Rule of law lite: Prosecution according to hierarchy

One almost feels nostalgic these days: Where are all the public prosecutors? Those heroic defenders of the rule of law, who, according to the textbook, are independent, courageous, and bound only by the law. Probably busy right now. Investigating CumEx. Or scrutinizing the RKI, PEI, Pfizer, the Ethics Council, the Ministry of Health. Or the Jeffrey Epstein case. Or some other global network with a political agenda. Oh right. Nothing's happening.

Instead, we are witnessing a peculiar spectacle in the public consciousness. People are suddenly apologizing to formerly ostracized figures like Xavier Naidoo. Journalists from Axel Springer appear publicly irritated. Government documents are surfacing—files that can no longer be so easily categorized as "far-fetched theories." A minor systemic flaw: when the official line suddenly confirms what has been dismissed as mere fantasy for years, the moral comfort zone begins to feel strained.

And yet, the real punchline never comes. No handcuffs. No dawn raids. No cameras outside villa gates. Instead, public shaming as a substitute action. People publish. They discuss. They express outrage. And then? Onward.

The rule of law, in this context, acts like a well-lit facade: transparent, principled, and equal before the law – as long as things don't go too far. Because when the super-rich and politically connected individuals enter the picture, criminal consequences surprisingly often transform into a sociological debate format.

Child abuse, abuse of power, systemic corruption – all officially documented, commented on, archived. And yet the crucial act is missing: enforcement. Without arrests, without convictions, without tangible sanctions, education devolves into a constant barrage of pedagogical information. They demonstrate what is possible – and simultaneously prove that it remains without consequence.

The message is devastating: those who are truly at the top are apparently above the law. Everyone else faces fines, account freezes, and moral lectures. The elite are relegated to discussion panels.

Of course, one can explain this as a complex mix of factors: international jurisdictions, evidence, political sensitivities. But at some point, the explanation itself becomes an excuse. The rule of law doesn't live on press releases, but on judgments, consequences, and equality before the law.

As long as this equality operates selectively, the publication of files remains a paradoxical ritual. One reveals—and simultaneously disempowers oneself. One informs—and implicitly confirms that certain circles are apparently untouchable.

This is the real double standard: a vocal defense of values ​​towards those below, discreet reticence towards those above. And so the big question remains less what will come to light – but why the light apparently doesn't generate any heat.

A state governed by the rule of law without consequences is no bulwark. It is merely a backdrop…