How low can you go?

Had to spend so much time to get logged in that I almost forgot the topic I wanted to post a blog about. I remember.... Since a couple of weeks there is a tv commercial featuring Jules Deelder, the self proclaimed 'Night mayor' of the city of Rotterdam. Deelder is well known as a popular poet, a very regular in the Rotterdam club scene, always dressed in black and always sporting a pair of black sun glasses, and probably dying his hair black and wearing it in a fiftieslike fashion. He's also a fanatic supporter of the Rotterdam soccer club Sparta, playing in the bottom part of the Dutch premier league. Deelder himself used to be in the same league as the late rock musician and painter Herman Brood, though he didn't really share his preferences for drugs abuse and booze. The only article Brood ever used to promote was himself, and - in his last spectacular act - the Amsterdam Hilton hotel, from which he made his suicidal jump.
In this tv commercial Jules Deelder, formerly known for his anti-bourgeois and anti-capitalist attitudes, now promotes a detergent called 'Robijn', which has a little toy bear as its brand image. One can imagine how the 'creative designers' of this commercial conceived of the reputedly rough and rough Deelder as the antithesis of the sweet and dearing toy pet. But what about Deelder himself? Is he in such a desparate need for money? Has he taken a sniff of coke too many? How low can you go? Jules Robijn Deelder, the national pet poet, the darling of all house wives, the substitute hugging pet. It is like seeing Johny Rotten advertising health food, or Alice Cooper promoting cat food. Jules Deelder, figure head of a lost generation, indeed.

jan's blog

Retorica

De moeder – of misschien wel de grootmoeder – aller politieke dooddoeners is wel de frase: ‘We moeten eerst met zijn allen beslissen wat we aan willen met ......’, waarna het onderwerp of thema van keuze kan worden ingevuld. Deze frase heeft een eerdere dooddoener vervangen die elk kritisch geluid smoorde met de wijsheid 'Dat hebben we nu eenmaal met zijn allen met elkaar zo afgesproken'. Alsof parlementaire democratie een vorm van democratisch centralisme is, en alsof parlementaire besluitvorming op basis van 'volksraadpleging' plaatsvindt. Van ophokplicht voor hobbykippen tot de invoering van een nieuw zorgverzekeringsstelsel is mij nooit om mijn mening gevraagd, laat staan dat ik hierover iets heb afgesproken. Wet- en regelgeving vindt namens mij en voor mij, maar ook zonder mij plaats. De discussies over de invoering van een referendum laten ten overvloede zien dat volksraadpleging juist het laatste is was de gevestigde politieke orde wil. Het motto werd vooral gebruikt om de burger te verplichten zich aan afspraken te houden die hij of zij nu juist zelf NIET had gemaakt.
De nieuwe dooddoener wordt door politici in drie gevallen gebruikt. Als zij bepaalde ontwikkelingen willen vertragen zoals bijvoorbeeld Tony Blair: ‘Eerst moeten we in Europa consensus zien te bereiken over wat we met de EU aan willen’. In de tweede plaats wanneer politici zelf niet weten wat ze met een onderwerp aan moeten, en dan gaan oproepen tot een Brede Maatschappelijke Discussie, zoals de Nederlandse regering deed onmiddellijk na de verwerping van de Europese Grondwet door een overtuigende meerderheid van de kiezers. Tenslotte halen politici de dooddoener van stal als ze niet willen toegeven dat beleid op een mislukking is uitgelopen. De grenzen tussen deze categoriën zijn natuurlijk uiterst dun: de Nederlandse regering probeert met de overigens alweer afgeblazen BMD over Europa niet alleen de eigen radeloosheid, maar ook het démasqué van haar eigen Europabeleid toe te dekken. Blair beseft maar al te goed dat de door hem bepleite modernisering van Europa binnenlands op de tradtionele Britse Euroscepsis en in Europees verband op de onwil of het onvermogen tot modernisering van met name Frankrijk en Duitsland zal stranden.
Het PvdA-kamerlid Brugman gaf een staaltje van het gebruik van de dooddoener ten beste in het programma Buitenhof van zondag 23 oktober. Zij beantwoordde de forse kritiek op het studiehuis waarover een vernietigend rapport was verschenen, met de oproep om het eerst maar eens met elkaar eens te worden over wat in de hedendaagse kennismaatschappij van onderwijs verwacht mag worden.
Men mag toch rederlijkerwijs verwachten dat een dergelijke discussie vóór de invoering van het studiehuis gevoerd zou zijn. Dat werd immers een jaar of zeven geleden geïntroduceerd toen Manuel Castells driedelige verhandeling over economie, politiek en cultuur in 'the information age' hoog op de internationale bestsellerslijsten scoorde en in Nederland Paul Frissen's boek De Virtuele Staat het bureau van menig (onderwijs) bestuurder opsierde. Afgaande op de oproep van Brugman is één en ander indertijd volledig aan de politiek in het algemeen en de voor onderwijs verantwoordelijke bewindspersonen in het bijzonder voorbij gegaan. Maar afgezien van de vraag hoe de klok stilgezet of zelfs teruggedraaid zou kunnen worden om deze discussie alsnog te voeren, staat één uitkomst daarvan wel vast. Tot welke eisen aan het onderwijs in de 'kenniseconomie' dit debat ook zou leiden, het studiehuis zal daaraan niet voldoen. Zou dat wel het geval zijn was de hele discussie immers overbodig.
Impliciet gaf het Kamerlid dus het failliet van het studiehuis toe. Wellicht durfde ze dat niet hardop te zeggen uit piëteit voor haar twee dagen eerder overleden collega-Tweede-Kamerlid en partijgenote Adelmund die als staatssecretaris verantwoordelijk was voor de invoering van het studiehuis. De naam van de aanstichtster van al dit onheil viel niet één maal, zoals ook zeker niet werd gememoreerd dat haar grootste verdienste als staatssecretaris van OC&W bestond uit de uitbreiding van het politieke jargon met de term 'zwabberen'.
Met het aanhalen van de grootmoeder aller dooddoeners maskeerde Brugman ook haar eigen gebrek aan visie op wat van onderwijs in de 'kenniseconomie' verwacht mag worden. Door te doen alsof de kennseconomie een fenomeen van vandaag of gisteren is, demonstreerde ze het schrijnend gebrek aan kennis en intellect dat sinds het afleggen van de ideologische veren door Kok in de PvdA en sinds de revolutie van 'Professor Pim' in de Nederlandse politiek in het algemeen de norm is geworden. Onderzoek en onderwijs zijn aan dit kamerlid in elk geval niet besteed geweest. Eén ding is wel duidelijk: onderwijs is te belangrijk om aan politici over te laten. Daar kunnen we het met zijn allen wel over eens zijn.

