German history is relentless -- and full of sticky Catch 22s, particularly when the Nazis are concerned. These days, one of the top struggling points for politicians and commentators is what to do about far right and neo-Nazi extremists -- particularly the question of whether they should be allowed to openly assemble and demonstrate. It's a right provided by Article 23 of the Constitution, yet still it's often a subject of debate. The talk heated up this week, after 6,000 neo-Nazis marched in Dresden on Sunday and marred the city's otherwise moving commemoration of the 60 year anniversary of the Allied bombing attack that left Dresden in ruins. Instead of the bowed heads of city residents, the image that traveled across the world was that of neo-Nazis on the march again in Germany. Outraged politicians began once again calling for a tightening of -- or even a removal of -- the right for neo-Nazis to demonstrate in public. In the past, such attempts -- including an attempt to ban the party itself -- have failed. To make matters more complicated, the last time such a tough measure against the right to assemble was put in place was in February 1933, as Adolf Hitler began solidifying his power.

Currently, Interior Minister Otto Schily and Justice Minister Brigitte Zypries are spearheading an effort sharply restrict any sort of gatherings seen to glorify Hitler or play down the Holocaust. Their bill, which is set to go before parliament next week, would also outlaw such gatherings where commemoration ceremonies are taking place (as was the case in Dresden) or where Holocaust memorials or concentration camps exist. Legal experts have criticized parts of the bill, insisting it doesn't specify what sort of actions fall into the category "playing down and glorifying" Nazi power. Commentators, too, are uncomfortable with the way the government is pushing to get the bill through without ironing out all the problems.

For the Frankfurter Allgemeine Zeitung, the greatest problem is the hectic pace with which everything seems to be happening and the too-vague terms used by those drafting the bill. "Any right-wing radical who dares to describe the Holocaust as 'the organized and undignified treatment of human beings' could soon see himself before a German court accused of playing down the Nazis' crimes," it says. "But what if the government itself uses this formulation? This is how the new assembly law amendment... describes the event that is not allowed to be played down. If this remains the case, then this phrase could soon become part of the standard repertoire of right-wing extremist provocateurs. With their frenetic attempts to ban one particular demonstration by law, politicians are making themselves a laughing stock in front of extremists."

Die Welt points out that -- despite the legitimate critiques of the bill -- German Chancellor Gerhard Schroeder has no qualms. "For him, the goal is clear," the paper writes. "Neo-Nazi demonstrations on specific places like concentration camps should be forbidden."

The daily Der Tagesspiegel plays something of the devil's advocate, posing the semi-sacrilegious question, "What would happen if flag-waving neo-Nazis were to march through the Brandenburg Gate on May 8? (The 60th anniversary of the end of World War II). "They would besmirch the image that the whole world sees of Germany on this memorial day. ... It would be regrettable, uncomfortable, and abhorrent. The defining political question, however, is would it be unbearable?" The paper's own answer is a clear no. "No, because a nation with a 50-year history of democracy has also to tolerate it when its arch enemies make use of its achievements." The paper then poses a key question for Germany today, practically begging its readers to stop going weak-kneed anytime the Holocaust is discussed. "What would happen if supposed helplessness would turn into self-confidence? If the state were a bit more relaxed?" In other words, if Germans just accepted the crazies among them like other nations do, rather than getting frantic every time they raise their racist heads? Wouldn't the nation be better off? More than the fight to ban neo-Nazis, the paper says it agrees with Schroeder, who in the past has insisted that the real fight is the one for the minds of German youth.

The second story to set German commentators off on Friday is the surprise announcement by the German soccer team Borussia Dortmund that it will go bankrupt unless creditors sweep in and bail it out. The team -- a former European Champion and the nation's only soccer club listed on the stock exchange -- owes €29.7 million ($38.7 million) and has forecast a loss of €68.8 million for the first half of 2005. Many have cited rampant mismanagement and ridiculous promises about how much could be made on merchandising as the real problem. The team is hoping for a dramatic rescue, but so far, it can't muster enough aid from disillusioned investors.

For Die Welt the solution is quite simple: sports teams should not get mixed up in stock markets. For the most part, it says the sort of returns soccer clubs first look at are on the field in winning games. On the surface, teams always cost more than they bring in. "When Dortmund sold itself to investors as a diversified sports club, (aka that it also had all sorts of merchandizing possibilities) that were not dependent on how well the team did, it was marketing a fairy tale," the paper says. As it turns out, Dortmund hasn't been playing well and sales for its products have been understandably low. The answer, it says, is for Germans to follow the French model. "In France, ever since 1999, soccer teams are, by law, not allowed to join the open market."