Chapter 31: The Markus Lanz Interview - Martyr or Murderer: Jens Soering, the Media, and the Truth

Söring’s next triumph was a full episode of Germany’s most popular talk show. Markus Lanz has been a fixture of German television since the 1990s, hosting quiz shows, cooking shows, and political debates. Lanz, who has joint Italian and German citizenship, has a compact frame, a full head of gray hair, and chiseled features. His interviews are lively and interactive; he will occasionally cross-examine his guests and interject his own opinions. This has made his show a hit; an average episode attracts around 1.7 million viewers. His guests are the crème de la crème of the German political and entertainment scene. Every episode of the show is reviewed in national newspapers the next day, the phrase “Did you see Lanz last night?” is heard in office break rooms all over Germany.

As with Spiegel, intense preparation preceded Söring’s interview. Lanz’ producers received the standard “media pack” of pro-Söring information. His lawyer and PR consultant began negotiations with Lanz’ producers. Things went farther: Lanz met personally with Söring to discuss the show; the main question being whether Söring would have all 75 minutes of the broadcast to himself. Söring and Lanz went jogging together in Hamburg (where both lived at the time). I reported this on 5 June 2020 on my blog. Lanz agreed with Team Söring’s demands: Söring would be the focus of the show. Lanz did not invite any skeptics of Söring’s claims, nor did he mention me or the Wright Report. The only other guest would be Prof. Bernd Maelicke, a lawyer and sociologist specializing in prisons and rehabilitation.

The interview took place in late March at the ZDF studio in Hamburg. Owing to COVID precautions there was no studio audience, and the guests sat socially distanced. Söring wore a black sweater, black pants, and white athletic shoes. In a major coup for Lanz, John Grisham participated in the evening in the form of a pre-recorded interview. In a brisk introduction, Lanz mentions that Söring “confessed the crime”, then characterizes his trial as a “he-said, she-said” (Aussage gegen Aussage) contest between Söring and Elizabeth Haysom.

After footage of Söring’s return to Germany is shown, Lanz turns to Söring and notes: “You’re beaming right now!” Söring confirms this was “the most wonderful day of my life”. More softballs arrive: “What does the number 179212 mean for you?” “Was there a time in prison when you didn’t feel like a number?” “Why didn’t you simply confess guilt and show remorse when that could have saved you 10 or 15 years in prison?” To this last, Söring answers: “I couldn’t say it because it wasn’t true. I did not commit this crime.” Söring continues, saying of Virginia authorities: “They wanted to break me. But they never did. The fact that they nevertheless let me out is a confession on their part that I wasn’t the one, or at least that there were serious doubts about my guilt.”

It was evident that Lanz, gazing at his erstwhile jogging partner with an expression of warm partisan sympathy, intended to let Söring say whatever he pleased. Lanz tosses another marshmallow: “You mean to tell us that you were ready to spend the rest of your life in prison rather than [confess guilt]?” “Of course. Absolutely, absolutely,” Söring replies. At this point, things become even sunnier for Söring. Lanz introduces the first clip from the interview with John Grisham. Lanz emphasizes that it’s “very, very important” that Grisham is a former criminal-defense attorney who worked in the South. Söring’s face lights up when he realizes John Grisham is about to go to bat for him in front of 1.7 million German viewers. Grisham does not disappoint, emphasizing how rare parole is in Virginia and attributing Söring’s release to his excellent prison record and to “political pressure”. Grisham calls Söring a “great guy”.

Lanz then turns to Söring’s parole. Söring says he is grateful to Virginia Governor Ralph Northam for releasing him. Northam, Söring claims, would have pardoned Söring entirely, but that was not “politically possible” because the matter “would have exploded again”. Söring then turns to the second reason why he wasn’t pardoned—Virginia would have had to pay him €1.4 million in compensation. Söring provides no proof of any of these claims, nor does Lanz ask for any.

