All language subtitles for Erfundene.Wahrheit.-.Die.Relotius-Affare.2023.1080p.WEBRip.x264.AAC5.1-[YTS.MX]

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(CRICKETS BUZZ)

(SOFT MUSIC)

"On a night

when thousands of people march
northwards

through the Mexican Highlands,

with good or bad intentions,

200 kilometres away in Arizona,

six men in uniform stand on
a mountain

that separates the Mexican desert
from the United States...

..waiting for the invasion.

They carry ammunition belts

automatic rifles, bulletproof vests,

and made-up names.

A man peers down into
the Altar Valley

through his night vision goggles.

He's not sure what's down there.

Is it an animal or a person?

The hunter squints into
the darkness.

His rifle rests on his shoulder.

(GUN COCKS)

Eventually...

..he pulls the trigger."

(GUNSHOT)

(SPEAKING GERMAN)

(LOW, TENSE MUSIC)

NEWS: Relotius committed
journalistic fraud on a grand scale.

(WOMAN SPEAKING GERMAN)

(SPEAKING GERMAN)

(LIGHT, TENSE MUSIC)

(WATER DRIPPING)

"It was a Wednesday morning.

Cleaning day in jail.

The inmates from cell block G4,

all of them rapists and murderers,
were next in line.

The old man was frightened of
the water.

He backed away from it,

moaning, sobbing,
and crying for help.

The only one to react
was Praetorius.

He simply began to sing.

Quietly at first.

Then louder and louder.

Bye-bye, love,
Bye-bye, happiness."

"Praetorius, the convicted killer,

seemed for a moment
to embody both figures:

that of a father
familiarising his son with water,

and that of a mother singing to her
little child

to make him stop crying."

(LIGHT, TENSE MUSIC)

"SAY WHAT IS."- RUDOLF AUGSTEIN

CNN Journalist of the Year 2014 -
Claas Relotius.

(APPLAUSE)

(AUDIENCE CHUCKLES)

(LIGHT APPLAUSE)

NEWS:

One of the country's best-known
journalists

has admitted to, literally,
making up stories.

(LOW, TENSE MUSIC)

(SOMBRE PIANO MUSIC)

"One evening in late January,

a small, delicate woman leaves
her house

to watch a man she does not know
die.

America's citadel of executions

stands smack in the middle
of the city,

located next to a donut shop and
housing estates where children play.

Gayle Gladys slowly approaches
the prison wall.

Snipers sit in the watchtowers.

The hands on the clock above
the entrance

stopped moving decades ago."

(MUSIC FADES, ENDS)

"The room in which the state of
Texas kills its convicts

is about 3.6 metres long
and 2.8 metres wide.

Anthony Shores takes just nine or
ten steps

to enter the execution chamber.

Mere seconds pass

before Gayle Gladys sees
a clear liquid flow through the tube

and into Shores' veins.

She leaves the compound
and goes on a long walk.

At some point,
she reaches a wide, sloping hill

covered with hundreds of
gravestones and crosses.

Gladys walks across
the grass-covered graves.

Slowly, she passes row after row.

The oldest stones
have sunk into the ground.

The names engraved on them
barely legible."

QUOTE: A child filled with hatred
or with fear?

"Hundreds of worshippers flocked
to the blue mosque

next to the market square.

Four minutes before Nadim,
a child with reddened eyes,

pulled the trigger on his vest
and blew himself up

with 9.5 kilogrammes of explosives,

the muezzin of Kirkuk
called for the evening prayer.

The brothers, Nadim and Kalib,
came to murder

as cold-blooded killers,
fighters of the caliphate,

whom Islamic State had kidnapped and
groomed to become suicide attackers.

One of them, Nadim, the younger one,
can still recount this story.

Only he survived."

"The maximum security prison of
the autonomous region of Kurdistan

is an imposing fortress

built to hold 3000 prisoners
in the middle of the desert.

More than 150 men sit in its cells.

Terrorists, mass murderers.

And since 30 days...

a child."

(CALL TO PRAYER ECHOES ACROSS CITY)

(HUMS TO SELF)

(SPEAKS IN ARABIC)

(SPEAKING GERMAN)

(LOW CHATTER ON VIDEO)

(LOW, SOMBRE MUSIC)

(SPOKEN VIA GERMAN TRANSLATOR)

"The bus from Fergus Falls
heads north from Minneapolis.

