Murder in Amsterdam: Liberal Europe, Islam, and the Limits of Tolerance

“The result was widespread unemployment, dependence on the welfare state, petty crime, and a vicious cycle of social discrimination and sporadic violence. There are still many Surinamese without an official job, perhaps as many as 30 percent, but the Surinamese are no longer a ‘problem.’ They always speak Dutch, excel at soccer, and by and large have been moving steadily into the middle class. Like the West Indians in Britain, they are not universally welcomed, but are still recognized as an exotic yet integral part of the national culture.”

Referring to the initial round of immigration to the Netherlands during the middle part of the 20th century, this highlights how, in the view of many Dutch, not all immigrants are created equal. While the Dutch may not completely like the immigrants who came from former Dutch colonial possession, they do feel an obligation to assist those who used to be under their rule. Furthermore, because these immigrants had a solid understanding of Dutch culture before their arrival, they better assimilated into the Dutch lifestyle than immigrants from Morocco and Turkey, whose cultures bear no resemblance to that of the Dutch and whom the Dutch never intended to stay on in the Netherlands after their tenure as guest workers ended.

“Citizenship of a democratic state means living by the laws of the country. A liberal democracy cannot survive when part of the population believes that divine laws trump those made by man. The fruits of the European Enlightenment must be defended, with force if necessary. It is time for Muslims to be enlightened too. European intellectuals, in their self-hating nihilism and utopian anti-Americanism, have lost the stomach to fight for Enlightenment values.”

This is a synopsis of the beliefs of Afshin Ellian, who believes that it is impossible for two cultural mores to exist simultaneously in the same country. For Ellian, it is one or the other, and the culture that has proven to be one of liberation, intellectual engagement, and progress should be the one striven for. Regression towards a more primitive culture should not only be opposed, but resisted, even violently when necessary, simply because it took too long to arrive at the present political climate in Western Europe that elevated many from poverty and the slavery of divine right and dogma.

“‘We must talk more next time about the lack of confidence in Western civilization.’ Like Afshin Ellian, he [Frits Bolkestein] frets about European weakness. That is why he worries about the possibility of Turkey, with its 68 million Muslims, joining the European Union. For it would, in his view, spell the end of Europe, not as a geographical entity, but as a community of values born of the Enlightenment.”

For some European politicians and thinkers, the usurpation of the Enlightenment value of tolerance has gone too far and has made it impossible to defend the other aspects of European culture which, in their view, elevates it from other competing cultures entering modern day Europe. For thinkers like Bolkestein, Europe is a mindset that has been founded in the Enlightenment, and to replace this mode of thinking with another, alien and in his opinion more primitive one, would be the death of Europe and Western Civilization as we have come to know it. 

“But not every pious Muslim is a potential terrorist. To see religion, even religious orthodoxy, as the main enemy of Enlightenment values is misleading. For even though the modern terrorist has latched onto a religious faith, he might as well have chosen—and in different times did choose—a radically secular creed to justify his thirst for violent death. Besides, there is a difference between the anticlericalism of Voltaire, who was up against one of the two most powerful institutions of eighteen-century France, and radical secularists today battling a minority within and already embattled minority.”

Buruma is playing devil’s advocate and not allowing an overly simplistic view of Islam as a social philosophy to be adopted. While yes, there are many in the Muslim community who resort to violence in the name of religion and rebel against the liberal tenets of Western Civilization, these people have always existed in one form or another; the difference, however, for those who previously fought against the principles of the Enlightenment was that their cause was not in the name of religion but another “death cult” such as Nazism, Fascism, or Marxism.

“The whole point of liberal democracy, its greatest strength, especially in the Netherlands, is that conflicting faiths, interests, and views can be resolved only through negotiation. The only thing that cannot be negotiated is the use of violence.”

Violence, though necessary at times, should, in a liberal democracy, be the final resort people use when trying to settle their disagreements because violence, unlike debate and discourse, is final. Once violence is agreed upon, all manners of civilized modes of being are eschewed in favor of strength and brawn, and victory, rather than compromise, must be the end result.

“He [Pim Fortuyn] was a peddler of nostalgia.”

Nostalgia, or the idea that times used to be better, is a penchant of many politicians, as people often long to return to a utopian past where things were clear and ordered and less messy than the present day. Buruma claims that Fortuyn’s great appeal to the masses was that he represented a calmer, clearer version of what it meant to be Dutch, as well as a time in the Netherlands when society was ordered and therefore more easily navigated than it is today.

