He introduced himself as a Syrian refugee, struggling with broken English. Claiming to have traveled half the continent on foot and lost his papers, officers took his photograph and fingerprints. In the following year, he would receive shelter, an asylum hearing, and monthly benefits. He went by the name David Benjamin. He was actually a lieutenant in the German army, but prosecutors claim he disguised himself as a refugee in a far-right plot to carry out assassinations and create civil unrest in Germany. The officer, known as Franco A in court documents, denies these allegations. He claims he was attempting to reveal weaknesses in the asylum process. However, his complex deception, spanning 16 months, was exposed when police apprehended him trying to retrieve a loaded gun hidden in a Vienna airport restroom. Aydan Ozoguz, a politician overseeing refugees and integration, described the arrest as a shocking moment, raising concerns about how someone like Franco A could serve as a soldier in Germany. The incident in April 2017 left Germany in disbelief. Since then, his case has largely faded from public attention, but that is expected to change when he goes to trial early next year. The trial will not only hold him accountable for pretending to be a refugee when he was a German officer who couldn't speak Arabic, but also Germany for its failure to address far-right extremism. The investigation into Franco A's case revealed a network of extremist groups within Germany's security services, a threat that authorities only recently realized was more widespread than they had previously understood. The New York Times reported on two groups in northern Germany, one led by a former soldier and police sniper and the other by a special forces soldier known as Hannibal. The first group hoarded weapons, kept enemy lists, and ordered body bags, while the second group focused on the KSK, Germany's elite force. Following the discovery of explosives and SS memorabilia on a sergeant major's property this summer, an entire KSK unit was disbanded. The author interviewed many members of these networks over the past year, including Franco A. However, Franco A.'s story of leading a double life and transitioning from a promising officer to a suspected terrorist reflects the complexities of modern Germany. One nation was shaped by its loss in World War II and upbringing in a liberal environment that discouraged nationalism and taught citizens to feel remorseful. This Germany is now transitioning into a more uncertain country as its history fades and a previously inactive far-right movement emerges in response to a more diverse population. The postwar consensus in Germany is now at risk. When I initially encountered Franco A over a year ago at a restaurant in Berlin, he arrived prepared with various documents including notes and excerpts from his police file. At that time, he appeared self-assured. A terrorism case against Franco A was dismissed by a Frankfurt court due to insufficient evidence. However, the Supreme Court reinstated the case upon prosecutors' appeal several months later. Franco A contacted me via phone, expressing his distress. If found guilty, he could potentially be sentenced to a maximum of 10 years in prison. Even though his trial was pending, he agreed to a series of exclusive recorded interviews and invited me and two New York Times audio producers to his childhood home, where he still resides, to discuss his life, his beliefs, and aspects of his case. I visited multiple times over the following year, most recently the week before Christmas. On occasion, he would show us videos of himself in refugee disguise. Once, he took us down a creaky stairwell, through a safe-like metal door, into his "prepper" cellar, where he had hidden ammunition and a copy of Hitler's "Mein Kampf" before they were seized by the police. Franco A denies being involved in any terrorist plot. He claims that he pretended to be a refugee in order to expose Chancellor Angela Merkel's decision to let over 1 million refugees into Germany, which he believed posed a threat to national security and identity. He argued that the system was too overloaded, allowing anyone to enter. He maintained that he was following the Constitution, not sabotaging it, and had no intention of committing violence. He later questioned why he would not have carried out violent acts if that was his intention. The prosecutors did not provide any official statements, but the accusations against Franco A. are detailed in the Supreme Court decision. They cite the loaded gun he concealed at the Vienna airport, an illegal assault rifle he allegedly possessed, and a visit to the parking garage of a suspected target. Furthermore, they mention the numerous voice memos and diaries he maintained over many years, which they have used as evidence in his prosecution. I have reviewed these transcripts in police reports and evidence files, in which he expresses admiration for Hitler, questions Germany's remorse for the Holocaust, discusses global Jewish conspiracies, argues against immigration for ethnic purity, praises Russian President Vladimir Putin as a role model, and promotes the destruction of the state. Military uniforms were found in Franco A's basement in