It rolls towards a dark forest

that looks like it could be
a home to dragons.

At the entrance to the village
stands a sign:

'Welcome to Fergus Falls,
home of damn good folks.'

About halfway up the sign,
but impossible to miss,

large painted letters read:

'Mexicans keep out!'"

(LOW, SOMBRE MUSIC)

"Early on Friday morning,

eight men wearing baseball caps
sit here.

They're workmen or farmers.

At some point that morning,

they talk about camel drivers
and bean eaters.

One of the men says:

'We need to know who's coming here,
and who we'll be dealing with.'

Another one:

'We have to protect ourselves
from terrorists and drugs.'"

(BOUNCY CLASSICAL PIANO)

What do you think of that?
Do you wanna play?

(PIANO CONTINUES)

My name is Michele Anderson

and I live in Fergus Falls,
Minnesota.

It's a really connected town.

With 14,000 people,

it's small enough to feel like
people care about you.

(PIANO ENDS)

My name is Jake Krohn,
I'm a technology consultant,

and I live in Fergus Falls,
Minnesota.

It's my home, it's where I live,

it's where my kids are going
to school

and where I'm raising a family.

Nothing I do in my daily job
has anything to do with journalism.

I'm not a journalist.

The first time I heard that a
journalist was here from der Spiegel

was actually at a concert
at our downtown community theatre,

and a friend of mine asked me,

"Did you hear that this journalist
was in town?

You really should talk to him.
He's really interesting.

It sounds really exciting,
what he's working on."

I have this imagine of him
and it's very distinct in my mind

of his back to the entire gathering.

There were probably 50-60 people
there

that had interesting stories and
interesting perspectives.

But his back was to us all and he
was just photographing

the American flag.

"The inhabitants of Fergus
Falls stick together.

After some time, many of them
invite me to their homes for dinner.

They'll often ask me
about Germany and Europe.

Whether travelling there is
still safe.

'How many millions of refugees
live there now?'

'How will we protect ourselves
from attacks?'

These people are not racists,

but they're afraid of everything
they're not familiar with."

A friend of mine sent it to me
when it was published.

I kind of scrolled through it.

It was in German
and it was very long.

I spent some time running it through
a really rough Google translate

and we immediately noticed
that it was just wrong.

Michele's original message
to us on April 1st, 2017:

"WTF?!

If you can read this
translation of the article

about Fergus Falls in der Spiegel.

We need to discuss this article ASAP
and fact-check the fuck out of it."

(LOW, SOMBRE MUSIC)

He came up with something that read
really well,

but it didn't accurately portray
what life is like in a small town.

He made it into a movie.

A simple story
that people could understand

and wrap their heads around

and probably reinforce
existing beliefs.

The truth is always
more complicated and nuanced.

You knew the people, the principal
characters, involved in the story,

but hearing these stories that
Relotius wrote about these people

not really, just, connecting.

Like, do I even really know these
people? Who are these people?

You were Neil Becker, you were
a 57-year-old coal shoveler.

A coal shoveler at the power plant.

There wasn't-
No people shovelling any coal.

So that was a pretty interesting
part of the story.

And that part about my hands
being painted black all the time.

It gives the readers an image of...
..a working man.

Right.

I grew up close to the power plant,
but I never touched a piece of coal.

Looking at your hands,
I don't see any coal dust on them.

And here's what it says:

"Neil Becker is beating
his black hand on the table.

The sign on the edge of town
with the warning to Mexicans

stood in Fergus Falls
for only one day.

Then, Becker threw it in his jeep,

took it to the garage and hacked it
up into bits with an axe."

There would never be a sign on
the edge of this town

for anybody to stay out.

We welcome people in this town.

The way it's depicted,
with my black hands

and me chopping down the-

it's not the old Wild Wild West
over here.

So I just always wondered how
the magazine

let this story be published.

I knew this was big.

How can a journalist spend three
weeks in a community

and get away with
such a false portrayal?

So there was, in my head,
a sense of urgency, you know,

to get moving on
some kind of a response.

Truth is important. Truth about
your own community is important.

When it hits so personally, and it's
this town where you're raising kids.

You're working,
you're making a living here,

you're trying to make a change.

It's not his story to tell,
you know.

(LOW, TENSE MUSIC)

(SPEAKING GERMAN)

(SOMBRE STRING MUSIC)

"In Daraa, a young man by
the name of Mouawiya Syasneh

turns on the camera on his
mobile phone.

