Hubert Aiwanger doesn’t want to put the matter in order.
He doesn’t want to say why, as a 17-year-old, he carried leaflets around with him that mocked the memory of the victims of the National Socialist extermination camps and attacked the German way of coming to terms with the past. He doesn’t want to remember if he gave them out. Or, on the contrary, collected.
He doesn’t see the victims. He sees himself as a victim. That alone is startling.
Even worse: