Martin Weber

It’s a cold morning in Rostock, Germany, like so many others. I pull on my jacket, heading out for my usual walk. Nine years out of prison, but every day feels like I’m still making up for what I did.

Back in the '90s, I was a violent skinhead. A Vietnamese man died because of me. I beat him so badly he slipped into a coma and never woke up. Fifteen years inside gave me plenty of time to think about that. I used to blame foreigners for everything wrong in my life, but really, I was just angry at the world—and too weak to break away from that toxic group I called friends. We were always drunk, always looking for someone to take out our frustrations on.

Prison changed me. Without my so-called "friends" around, I had to confront what I’d done. I got help, saw therapists, and started to understand the depths of my hate and ignorance. Now, at 48, I deeply regret that past. I’ve spent years reading about history, politics, and how easily hate spreads.

It’s frightening to see right-wing extremism becoming popular again in Germany. Back in the day, there wasn’t social media pumping out garbage 24/7. Now, young people are flooded with it. The dangerous thing is that these views are becoming normalized, just like they were when I was growing up—never questioned, just accepted.

Some people say they can’t speak freely anymore. I think that’s nonsense. We’ve never had more freedom to express ourselves, but that also means being ready for pushback. If right-wing extremists ever got their way, that freedom would disappear, replaced by violence and chaos.

I walk these streets now and think about how different things could’ve been. But I can’t change the past. All I can do is try to be better, and never forget the damage I caused.