Originally published on the Brigitte.de blog “In the Dutch Mountains” — https://web.archive.org/web/20051122190634/http://blog.brigitte.de/holland/
This morning at breakfast with some Hagelslag, I read in the newspaper: A new study by the Dutch Social and Cultural Planning Office has found that the Dutch do not trust their current government. Less than 40% of the population is satisfied with the cabinet made up of the CDA (CDU), VVD (FDP), and D66 (Democrats). Why? …
They don’t like the necessary dismantling of the welfare state here either, but above all, 61% want “courageous, tireless, and dedicated leaders” in politics. Four years ago, only 33% of the Dutch wanted that.
A wealth of current figures illustrating a unique phenomenon: Until recently, everyone in the Netherlands was always considered equal. Even politicians were always expected to stand on the same level as the “average Joe” (known here as “Jan Modaal”). A Mercedes or Audi as an official car was viewed with extreme distaste; the Minister of Justice would regularly show up on a bicycle while wearing a suit—only then did the Dutch find him likable. “He’s just like us,” was a frequently heard catchphrase.
Even now, authority doesn’t come with a badge here; only when one puts oneself on the same level as the average person is a politician, soccer player, media star, or actor shown respect. “Führer”—for obvious reasons, that word is not at all welcome here, and until now, “political leaders” have never been held in particularly high regard either. After all, we had the polder model.
For a long time, I didn’t know what the word actually meant. Together with my only German friend here, we often looked for a definition and never found one, but eventually someone explained it to me: It means nothing more than constantly weighing everything against one another. Decisions aren’t made by a single individual, but by the entire group. Opposition or not, Dutch politics has seen its share of all-night sessions where discussions went on until a compromise was reached.
That changed abruptly in 2002, when Pim Fortuyn appeared on the scene and, as an extroverted maverick, threw the orderly political parties into chaos. He was the first to dare to speak his mind more freely and to summarize the everyday concerns of the Dutch people—briefly, and perhaps a bit too succinctly and one-sidedly. In Germany, the image of cosmopolitan Holland was shattered; the widely praised tolerance—which often no longer existed even in Dutch homes—also took a hit here.
Since the first political murder, the lines have hardened further; a second murder followed last November, and ever since, the word “allochtoon” has been flying through all the media. According to the official definition, this is a term for a citizen (whether or not they are a naturalized Dutch citizen) whose father or mother comes from another country. So I, too, am an “allochtoon,” but nowadays the term is mostly used to refer only to “niet-westerse” (non-Westerners and non-Europeans). The Netherlands is slowly mutating into an “us” versus “them” culture. Moroccans smash the most car windows, become radicalized, and turn into terrorists; Turks don’t behave properly enough; people from the Antilles bring too many drugs into the country—these are the frequently heard and sometimes, though not always, justified (pre)judgments.
So, pure chaos—now, all of a sudden, no one is equal anymore, and amid all the confusion, the otherwise so individualistic Dutch are suddenly turning to the government and demanding strong leadership. Completely contrary to their nature. They say we must crack down hard now, undo all the things that have been tolerated for so long, forget the past, and think and act only in the here and now.
When it comes to politics, security, and foreigners, the notion that “everyone is equal” has shifted to “only certain groups are equal.” And yet the Dutch are struggling to come to terms with this realization. Because they’d so much like everyone to be as equal as they used to be. And because the world isn’t as simple as it used to be, political leadership is suddenly needed. But that leadership will probably still have to arrive by bicycle.
Ulrike Nagel: Tuesday, September 6, 2005, 3:20 p.m. | Permalink
Comments
It’s interesting how far the tolerance of some so-called “cosmopolitan” people often extends—namely, exactly as far as that tolerance is simple and “convenient.” But as soon as it demands more—such as engaging with different values, cultures, or ways of life—tolerance suddenly becomes too much of a hassle.
I don’t think this is just a Dutch phenomenon…Commented by: Jenny | Wednesday, September 7, 2005, 10:09 a.m.
I’m slowly getting sick of hearing the word “tolerance.” I’m generally a tolerant person, but ever since I moved from a quiet life on the German-Dutch border to a (German) big city some time ago, my tolerance has suffered considerably. Unfortunately, I’m seeing more and more often that foreign nationals or naturalized citizens often behave inappropriately and flout the rules of this country. Just yesterday, I witnessed an older man being shoved by a foreign national or naturalized citizen. The older man wanted to get off a train, but the other man couldn’t wait and was already getting on. The older man asked, somewhat annoyed, if he could get off first. The other (young) man then shoved him. I then told the foreign man that he should let people get off first. He replied that the man had been rude to him. Which was only partly true. I then pointed out that he hadn’t let the man get off. It wasn’t until the foreign man realized that others were also bothered by his behavior that he started to feel at least a little uncomfortable.
Everyone needs to set boundaries for people like that. Unfortunately, far too often, no one says anything. And of course, the same goes for Germans who behave that way.Commented by: Chiara | Wednesday, September 14, 2005, 9:32 a.m.
