By Sabine BEPPLER-SPAHL

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There is a direct link between our establishment’s struggle against social media and ‘fake news’ and the growing perception of politicians as dishonest.

As a critic of Germany’s 19th-century censorship regime warned in 1901, “Police meddling with art are like bulls in a china shop.”

A modern version, following last week’s shocking statements by Daniel Günther (CDU), Minister President of Schleswig-Holstein, might read: “Politicians meddling with press freedom are like sparks in a powder keg.”

Exposing his censorious instincts during a talk show, Günther indicated he would like to see alternative news platforms banned. It began with him ranting for minutes about the influence social media now has on politics. Mentioning specifically the pro-populist news portal Nius, he spoke of “enemies of democracy.” Articles by Nius, he claimed, were “completely devoid of facts,” adding that “as a rule, nothing in the articles concerning me is true.” When the presenter asked whether these portals should be “regulated, censored, and in extreme cases even banned,” he replied, “Yes.”

Günther’s comments were so inflammatory that even many in the mainstream felt embarrassed. He is a well-meaning man who wanted to do the right thing but expressed himself clumsily, they claim. Those on the other side disagree: He’s a dangerous authoritarian who shouldn’t be in a position of responsibility—”an arsonist dressed up as a respectable citizen who has declared war on press freedom,” argues lawyer Joachim Steinhöfel, who has filed a lawsuit against him. Since the next election in his state isn’t due until 2027, it will be a while before Günther’s voters get a final say.

Naturally, he sees the well-deserved backlash against him as vindication of his statement about social media. Yet the outcry shows that the times are over when politicians, following the arrogance of power, could believe they’d get away with playing themselves up as arbiters of truth and guardians of democracy (“our democracy,” as they like to call it). Thank goodness for social media, we should add.

Germany’s censorship problem runs deep

The problem, however, is that Günther’s statements, extreme as they were, are hardly exceptional. Germany is already deeply entrenched in state censorship and attacks on free speech.

Since 2021, it has had a particularly nasty and repressive lèse-majesté law: German Penal Code (StGB) Article 188 targets defamation (üble Nachrede) or insults (Beleidigung) against “persons in the political life of the people” (politicians and state officials) when done publicly or in media. It has led to thousands of citizens being dragged to court and even sentenced for alleged insults. Günther’s delusion that his rants and complaints about disrespectful media would be well-received is surely a result of the logic this law creates.

The trouble for our self-pitying political class, however, is that the more thin-skinned and censorship-prone they become, the more their authority—or what little remains of it—melts away. Put otherwise: the louder the complaints about “insults,” “lies,” or “falsities,” the more persistent and widespread the feeling that our politicians are not to be trusted and not up to their job.

The Enlightenment knew better

It was during the Enlightenment that the futility of censorship was highlighted by those fighting against it. “One can be sure no book or publication will entice more readers than when the press announces it has been banned, and that those who purchase it will be heavily fined; for one immediately suspects that it must speak the truth, otherwise they wouldn’t confiscate it,” noted a German brochure written in 1775.

Tellingly, one of the worries of those defending Günther is that many more people will now want to know what Nius says and writes. With his “misunderstandable” statements—as the head of one of Germany’s state broadcasters, Andreas Schmidt (NDR), likes to call them—Günther did Nius a big favor: “He provided grounds for a legal dispute and made the right-wing portal even better known than it already was,” Schmidt writes.

And indeed, people should be interested in what Nius and other government-critical outlets have to say—if only because the self-assessments by our politicians are often wrong. Ironically, the penchant to censor has put the age-old question of what is truth, and who holds the key to truth, back on the political agenda.

Who defines democracy?

Consider the accusation that Günther poses a threat to democracy—an accusation that he would undoubtedly dismiss as one of the many untrue things said about him on social media. If it were really wrong, Günther would correct himself in a credible way in an attempt to win back the trust he lost by exposing his censorious instincts. Instead, he continues to sulk and insult his critics, thereby confirming their views.

The self-defeating irony of censorship was revealed in another famous case last April. David Bendels, the editor-in-chief of the AfD-affiliated Deutschland Kurier, received a seven-month suspended prison sentence for sharing a satirical meme showing then-Interior Minister Nancy Faeser holding a sign that read “I hate freedom of speech.” The image was fabricated and, according to many, an especially nasty piece of “fake news.” However, by enforcing the sentence, the true essence of the meme was highlighted even more. As Turkish-German journalist Deniz Yücel—a man who was imprisoned in Turkey for speech crimes—aptly noted, by failing to condemn this verdict, Faeser effectively confirmed that she hates free expression. Only this week, a German court acquitted Bendels, ruling that the photomontage fell under the category of protected freedom of expression.

A pattern of dishonesty

There is a direct link between our establishment’s struggle against social media and fake news and the growing perception of politicians as dishonest. For example, when it emerged in December that Chancellor Merz had filed hundreds of complaints for insult under §188 prior to being elected, this only reinforced the perception of him as a two-faced politician. Was this the same Merz who had, at least apparently, criticized his predecessors for their thin-skinned persecution of citizens?

Other examples include when Berlin’s mayor, Kai Wegner, was exposed for lying just hours after one of his government spokespersons had urged the public not to trust social media and to rely only on government reports. This appeal came amid discontent with the government’s handling of the crisis during last week’s horrendous blackout in Berlin. When asked why he had taken so long to appear in public, the mayor said he had been coordinating emergency measures in his office all day. However, it later emerged that he had actually been playing tennis. The incompetence and the lie itself were bad enough, but this arrogant and ill-advised attempt by the government to present itself as the only authoritative source of information infuriated many Berliners even more.

As is prone to happen in such situations, there was certainly overheated speculation and questionable content on social media. However, the notion that our embattled political class can and should protect us from falsehoods and fake news is absurd and dangerous.

The real source of distrust

“It’s not the media who are responsible for the lack of trust, but it’s the fault of our politicians who have not earned the trust of the people,” said journalist Henryk Broder, and he’s right.

Nius can pride itself on being in good company. In the late 19th century, the highly influential German weekly Simplicissimus—known for its biting social and political critique and iconic red bulldog logo—was also threatened with a ban. The paper had published a brilliant poem by the famous Frank Wedekind mocking the Kaiser’s trip to the Holy Land. Arrest warrants were issued against the publisher, the cartoonist, and the poet himself (who spent six months in prison).

Many had hoped that those days were long over, but it has become more important than ever to speak truth to power. It’s good that there’s been such outrage against Günther. We must keep up the pressure to defend social media and the free press, even though our authoritarian elites would prefer to see them disappear today rather than tomorrow.

Original article:  The European Conservative