“Funerals of public figures often provoke mass hysteria. It is on such occasions that you see what lurks in the hearts of millions. The outpouring of grief, though perhaps genuinely felt, can look phony. To some extent it is. The emotions are misplaced, for they are almost never based on personal acquaintance. But the dead person serves as a focus of real anxieties and disappointments.”

As the religious and spiritual realm disappears from public life, people are often left with no outlet for their fears and concerns—things that they once could offer up silently or communally in church to a greater being that they believed watched over them. Due to the erosion of religion from society, these communal events of pathos and release have become less and less available to the average citizen. As such, grand events of mourning often trigger an outpouring of pent-up emotion that people have been longing to release but that they cannot because it is not polite to do so in society. 

“It was as if the postwar generation needed to make up for the failure of their parents. The sons and daughters of those who had been unable to prevent a hundred thousand Jews from being singled out for murder would fight the new dictators, the Orange SS, the Gestapo in clogs, the German diplomat who had joined the Hitler Youth as a child. There was something pathetic about this belated show of resistance, but also telling. The nation of Anne Frank had not come to terms with its recent and most dramatic past, not with the German occupation, and not with what happened in Indonesia either.”

This passage speaks to the collective guilt present in the children of the World War II generation. They believed that it was their duty to right the wrongs of their parents and to create a new, post-war society in which all people were valued and which could never again be hijacked by the types of policies that led to German aggression and the Holocaust. However, in re-orientating the political climate to a leftist, liberal norm, these people have indirectly helped to create a climate in which current issues cannot be discussed unless they are invariably refracted through the prism of past failures at protecting those who need it the most.

“The insistence on total frankness, the idea that tact is a form of hypocrisy, and that everything, no matter how sensitive, should be stated openly, with no holds barred, the elevation of bluntness to a kind of moral ideal; this willful lack of delicacy is a common train in Dutch behavior. Perhaps its roots are in Protestant pietism, a reaction to what was seen as glib Catholic hypocrisy. Private confession had to become public. Discretion was a sign of holding back the truth, of dishonesty. Whether it is a national trait or not, Theo van Gogh exemplified it. It explains his cruelty, but also his passion for free speech, and his defense of those whose freedoms he felt were being threatened.”

This quote attempts to explain why, though the Dutch view tolerance and open-mindedness as a sacred virtue, they also gravitate towards direct, pointed commentary in debate and discourse. Far from sugar coating things, the most well-respected and well-received Dutch thinkers and politicians tend to say exactly what they think, regardless of whom it may offend, for to not do so would be in many ways un-Dutch.

“This was the crowning irony of his [van Gogh’s] life. Van Gogh, more than anyone, had warned about the dangers of violent religious passions, and yet he behaved as though they held no consequences for him. He made the mistake of assuming that the wider world would not intrude on his Amsterdam scene, with its private ironies, its personal feuds, and its brutal mockery that was never intended to draw more than imaginary blood.”

With this passage, Buruma attempts to highlight how, in the mind of many like Theo van Gogh, the tradition of the Enlightenment, i.e., passionate and pointed discourse, was something that existed primarily in the world of esoterism and theory. It was not something that could or should lead to violent action, but rather something that should lead to violent thought. People should be violently disagreed with and violently countered in the intellectual arena, but disagreement, however strong, should never devolve into actual physical violence. That van Gogh, a grand proponent of the pointed debate, was murdered by someone his debate offended, goes to show how deeply different Enlightenment ideals are when compared to those following eternal, dogmatic philosophies.

“It [irony] is indeed part of the tradition, and a great deal of humor depends on it. But there is a less positive side to this tradition. Irony can be a healthy antidote to dogmatism, but also an escape from any blame. Outrageous or offensive statements are often followed by protestations that they were meant in jest, but only once their poisoned darts have hit their marks. Irony is the great license for irresponsibility. Theo van Gogh like to call himself the village idiot, as though that absolved him from everything. And yet he wanted to be taken seriously, too. This wanting it both ways is a common disease of Dutch intellectual discourse, exemplified by some of the writers Van Gogh admired most.”

In the Western Enlightenment tradition, nothing should be sacred or beyond mockery and reproach. In order to show the true nature of certain things, they must be satirized, if only to highlight the ridiculousness and hypocrisy present within them. This is especially true of “sacred” institutions and traditions that have for so long been present in the public consciousness that people often fail to look more deeply into what informs these beliefs.

