Gripping and incisive: Florian Klenk's reports chronicle human borders and boundless inhumanity.
General Terekov stands at the gates of Camp Pavshino in the tri-border region of Slovakia, Hungary and the Ukraine in fatigues and a fake fur hat, watching over his charges for the equivalent of 150 euro a month: on a field bounded by a barbed wire fence, Indians are playing cricket against Pakistanis. Instead of normal sports gear they are wearing old soldier coats, and instead of bats they wield wooden cudgels. Pavshino is five hours from Vienna by car. Since the expansion of the Schengen borders in December 2007 it has been a detention camp for those who are caught attempting to enter EU territory illegally. Some of them are war refugees, others were just hoping for a better life. And now?
Florian Klenk describes what has become of them - he is laconic and close to the bone, just as in his reports on international people trafficking and prostitution, or the methods employed by undercover drug cops. Informed by the analytical force of Kurt Tucholsky and Egon Erwin Kisch, Klenk's investigative reports take the reader to the limits of what is imaginable.