier. In November 2015, he received praise for his enthusiasm and effectiveness in handling ammunition. Franco A prominently displays "The Magic Eye" on his bookshelf, a book containing colorful images that transform into different ones when stared at for a long time. Like the book, Franco A presents himself as a peace-loving critical thinker who believes he has been unfairly targeted in a political environment that punishes dissent. However, records and interviews with investigators and those familiar with his case paint a different picture. Upon returning from France, Franco A. began associating with soldiers who shared his beliefs. They were actually easy to locate. A colleague and friend connected him with a national online chat group consisting of many soldiers and police officers worried about immigration. The group was established by a KSK officer named Hannibal, who also led an organization called Uniter, providing paramilitary training. Both the network and Uniter are now being monitored by the domestic intelligence agency. Franco A was present at a minimum of two Uniter meetings, and badges from the group were discovered in his possessions. According to police interviews, he was considered to be intelligent at the KSK base. A witness statement from a fellow soldier indicated that several soldiers were familiar with him. Many of the members in the chat were "preppers" who were expecting the potential collapse of Germany's social system. According to prosecutors, Franco A started hoarding food rations and supplies in a "prepper" cellar, and also began acquiring guns and ammunition illegally. This occurred during a time when Russia had invaded Ukraine, there was an increase in Islamist terrorism in Europe, and German Chancellor Merkel had welcomed hundreds of thousands of mostly Muslim asylum-seekers from conflict zones in the Middle East. Franco A remembered feeling the genuine threat of war or civil unrest within Germany. Prosecutors claim that it was at this moment he started considering resorting to violence. He believed that the government's fight against terrorism was actually a fight against him and his beliefs, as stated in the indictment. He also believed that in order to reveal the truth, it needed to be presented in a convincing way. To do so, he felt a "trigger event" was essential, and thus began looking for potential triggers or targets, according to prosecutors. He claims that it did not happen. However, at the conclusion of his Christmas break in 2015, just 10 days before starting his first assignment in the Franco-German brigade near Strasbourg, he pretended to be a refugee. While waiting for his initial interview as David Benjamin at the police station, Franco A, his refugee persona, considered whether Damascus or Aleppo would be a more believable birthplace as he studied a world map on the wall. As time passed, he fabricated an elaborate family history. After completing his military training in France, he became fluent in French. During interviews, he identified himself as a Syrian Christian with French heritage. He mentioned attending a French high school and working as a fruit farmer in Tel al-Hassel, a small village near Aleppo. Despite his efforts to be well-prepared, he found it unnecessary in the end. German authorities did not question his story, as they were overwhelmed at the time. Two days after going to the police station, he applied for asylum and was taken to temporary group shelters. He was eventually given a small residence in Baustarring, a Bavarian hamlet located 250 miles west of his army base. Franco A filmed numerous videos of the shelters on his cellphone camera, showing his doubt about the level of neediness of the asylum-seekers. He observed that many of the Syrians had fled from cities destroyed by conflict, and despite their difficult circumstances, they appeared more like tourists than refugees. He explained that he intentionally chose a low-quality phone so as not to draw attention with a high-quality one, but ended up with the worst option. He criticized the system for being overly generous and forgiving, as he continued to receive his monthly stipend despite turning down job offers. He only visited the shelter occasionally and missed appointments. Franco A believed that Merkel's government had contributed to a humanitarian crisis by participating in Middle Eastern wars. It felt as though he was witnessing a real-life example of the case study from his former mentor's discredited thesis. He expressed regret that millions of people had migrated from a region that he believed could have been prevented from destabilizing. During his asylum hearing, the Moroccan interpreter raised concerns about his Arabic proficiency but hesitated to question him due to his Jewish-sounding name, fearing she might be perceived as anti-Semitic as a Muslim. Franco A was eventually given "subsidiary protection," which permits asylum-seekers without identity papers to remain and work in Germany. Despite his refugee status, he became more well-known in far-right circles. Franco A claimed he participated in debates at bars and was asked to speak at events. He stated that on Dec 15, 2016, he spoke at the "Prussian Evening," a gathering organized by a publisher associated with Holocaust denial, held at Hotel Regent in