“The worst thing is to be put in a box, to be told you don’t belong. So you join others who’re in the same box.”

This excerpt addresses the “other” as well as the act of othering. For many people who are not part of the majority, to be labeled as “other” or to be lumped in with a group of people from whom they are trying to escape can be both demeaning and demoralizing. It also serves as an over-simplification and fails to realize that all groups, no matter how homogeneous they may seem from the outside, cannot be painted with one brush. 

In Morocco, he [Farhane] explained, children play in the streets, but they’re never out of sight. Everyone knows each other. Adults look out for other people’s kids. But life in The Hague is different. Boys are let loose, as if they were in a Moroccan village, but no one keeps an eye on them. They run wild because there is nobody to tell them what’s right or wrong. The parents themselves don’t know how to cope with practical things, so their children have to help them with everything, filling out forms, and the like. That’s why children lose trust in their own parents. You end up feeling angry.”

In this discussion with a young Dutch-Moroccan actor, Buruma illustrates how, in something as simple as playing, cultural norms and differences become apparent. For what in one culture is seen as a safe and understood way to behave, is seen by another as reckless and insulant. Moreover, because one generation believes that the norms of their old society can be readily transposed onto their new one, they do not take into consideration the ultimate fallout that their actions have. Furthermore, the inherent freedoms that one society may offer do not always have the desired effect and can sometimes cause people to become resentful of the situation they find themselves in. This occurs because they cannot rationally grasp the disconnect that seemingly exists between one group’s cultural understanding and another’s.

“He [Bellari Said] had some specific data about immigrants that were, to say the least, arresting. The main problems among his patients, he said, were depression and schizophrenia: depression was especially common among women and schizophrenia among men. But schizophrenia did not seem to affect first-generation immigrants. The guest workers tended to become depressed, not schizophrenic. It was the second generation of Moroccans, born and educated in the Netherlands, that suffered from schizophrenia. A young Moroccan male of the second generation was ten times more likely to be schizophrenic than a native Dutchman from a similar economic background.”

Buruma attempts to highlight how notions of identity and displacement strongly affect the second generation of immigrants living in a country. No longer members of their original society, and not seen as true members of their adoptive countries, they live in a psychological limbo that does not allow them to root themselves fully to any one creed or understanding. Therefore, it is not surprising to psychiatrist Said that this demographic is most vulnerable to radicalization merely because they long to be a part of something.

“Social life, he [Scheffer] said, echoing Jolande [Withuis]’s story about the doctor, has to be based on a certain degree of trust, on being on the same wavelength. When you have too many people whose cultures and values are utterly different from your own, that trust can no longer be sustained. Even with his closest Muslim friends, he said, he felt that he could never be sure they had the same understanding, the same sense of humor.”

This passage displays one of the main arguments against the multi-cultural society, namely understanding. It is impossible to have a discourse and come to a common understanding if, at the beginning of a discussion, two people are entering the conversation from completely different mental and moral places. In order for a functioning, liberal society to work, the common baseline between people must be the same, otherwise, the fabric of trust that holds society together slowly begins to unravel until. Then, in the end, there is nothing left at all.

“The defense of one’s culture or religion is understandable in a hostile environment, but it’s hard to see how these issues can be discussed without reference to culture.”

This quotation speaks to the notion that when one is in a foreign, or perceived “hostile” situation, they are more likely to defend the things that they view as “theirs” regardless of whether or not they fully agree with them or if they would normally do so in a less contentious situation. 

“It’s as if you’re ‘mentally disappeared.’ It was a strange and haunting phrase, ‘mentally disappeared,’ something worse than being ignored or treated with indifference. It is as if by mental effort society pretends that you don’t even exist.”

The notion of being “there” but not being noticed or thought about is a common complaint of many immigrants who feel as though the majority does everything in their power to conveniently forget that they are actually present within society. They feel not only forgotten but resentful that, despite their best efforts, the larger society as a whole will not welcome them in. It is a complaint much more common among the educated in immigrant communities who initially work to become part of their adoptive countries, only to become embittered and sometimes outwardly hostile should their attempts to assimilate be thwarted.

“Like all major religions, the Muslim faith comes in many forms and degrees of orthodoxy. Some practices, such as female circumcision, are not religious but cultural.”