Offenbach, Germany on July 9, 2020. Franco A, who is now 31, believes that his personal thoughts should not be subject to prosecution. While some of his extreme views may be shared by 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 aftermath of September 11, 2001, and in a time of global economic crisis, distrust of government, far-right messaging, and belief in conspiracy theories have not only infiltrated certain branches of the security services but have also spread into mainstream society, as noted by Thomas Haldenwang, the president of Germany's domestic intelligence agency. The far-right Alternative for Germany (AfD) has even gained a significant presence in Parliament, prompting concerns about their potential danger. Haldenwang's agency is considering placing the entire party under observation due to these concerns. This is the ongoing struggle for Germany's democracy. In the time that I have been interviewing Franco A., high-ranking defense officials have shifted from casually addressing my questions about extremist networks to openly expressing concern. In March 2019, I inquired with a defense ministry official about the number of far-right extremists identified in the military, to which he responded, "Four." Only four? Yes, there were four extremist networks. "We are not aware of any networks," he stated. Until recently, German authorities ignored the issue. Franco A. was even promoted by his superiors despite outlining his beliefs in a master's thesis. He joined extremist groups consisting of numerous soldiers and police officers. He made a public appearance at a far-right event that was monitored by security services, but it was a janitor at the Vienna airport who ultimately exposed him. The janitor discovered a unique black gun loaded with six bullets hidden in a maintenance shaft in a disabled restroom. The Austrian officers were unfamiliar with the gun, a 7.65-caliber Unique 17 made by a French gunmaker that no longer exists, manufactured sometime between 1928 and 1944. It was discovered that the pistol was favored by German officers during the Nazi occupation of France. To identify the person who had concealed it, the police established an electronic trap. On February 3, 2017, they apprehended Franco A. when he attempted to open a wall shaft door with a tube of hair gel. A group of police officers quickly surrounded him with their weapons drawn. Two officers in plain clothes entered and questioned him about his actions. "I admitted to hiding a weapon here," Franco A. remembered saying. He mentioned that he had returned to retrieve it and bring it to the police. "I remember someone laughing," he added. The account he provided to Austrian police during questioning that evening was so unbelievable that he was hesitant to repeat it when we spoke. However, ultimately he decided to share it. A photograph of Franco A. was taken at a ceremony at the Saint-Cyr military academy in France and at his home in Offenbach, Germany on July 9, 2020, as reported by The New York Times. He concealed it to ensure he wouldn't miss his flight, but ultimately chose to go back and give it to the police. A picture of Franco A. was taken at a ceremony at the Saint-Cyr military academy in France, as well as at his residence in Offenbach, Germany, on July 9, 2020. He admitted, "I feel foolish sharing this story. I know no one believes it." Franco A. was released later that evening. However, the officers confiscated his phone and a USB stick discovered in his backpack. They obtained his fingerprints and forwarded them to German authorities for confirmation. When the results returned several weeks later, the officers were surprised to discover that Franco had two identities. According to his ID, he was a German officer stationed with the Franco-German brigade in Illkirch, near Strasbourg. However, the fingerprints on the gun were linked to a migrant who was registered near Munich, causing concern among investigators. There was speculation about whether Franco A. had hidden the gun with the intention of using it for an attack later. He was apprehended on the night of the annual fraternity ball, organized by Austria's far-right Freedom Party, which typically drew militant counterdemonstrators. One hypothesis was that Franco A. had intended to shoot someone that evening while posing as a leftist. When German authorities took control of the investigation, they discovered two documents on his UBS stick: the "Mujahedeen Explosives Handbook" and "Total Resistance," a manual from the Cold War era on urban guerrilla warfare. Through his cellphone, they uncovered a vast network of far-right Telegram chat groups with soldiers, police officers, and others preparing for what they called Day X, the collapse of society. Additionally, his phone contained numerous audio recordings of Franco A.'s thoughts over several years. Franco A. was arrested on April 26, 2017, during a military training exercise in a Bavarian forest, with ten federal police officers escorting him away. Ninety additional raids were taking place simultaneously 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, 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 paralleled Germany's history. Echoes of History Franco A was 12 or 13 when he