Lanz does not tell viewers that the Virginia Board of Parole issued an official statement explaining their reasons for releasing Söring and noting that the Board had conducted an “exhaustive” investigation into Söring’s claims and found them meritless. Lanz then notes that there are people who are “deeply convinced” that Söring is guilty, although he does not name them. Lanz asks Söring whether this upsets him. Söring says he understands these people, since he in fact gave “a confession”, although he did so “out of love”. Söring explains that false confessions are the second-most-common reason for miscarriages of justice.

Grisham now returns: There was no physical evidence linking “Jens” to the crime scene, and he was a “scrawny, wiry kid” who could hardly have stabbed two people to death with a butcher knife. It had to be more than one person, Grisham asserts. Söring got “a bunch of the facts” wrong in his “false confession”. Of the Virginia authorities, Grisham says: “They all screwed up, they got it wrong. That happens in this country all the time.” Grisham really hits his stride now, saying there was enormous “pressure to find the right person”. Söring’s defense lawyer (Grisham uses the singular) was “terrible” and the judge was a “crony” of the victim’s family. We now return to the studio, where Maelicke denounces the entire U.S. justice system as having “little to do with law or justice,” whereas Germany has “independent” courts. Lanz asks Söring why he no longer has contact with his family. Söring adopts a thoughtful, statesmanlike expression and says: “I would not like to talk about that. These people have a right to privacy. If I were to spill the beans about some family drama, they don’t deserve that… I was also injured by this.”

We now come to Elizabeth. Söring recites the basics: Elizabeth was older, much more experienced, and very attractive, I was so in love with her. Lanz then asks “The night of the crime. Where were you?” “I was not at the crime scene,” Söring insists. “I knew nothing about it. I was in Washington, D.C., at the movies. I only heard about the crime later.” Lanz now asks the crucial question: “From her?” Söring pauses for five awkward seconds, staring at Lanz. Lanz then steps in to help:

Lanz: For legal reasons you…

Söring: It is in fact the case that the legal situation has changed. (Pause) In the U.S., I was in prison and right in the middle of a struggle for freedom, and I was subject to American law. Nowadays, I live in Germany, I am free, and I am subject to German laws. I must obey German laws. Therefore, I now cannot say the same things about the night of the crime that I could back then in the U.S. All I can say is that I was not there and have no idea who wielded the knife.

Lanz then plays a clip from Söring’s trial in which Söring accuses Elizabeth of murdering her own parents, explaining apologetically that this is the only thing “we can do legally”. This was the strategy Söring had worked out with his German lawyers, and Lanz obediently implements it.

Now we hear the rest of the story: the flight from the U.S., Söring’s supposed belief in diplomatic immunity, his “recantation” of his confessions. Söring now claims he recanted his confessions right after the European Court of Human Rights’ judgment in July 1989. This seems unlikely, since, as we’ve seen, Virginia newspapers reported that Söring only switched his defense strategy in April 1990. Lanz ask for no proof of Söring’s claim, and Söring provides none. Söring then states he has had no contact with Elizabeth since a “court date” in January 1987, and has no desire to communicate with her. His only comment: “I wish she could tell the truth”. Lanz pauses to let this plea for simple honesty sink in. Then he turns to prison. Söring declares that he “became a convicted criminal for the first time in his life” on 21 June 1990. This is untrue, of course, since Söring had served a year in prison in England after pleading guilty to fraud. Lanz does not correct Söring.

Söring describes his dimming hope of release as the decades progressed, until everything turned around in 2009, when the “DNA letter” arrived. At first it didn’t seem to indicate much, Söring says, until seven years later, when the comparison with the 1985 blood-typing results came in. Söring now launches into his argument that the Type O blood could not have come from him. Lanz steps in to help Söring, noting that 45% of Americans have Type O blood.