'Yallah, follow me. Let me show you
where it all started.

He holds his mobile phone up into
the air as he walks and ducks

- bullets could hit him
from anywhere -

through abandoned neighbourhoods.

He films the last streets
that still separate Assad's troops

from him
and the few remaining rebels.

After a few hundred steps,

Mouawiya crouches in the dust
in front of an old, ruined wall.

'This was the wall', Mouawiya says,

on which he spray-painted Arabic
letters seven years ago.

They're no longer recognisable.

Where they once stood, today
only bullet holes can be seen."

(LIGHT, TENSE MUSIC)

I was born in Aleppo.

I moved to Germany in 2015
due to the war.

Claas showed me who he was
through his actions.

He was a very polite,
a very nice person.

But his behaviour were all
on the totally opposite side.

I started working for Spiegel
in 2017.

Claas had this really great idea
that I was really interested in

about how the Syrian revolution
started

from a group of
13/14 years olds students

in the city of Daraa.

Where they wrote on the wall of
a school: "You're next, Doctor!".

By "Doctor",
they meant Bashar al-Assad.

Me and Claas did the research
and interviewed a few people

until we found the person
who wrote the sentence.

I spoke with him on the phone
a few times.

After a whole year of doing research
and finding the right person,

and finding the connections

and also finding the documents
from Syria,

and that was the part where Claas
stopped contacting me

and did the rest on his own.

(LIGHT TENSE MUSIC)

(GUNSHOT)

(LOW, TENSE MUSIC)

I put it this way.
Your friends when they come see you,

they come to your front door.

They don't wait until you're not
home and come around the back

and climb through your back window.

This is our back window,
down here.

We're getting a quarter of a million
people a month crossing the border.

They don't wanna stop it.

Nobody cares.

Except for me. I care.

What I do, I feel it's
the right thing to do.

I expose what's going on
and stop what's coming in.

I'll keep going.

I've told myself there's only
two ways I'll leave this place.

One: if I feel it's secure,

or two: if I'm dead.

The first one doesn't look like
it's gonna happen.

Looks like I'll be here
for a while longer.

Here's what I get to look at
every night.

The big one back there is called
the Baba Kaveri.

In that Native tongue,

Baba Kaveri means "Eagle's beak".

So that's the Eagle's Beak.

Tim, I got two for ya here.
Nice. Thank you.

Have a good one!
Yes, sir.

You'll be back in the next
couple of days. I got more coming.

Thank you.
Have a good one!

This is a concealed carry-on.

It's tough to conceal,
because I'm so thin.

But basically, you can't really tell
I'm carrying a handgun.

Ready to go.

(LOW, TENSE MUSIC)

This is the only way in.

Yeah, this is Foley,
down in Arivaca.

I'm at the west end of the fence
by California Gulch.

There's a four-door, silver SUV
parked at the very end of the fence.

They keep walking around the fence.

This is no man's land.

That's where all the bad guys are.

I've been out here for so long that

I can walk the mountains
in the dark.

But so can they.

If they're nice,
they'll just shoot you.

If they're not nice,
they'll take you back into Mexico

and make a video
of them chopping your head off.

If we do ever get in a firefight,

save the last round
in your pistol for yourself.

So this is our border.

This is what they call
"safe and secure".

We've got fentanyl
coming through here, crystal meth,

Middle Eastern terrorists,

we're getting gang bangers,

the cartels,

rapists, murderers.
Everybody comes through here.

It's a joke, is what it is,
for a border.

(SPEAKING GERMAN)

(LIGHT SOMBRE MUSIC)

Juan got a hold of me by phone
and he explained that he was-

At first I didn't wanna meet him.

Because he says, "Hey, we're here
in Tucson

and we need to talk to you."

I was like, "You know what,
it's already 6 o'clock at night."

And he goes, "No, you need to hear
what we have to say."

So he got down here at about
8 or 9 o'clock at night,

and they left here at about 11.

Because I listened to him and
he said, "We need to sit and talk.

You need to hear this."

Do you know this guy?
He was here four weeks ago.

I don't think he's been here.
Four weeks ago?

Please tell me
that you talked to this guy.

I don't remember him.

He was here the day, indeed-

According to the article, he was
here the day after the mid-terms.

I think the mid-terms were on
the 6th.

Right, so that would've been...

The night from the 7th to the 8th.