purchased his first German flag, a small tabletop banner he found in a souvenir shop during a family vacation in Bavaria. This act, which might have been harmless in another country, was seen as a small act of defiance in postwar Germany, where national pride was frowned upon due to the country's Nazi history. "Germany has always held significance for me," Franco A remarked as he displayed photos of his childhood bedroom, with the flag prominently displayed in the foreground. Growing up in his working-class neighborhood, Franco A did not see many German flags due to the presence of guest workers from southern Europe and Turkey who helped rebuild postwar Germany and contributed to transforming its society. Franco A's mother, who lives upstairs from him, remembers having only a few classmates with a migrant background when she was in school in the 1960s. By the time Franco A attended school, children with two German parents were the minority, as his own father, an Italian guest worker, had left the family when he was a toddler. Franco A refers to his father as his "producer" rather than his father. In a January 2016 audio memo, Franco A talked about the guest worker program as a deliberate attempt to weaken German ethnicity. He considered himself a result of this racial animosity. He mentioned that his grandfather was born in 1919, the year when the Treaty of Versailles was signed, marking Germany's defeat in World War I. The treaty led to the belief in the "stab in the back" legend, claiming that Germany was betrayed by leftists and Jews in the ruling class. This propaganda fueled anti-democratic movements in the military, leading to the rise of Nazism - similar to the accusations prosecutors are making against Franco A today. He mentioned that his grandparents frequently looked after him, providing him with soup and sharing stories about their experiences during the war. His grandfather would entertain him with tales of his time in the Hitler youth, and the police found a copy of "Mein Kampf" that belonged to him. His grandmother, who was 20 at the time, fled from the Red Army with her sister in what is currently Poland. She recounted a story to the boy about their wooden cart breaking down, leading them to take a break in a field near Dresden. That evening, the sisters witnessed the destruction of the city by bombs, resulting in the deaths of up to 25,000 civilians. This tragic event has since been adopted as a symbol of grievance by the far right. Years later, Franco A was seen enacting a fictional dialogue in which he questions whether Jews should forever expect Germans to feel guilty for the "bomb terror in Dresden." His educators encouraged him to question authority and think independently. They belonged to the 1968 student movement and aimed to pass on the liberal values that emerged from it, such as a skepticism towards nationalism and a sense of repentance for the war. None of the teachers I interviewed observed any early signs of extremism in him, but instead remembered his affection for challenging conventions and his curious nature. Unbeknownst to others, during that period he became immersed in a vast realm of online conspiracy theories that would have a lasting impact on him. These beliefs started to form in his private teenage diary, where Franco A described them as mere explorations of ideas rather than proof of a firmly held ideology or plan. Among his musings were thoughts on altering the trajectory of German history, such as becoming a soldier and rising to a prominent role in the military to ultimately lead the German armed forces. In 2008, during the financial crisis following Lehman Brothers' collapse, Franco A joined the army at the age of 19. He was selected as one of the few German officer cadets to attend the prestigious 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 dilution of racial purity by subversive minorities had led to the downfall of great civilizations. He warned that Europe and the West were at risk if they did not protect themselves. He argued that ethnically diverse societies were not stable and accused nations that allowed migration of committing a form of "genocide." In his final section, he suggested that the Old Testament was the basis for subversion, providing a plan for Jews to achieve global dominance, which he considered to be a major conspiracy. The French military academy commander was shocked by these views and reported them to Franco A's German superiors, stating that if a French participant had made similar statements, they would have been expelled from the course. The German military hired historian Jörg Echternkamp to evaluate the thesis, and he quickly determined it to be a "radical nationalist, racist appeal" with an underlying sense of insecurity due to globalization. Despite the dangerous nature of the thesis, Franco A was not removed from service or reported to Germany's military counterintelligence agency. Instead, he was summoned to a branch office in Fontainebleau, near Paris, where an officer from the military's internal disciplinary unit informed him that his thesis did not align with Germany's values. Franco A explained that he felt pressure to excel academically as the second-ranked student in his year, leading him