Next up is the sockprint: “Because of this sockprint, I was sentenced to two life terms in prison. Because of this sockprint.” Lanz interjects: “But this sock wasn’t even your size!” “Of course!”, Söring says, “that’s right”. Lanz, fidgeting with excitement, says “There are so many inconsistencies in all of this that looking back on it, you have to wonder why someone didn’t just jump up and say: ‘Stop! None of this makes sense!’” Söring gestures at Lanz in excited agreement. After some discussion of prison conditions and rehabilitation, Lanz thanks Söring for his “very moving, very impressive” answers and ends the show.

Söring had been given 75 minutes to hit all the highlights: Elizabeth is a liar and likely a murderer, DNA excludes me, the only evidence against me was the sockprint, etc. John Grisham denounces Sweeney as a biased “crony” of the family, Söring’s lawyer was “terrible”. Söring forged an alternate reality in which he was the victim of a campaign of lies by Elizabeth. The reasonable expectation of the Virginia Parole Board that Söring accept responsibility for his crime becomes a campaign to “break” him. Söring was permitted to portray the decision to deny him a pardon as an act of political and financial cowardice, while the reasons the Parole Board itself had given in it is own official statement were ignored.

Worse still, I had paid for this travesty of journalism, which ran on a fee-financed public television station. Before the Markus Lanz show, I had turned my attention to other matters; I had put the evidence against Söring out there in German, and Terry Wright had done so in English. Based on many previous communications with German journalists, I assumed reporting about Söring would become more critical and balanced, and that interest in his story would fade once people knew most of it was untrue. Markus Lanz showed me how naïve I had been. In his 2021 book Return to Life, Söring says that, in preparation for the show, he had met with the same television producer who had produced his 2007 interview with Johannes B. Kerner, and that the producer told Söring that his story continued to “haunt” him.

I realized that for every German journalist who cared enough about the truth to look beyond the media pack, there was another who would fall for Söring’s charm and rely on the pre-packaged narrative put together by Söring’s lawyers and PR consultants. The only way to stop the next Markus Lanz was to make journalists pay a price for bias. So I did something very German: I filed a complaint. Germany’s public stations must follow a code of principles. I argued that Lanz’ show had violated several of these principles, including an obligation to maintain objectivity, present conflicting viewpoints, report all relevant facts, and air a broad spectrum of opinions.

Aided by Elizabeth’s lawyer Markus Goldbach (who was not acting on her behalf for this purpose), I prepared a twenty-page complaint. I requested that the television channel disclose all of the communications between Lanz’ producers and Söring’s various legal and PR proxies. I wanted to know what agreements had been reached about the scope and content of the interview. In particular, I wanted to know if Söring had insisted that no skeptical voice would appear onstage alongside him. I posted the complaint on my blog, coupled with a post in which I identified all of the spin and misleading statements Lanz had allowed to go unanswered. If Söring was going to argue his case in the most public forums he could find, so would I.

The response to my complaint came in the form of a polite three-page letter from none other than Thomas Bellut, the chief of the nationwide TV channel. He genuflected to the serious responsibilities of German public broadcasters, and argued that Lanz’s “critical” questions showed he did not simply broadcast Söring’s claims without pushback. Further, he noted, this episode of Lanz was intended to be a human-interest feature about Söring’s personality and story, not his guilt. This would become the standard defense for German journalists accused of handing Söring with kid gloves: Our interview or feature was about Söring the man, not Söring’s guilt or innocence. Yet as we’ll see, Söring managed to argue his innocence in every one of his appearances.

I could have appealed to the supervisory board governing German public broadcasting, but I decided not to. I had other projects, and being the only public target of Söring’s online fan community in Germany was tiresome. Yet I would soon receive moral support. A relative of Elizabeth emailed me in mid-2020. Victor*, a retired lawyer, had helped Elizabeth find a new life in Canada there after her release. He informed me that she had changed her name and settled into a new life in Canada. Few people knew who she was, and those who did were helping her build a future.