Or the 6th to the 7th.

You spent the night with him
on the mountain.

(LAUGHS) No.

He spent several nights
with you in the mountains.No.

Because the last time
I was in the mountains was...

The last time I was in the mountains
was two weeks ago.

And the time before that was...

Was with the guys.

In June.

So no, he never spent any time out
in the mountains with us.

And to be honest,
I don't think I've ever seen him.

Look-Because most journalists,
when we leave,

I will give them one of my cards
and they give me one of their cards.

You don't have a card?
Who is he with?

A German magazine called
der Spiegel.

I've heard of der Spiegel, but no-
Oh, this is the guy who...

Now I know who he is.
Who never showed up.

Show him the article.
What he thinks about, in general-

Nobody can come out with anything-
Here I'll show you.

I'm going to take the...

Juan Moreno, that's me.

Claas Relotius, that's his name.
Right.

And if this is a fake article,
this is not correct,

that's my fucking name.

You're gonna get dragged down.
I'll get the blame for it.

"...let three women from Mexico
carrying backpacks full of cocaine

on their shoulders freeze in
the mountains for two nights

before handing them to
border guards."

Oh, my God.

Not true?

It's fucking hilarious.

This guy probably sat in a hotel
room eating LSD or something.

I don't know what the hell
he was smoking,

but he definitely wasn't with us.

Where does he come up with
this shit?

"We protect our land.
We do not kill anyone."

But later on you say he says:
"And the trigger was pulled."

You don't shoot actually when you
don't know what you're aiming at?

When something is moving,
you don't...

Could be a border patrol agent.

No, we have strict rules on...

You cannot- Besides, if that's
the way you operate a weapon,

you're not allowed around us.

Imagine a twig snapped
and I pull my gun.

"Oops, it was my wife."

And your bosses actually bought
this fucking line of shit?

Wow.

And they fired you?

Are you gonna show this to them?

I'm not sure.

Because whoever fired him;
that's a fucking journalist.

The fucking piece of shit
who wrote this is a storyteller.

And you should be fired
for not knowing the difference.

Like I said,

we will be getting a lawyer and
we will be coming after your ass.

Cause this is just blatant fucking
horseshit. And I'm not even done!

And there's still another
fucking page to go!

I can unequivocally,
one hundred percent, tell you

that not one word in this is real.

It's all fabricated.

Every damn last sentence.

(SPEAKING GERMAN)

(SOMBRE MUSIC)

Claas got nominated and he won
the prize for this story itself,

without even telling me
that the story was nominated.

(APPLAUSE)

When I confronted Claas
and telling him why this happened,

I don't feel that I was
credited enough

for my whole year of work with him

he played the role of saying that,

"You know, Asia, we journalists
write about tragedies,

and at the end we win prizes and win
all the credit for these people

while they receive nothing."
You know.

He tried to play the victim
and tried to make me feel bad

for asking for something
that was actually my right.

For me it was a matter of
my existence as well.

It's part of my identity.

(SOMBRE MUSIC)

(LOW, TENSE MUSIC)

I was angry and disappointed.

Now this story is now considered
a fake story.

The lies all rely on fact or his
part where he explains

how he went to Jordan,

how he met this person,
how he communicated with him,

and about the biography of
this person.

To this day,

we don't know if this person really
shared this information.

Claas didn't just do it against me.

He did it against the whole-

This very sensitive political
narrative in Syria,

how the revolution started.
That's all gone now.

(SOMBRE MUSIC)

I looked at this headline:
'Claas Relotius resigns.'

I'm reading it in fast forward.

Everything from there is just
a blur.

I texted Jake:

"We need to get that article up
right now."

We picked out 11 points.

We sat back in my office
and pulled up the article.

I quick made a "Medium" account
and posted it.

Then all of a sudden we're getting
messages and phone calls

and e-mails.

Twitter was blowing up.

The Medium article was getting
thousands of reads a minute.

But it wasn't until the next morning

that we really understood
the impact.

I woke up at 4 or 5 in the morning

and I had messages from the BBC,
NPR,

New York Times,
German public media,

Huffington Post,
a lot of smaller outlets too.

There was a lot of adrenaline.

I wanted us to be
accurately portrayed.

And I wanted to have a part in that,

you know, in that work to help
set the record straight,

(SOMBRE PIANO MUSIC)

(MUSIC CONTINUES)

(TENSE MUSIC)

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