to become consumed by his own ideas and lose perspective. After a lengthy interrogation, a senior officer determined that Franco A had been negatively impacted by his intelligence. He was reprimanded and required to submit a new thesis. Upon his return to Germany in 2014, he was praised as a model soldier. In 2015, he received a positive evaluation for his work with ammunition. "The Magic Eye" book is prominently featured on Franco A's bookshelf. This book contains colorful images that, when stared at for a while, reveal entirely different images. Franco A himself is likened to this book, as during interviews he portrayed himself as a peaceful critical thinker who had been unfairly targeted in a political climate that punished dissent. However, records and interviews with investigators and others familiar with his case painted a different picture. After returning from France, Franco A. aligned himself with soldiers who shared his views. It was easy to locate them in the end. A colleague and close friend connected him with a national online chat group consisting of many soldiers and police officers worried about immigration. The officer who established the network was a member of Germany's elite special forces, the KSK, stationed in Calw, and went by the alias Hannibal. Hannibal was also in charge of an organization known as Uniter, which provided paramilitary instruction. This group is now being monitored by the domestic intelligence agency. Franco A participated in at least two Uniter meetings and was found to have badges of the group in his possession. According to police interviews, he was regarded as intelligent at the KSK base. A witness statement indicated that several soldiers were familiar with him. The majority of chat members were preppers who were anticipating the potential collapse of Germany's social order. Franco A started to create a stockpile of food and supplies in a "prepper" cellar, as well as acquiring guns and ammunition illegally, according to prosecutors. This occurred as Russia invaded Ukraine and a period of Islamist terrorism began in Europe. Additionally, in August, Merkel accepted hundreds of thousands of mainly Muslim asylum-seekers from conflicts in Syria, Iraq, and Afghanistan. Franco A remembered feeling a genuine fear of war or civil unrest within Germany, leading him to consider violence, according to prosecutors. He believed that the state's fight against terrorism was actually a fight against him. In order to reveal the truth, he believed it needed to be carefully presented. To bring people to this truth, he felt a "trigger event" was essential, prompting him to search for potential targets. He refutes the claim. However, at the conclusion of his Christmas break in 2015, just 10 days prior to starting his initial assignment in the Franco-German brigade near Strasbourg, he assumed the identity of a refugee. While waiting at the police station for his first interview as David Benjamin, his refugee persona, Franco A examined a world map on the wall, contemplating whether Damascus or Aleppo would be a more believable birthplace. Eventually, he fabricated an elaborate family background. After completing his military training in France, he became fluent in French. During his interviews, he claimed to be a Syrian Christian with French heritage, mentioning that he had studied at a French high school and had worked as a fruit farmer in a small village near Aleppo. Despite his efforts to prepare himself, he found that it was unnecessary in the end. He stated that German authorities did not question his story, as they were overwhelmed at the time. Two days after presenting himself at the police station, he applied for asylum and was subsequently taken to temporary group shelters. He was eventually placed in a small residence in Baustarring, a Bavarian hamlet located 250 miles west of his army base. Franco A used his cellphone camera to film several videos of the shelters. He doubted the level of neediness of the asylum-seekers, especially the Syrians who had fled formerly middle-class lives in cities destroyed by conflict. He remarked that they appeared more like tourists than refugees. He explained that he chose to get a low-quality phone to avoid drawing attention with a better one, but ended up with the worst option. He criticized the system for being too lenient and forgiving, as he continued to receive financial support even when turning down job opportunities. 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 East conflicts. He felt like he was witnessing a real-life example of a situation described in his former advisor's thesis that had caused him disgrace. He believed that the region could have been kept stable and prevented millions of people from being displaced. During his asylum hearing, the Moroccan interpreter expressed concerns about his Arabic proficiency but hesitated to question him due to his Jewish-sounding name, fearing she might be perceived as anti-Semitic. Franco A was given "subsidiary protection," which permits asylum-seekers without identification documents to remain and work in Germany. Simultaneously, his standing within far-right groups expanded, with Franco A claiming he participated in debates at bars and was eventually asked to