Often times many in the West lump all practices that take place in Muslim countries together, not realizing that in fact, some traditions have no connection to Islam but to the local community that just so happens to practice Islam as a faith. This over-simplification often leads to problems and difficulties during discussions because non-Muslims come off as ignorant and ill-informed, especially to their Muslim audiences. 

“There was an element of one-upsmanship here, a kind of competition which Ayaan could not possibly win on the basis of reason. Rivalry among immigrants is not just a matter of age, or birth. One day, on the tram in Amsterdam, I saw a black Surinamese scold an elderly Turkish man who was standing in his way. He berated him for not speaking ‘proper Dutch like everybody else.’”

One of the major issues present within immigrant communities is the way in which some manage to “escape” from the immigrant life. When this happens, depending on the way in which the person acts, speaks, and relates to their former community, resentment may develop. Often, those in the community left behind feel as though these people are playing a part for their new community and have disowned them. This feeling of betrayal can lead to not only open resentment but threats of violence, especially in communities where honor is a central cultural element. Moreover, those that do “escape” often become more native than the natives, as though they are continually trying to prove that although they might look like “them” (or “others”) they are not “like them.”

“Europeans are proud of their welfare states, but they were not designed to absorb large numbers of immigrants. Immigrants appear to fare better in the harsher system of the United States, where there is less temptation to milk the state. The necessity to fend for oneself encourages a kind of tough integration. It is for this reason, perhaps, that immigrants from Africa or the Caribbean often express a contempt for African-Americans, who feel, for understandable historic reasons, that the state owes them something. Immigrants cannot afford to feel that kind of entitlement in the U.S. But in Europe at some of them do.”

In this passage, Buruma highlights how Europeans, rightly so, feel great pride in what they have created for their citizens. However, by the nature of their systems, they must keep other people out so that the system can function as it was originally planned to. This isolationism, however, is problematized by the post-World War II desire of Europeans to offer humanitarian assistance to those in need. Therefore, while not offering traditional immigration for those seeking better financial prospects—like the United States—they do allow many to come as refugees. Ultimately, those immigrants who make it on their own have a not-so-hidden disdain for those who choose to live off of the government assistance offered to those who claim hardship. Thus, this serves to often create an internal rift within immigrant communities between those who believe it is their duty to work hard and advance themselves and those who believe the governments of their adopted countries owe them something because the policies of these governments are indirectly responsible for their current socio-economic situation.

“There are people who believe that the terror of political Islam would go away if only the problems of the Middle East were solved. If only the Americans would withdraw their troops from Iraq, and Israel would be forced to allow Palestinians to reclaim their land, if only Western governments and corporations would stop propping up dictators, if only the bloody stain of colonialism could be wiped out, then the holy war would be over. It is unlikely, however, that those who want God’s Kingdom on earth are going to be satisfied just with a better deal for the Palestinians, or a U.S. withdrawal from Iraq.”

In this passage, Buruma tackles the overly simplistic notion held by many liberals who believe that the scourge of international terrorism is the cause of Western activity, not something that has a deeper, more sinister root in the consciousness of those who truly believe that they are part of a divine conflict here on earth.

“To claim that there are similarities between Mohammed’s Islamism and other kinds of extremism is not to say that they are the same. But the death wish in the name of a higher cause, a god, or a great leader is something that has appealed to confused and resentful young men through the ages and is certainly not unique to Islam.”

Once again, Buruma shows that he cannot be pinned to either argument in the debate on violent Islam, and that his goal in writing Murder in Amsterdam is solely to present the current issue and allow for readers to draw their own conclusions. In Buruma’s mind, political Islam is just another in a long line of philosophies that have seduced people for generations, especially people who are searching for something larger than themselves to be a part of.

“The way people remembered Theo van Gogh was marked by a surfeit not of reason but of sentimentality. It is a common feature of the secular age, these outbursts of displaced religiosity, often expressed at the funerals of media celebrities: Princess Diana, Pope John Paul II, Pim Fortuyn, Theo van Gogh. The tearful farewells to people we never knew have replaced the established forms of organized faith, which used to absorb, in the shape of confessions or common prayer, more personal anxieties and discontents.”

With the removal of religion from modern, Western European civilization, the idea of public spectacle has also been removed, and this is especially true in countries like the Netherlands that are steeped in a Protestant tradition. As it is often argued, human beings need spectacle and ritual in order to bond with each other. The cult of celebrity, especially the celebrity funeral, has taken on the role that allows for massive communal outpouring of emotion in a place and manner that is not seen as gauche or inappropriate.