Munich. His subject on that particular evening was "German conservatives - a minority in their own country." Over the course of the year, his voice messages became more urgent. In one message from January 2016, just three weeks after becoming a refugee, he mentioned that those who spoke out against the authorities were often killed. He urged action, not murder, in another message. He also expressed a belief that he would be murdered, but vowed to strike first. According to prosecutors, Franco A, who had been leading a double life for seven months, visited Berlin in the summer of 2016 and may have been a potential target. He went to a side street near the Jewish quarter to take four photos of car license plates in a private underground parking garage, according to reports. Investigators later found the images on his cellphone. The building where this occurred was home to the offices of the Amadeu Antonio Foundation, an organization led by Anetta Kahane, a well-known Jewish activist. Being the daughter of Holocaust survivors, Kahane has faced far-right hatred for many years. Prosecutors believe, based on confiscated notes, that Kahane, now 66, was one of several prominent figures targeted by Franco A. for their pro-refugee stances. Other individuals mentioned in the notes were Foreign Minister Heiko Maas, who was serving as justice minister at the time, and Claudia Roth, a Green lawmaker who held the position of Parliament's vice president. Kahane's name was mentioned multiple times in the notes, including at the end of a list of seemingly ordinary items and reminders. Franco A, who showed me the notes, claimed that it was just a regular to-do list. On one page, he detailed Kahane's background, age, and work address. He created a detailed map of her parking garage location and wrote a note stating they could not act as they wanted to. Prior to his trip to Berlin and afterwards, Franco purchased items for a handgun and a mounting rail for a telescopic sight. He was seen at a shooting range testing out these accessories with an assault rifle. Additionally, he traveled to Paris to meet with the head of a pro-Putin Russian think tank connected to France's far right and allegedly bought the French handgun found in Vienna. Prosecutors believe there is sufficient evidence to suggest that Franco A was planning a murder, although he denies all accusations. He denied that anything the prosecutors have said shows he intended to harm Kahane. During a long interview, he mentioned having pictures on his phone but said that doesn't prove he was present. Despite initially refusing to discuss the matter due to his upcoming trial, he eventually talked about it hypothetically. He claimed that if he had gone, it would have been for a conversation and that he would have discovered Kahane wasn't there after ringing the bell. He may have then visited the parking garage with the thought of gathering information about the car. He mentioned the possibility of finding the person he was looking for by some stroke of luck. He denied any plans to kill Kahane and argued that even if he had visited the garage, it would only be considered preparation for an assassination and not terrorism. He questioned how this could be a threat to the state, especially since Kahane is not a politician. I went to Kahane to get her opinion on the matter. When we first met, she had just received another threatening email from a neo-Nazi group, a common occurrence for her. The message detailed violent acts they planned to commit against her, including cutting a swastika into her face and leaving her to die. What frightened her even more than the threats was the lack of awareness and action from German authorities. She remembered the day the police informed her that they had apprehended a neo-Nazi soldier who intended to murder her. The conversation was about Franco A. and his two associates, with someone jokingly asking if all three of them had been caught. The speaker noted that people often underestimate the number of Nazis involved. The discussion turned to the German Constitution, specifically Article 20.4, which permits resistance in order to protect democracy, inspired by Hitler's 1933 actions. Far-right extremists, who criticize Merkel's government as anti-constitutional, favor the Constitution which holds a prominent position in Franco A's library. He frequently references it and expressed displeasure when I visited him before Christmas with transcripts of his voice recordings. I questioned him about certain statements he made, such as his belief that Hitler was "above everything." He explained that he meant it ironically and played a recording for me to prove it. The conversation had a casual and playful tone, with both voices laughing. However, the true intention behind the statement was not immediately clear. I also inquired about a different recording from January 2016. Franco A. stated that anyone who helps destroy the state is doing something positive, claiming that laws hold no value. It was unclear how he could make such a statement while also professing to defend the Constitution. After a lengthy silence, Franco A. reviewed his own words. He flipped through the notes of his attorney, but he was unable to find a solution. This material is copyright © 2020 The New York Times Company.