speak at events. Specifically, on Dec 15, 2016, he spoke at the "Prussian Evening" held at Hotel Regent in Munich, organized by a publisher associated with Holocaust denial. The topic of his presentation that evening was "German conservatives - a diaspora in their own country." His voice memos became more urgent over the course of the year, with one in January 2016 mentioning that those who spoke out against the government were often killed. He expressed a sense of paranoia and fear, stating "Let's not hesitate, not to murder but to kill," and "I know you will murder me. I will murder you first." Prosecutors claim that Franco A had been leading a double life for almost seven months when he traveled to Berlin in the summer of 2016. He went to a side street near the Jewish quarter to capture four photos of car license plates in a private underground parking garage, according to sources. The investigators later obtained the images from his cellphone. The building was where the Amadeu Antonio Foundation, led by Anetta Kahane, a well-known Jewish activist, had its offices. Kahane, who is the daughter of Holocaust survivors, has been the subject of far-right animosity for many years. Prosecutors suspect, based on confiscated notes, that Kahane, now 66, was among several prominent figures targeted by Franco A. for their pro-refugee stances. Other individuals mentioned in the notes were Foreign Minister Heiko Maas, who served as justice minister at the time, and Claudia Roth, a Green lawmaker who held the position of Parliament's vice president. The name Kahane was written at least two times in the notes, once at the end of a list of seemingly ordinary items and also in a reminder to contact the bank where his refugee alter ego had an account. Franco A, who showed the notes to me, described them as a typical to-do list. On one page, he included information about Kahane's background, age, and work address. He made a detailed map of her parking garage location and wrote a message indicating they were not yet able to act. Leading up to his trip to Berlin and in the days following, Franco purchased items for a handgun and a mounting rail for a telescopic sight. He was also seen at a shooting range testing out accessories with an assault rifle. During a trip to Paris, he met with the head of a pro-Putin Russian think tank with ties to France's far right and is believed to have purchased the French handgun found in Vienna. Prosecutors allege Franco A was preparing for a killing, but he denies all accusations. He stated that the prosecutors' claims do not show any intention to harm Kahane. During a lengthy interview, he mentioned having pictures on his phone but pointed out that it doesn't prove his presence at the scene. Despite citing his upcoming trial, he eventually discussed the matter in hypothetical terms. He mentioned that if he had gone, it would have been for a conversation. He added that he would have rung the bell but discovered that Kahane was not present. He could have gone to the parking garage with the intention of finding out information about the car. He mentioned the possibility of finding the person through luck. He denied any plans to kill Kahane, stating that even if he had visited the garage, it would only be in preparation for an assassination, not an act of terrorism. He questioned how this could be a threat to the state since Kahane was not a politician. When we first met, she had just received yet another threatening email from a neo-Nazi. This was a common occurrence for her. The message threatened to physically harm her, but what frightened her more was the lack of awareness from German authorities. She vividly remembered the day the police informed her that they had apprehended a neo-Nazi who intended to harm her. They were talking about Franco A. and two of his companions. She had jokingly asked, "So you caught all three of them?" She remarked that people always underestimate the number of Nazis involved. The German Constitution includes Article 20.4, which permits resistance in situations where democracy is threatened, inspired by Hitler's 1933 enabling act that abolished democracy after his election. Far-right extremists who criticize Merkel's government as unconstitutional find favor in the Constitution, which holds a prominent position in Franco A's library. He frequently references it and was unhappy when I visited him before Christmas and revealed I had transcripts of his voice memos. I questioned him about some of his previous statements, such as his claim that Hitler was "above everything." He explained that he meant it ironically and played the recording for me, which had a casual and banter-like tone with two voices chuckling. However, it was not clear that it was all meant as a joke. I also inquired about another recording from January 2016. Franco A. stated that anyone who helps destroy the state is doing something positive, claiming that laws are meaningless. This statement raised questions about how he could defend the Constitution while holding such beliefs. After a moment of silence, Franco A. examined his own words. He looked through the notes of his attorney, but he could not find a response. This material is copyright © 2020 The New York Times Company.