Victor wrote that the Haysom family appreciated my work. The family was still split, with some members, such as Howard Haysom, convinced that Elizabeth was more involved than she had let on. Söring’s continuing accusations against her aggravated this conflict and hindered efforts at reconciliation. Victor let me know that Elizabeth appreciated my efforts as well, but would never seek or grant any contact with me or any other journalist. She intended to live out the rest of her life in privacy, come what may. Nevertheless, she was glad that someone was actively pushing back against Söring’s lies.

I soon received encouragement of a more practical kind: a phone call from Dr. Alice Brauner, daughter of legendary film producer Artur Brauner. Artur Brauner had been born in Kattowitz (now Katovice), a city in the German province of Upper Silesia, in 1918. During the Nazi occupation of Poland, Brauner, who was Jewish, managed to flee to the Soviet Union and survive the ensuing Nazi occupation there, but almost fifty of his relatives were murdered in concentration camps. After World War II, Brauner contemplated emigrating to the U.S., but instead chose to resettle to West Germany. There, he established one of West Germany’s most successful film production companies. Along with pure entertainment, Brauner also produced movies confronting Germany’s horrific recent past. This was deeply controversial in the immediate post-war period, during which the mainstream of German society sought to ignore or downplay Nazi atrocities. Brauner also provided financial and publicity assistance to the fledgling movement to identify and arrest high-ranking ex-Nazis.

After obtaining a doctorate in history, Alice Brauner continued in her father’s footsteps as head of the Munich-based company CCC Film and Distribution, producing a mixture of entertainment and serious journalism. Brauner told me that along with many other international production companies, CCC had expressed interest in the rights to Söring’s story, but did not get the nod. Her interest in the case led her to read my January 2020 FAZ article, which caused her to doubt Söring’s story. She had also read the Wright Report.

She eventually decided to call me up and see what I could tell her about Jens Söring and his story. In a one-hour conversation in German, I let her know that I still stood by my articles and that I had communicated with Terry Wright, who was very much real and very much an expert on Söring’s case. As we spoke, she became more and more animated. Had she really just witnessed a six-figure bidding war for a story based on lies? I assured her that was the case. As we brainstormed, an idea formed in Brauner’s fertile imagination.

What if the real story wasn’t Söring’s melodramatic claim to have sacrificed his life for love, but rather the story of a prisoner so charming, clever, and most of all persistent that he had managed to convince lawyers, celebrities, journalists, politicians, detectives and even a sitting sheriff to take his side? I told Brauner that I had no instinct for what would make a good documentary, but I personally found Söring’s innocence campaign fascinating on a psychological level. I also believed that the public deserved a corrective to the misleading and incomplete accounts of the case it had received so far. Brauner agreed, but she needed witnesses and interview partners. Could I secure Terry Wright’s cooperation? I told her I would do my best.

I also let her know about the feelers Eva Beck had sent my way. Brauner nearly jumped out of her chair with excitement. Team Söring could dismiss me as an American lawyer unwilling to hear criticisms of the U.S. justice system and Wright as a retired cop trying to rescue his damaged reputation. But Eva Beck was another matter entirely. She had been one of Söring’s closest and most active supporters for years. She had left the team not because of any personal grudge (or because of rejected romantic advances, as Söring would later claim), but because she had become increasingly convinced that she was helping to perpetrate a fraud. Further, she had access to documents which could prove her claims. I warned Brauner that Söring now had not only an informal support network but a team of trained legal and PR professionals on his side. Given his vindictive nature, he would surely pounce on any significant factual errors, and perhaps even launch lawsuits. With Beck’s help, we could report from behind the scenes of Söring’s PR campaign with facts backed by documentary evidence, not mere speculation.

Brauner didn’t yet know what form the project would ultimately take. As of 2020, there was still plenty of interest in Söring’s story. He had sold rights packages to several organizations, and had also begun working on his book for Bertelsmann/Random House, which he created with the help of an uncredited ghostwriter.