They took a leak...

The Netherlands have confirmed their autonomy: 62% out of 62% of the electorat who showed up at the poll stations last wednesday said 'neen' to the European Constitution (which is actually a treaty and not what is normally understood by 'constitution'). The Dutch are not alone in this: the French also refuted the constitutional treaty by 55%, and chances are that the Danish and maybe the British - if they get a chance - will also reject the proposal of a new European administrative order.

Personally I think that renewal of the European administration is an inevitabel necessity, if Europe is to compete with China and other Asian sleeping giants in the not too far away future. It is also quite naive to expect the US to protect Europe militarily and economically: that country has a huge deficit, its military power is waning - it can't even control Irak, and soon will be facing many problems inside its own boundaries. Moreover, remaining militarily dependent on the US almost unavoidably means getting involuntarily involved in its imperial adventurisme. In order to cope with these rapidly changing conditions, Europe shouuld invigorate itself and brace itself with an efficient and powerful administration.

Having said that, it is obvious that not only Europe needs to be refashioned, but that the Dutch political system needs to be thoroughly renovated as well. If 62% of the votership resoundingly rejects a proposal that has been supported by 80% of the members of parliament, including the major oppositional parties of Labour and the Green, and that has been actively campaigned for by government ministers and party leaders from allmost all established factions, then there is a problem. The problem is only aggravated by the insistent and persistent denial of the problem by those very same politicians: 'the vote was about Europe, and not about us' was about the most heard sound byte. Political leaders who had passionately campaigned for the Constitutional Treaty suddenly decried the speed, the scope, the costs and the notorious intransparency of 'Europe'. The prime minister, who had signed the Treaty and sent it to Parliament for ratification, promissed 'the day after the night before' that he would firmly represent the 'people's view' on Europe in Brussels. Nobody felt the urge to ask the prime minister to step down after this rather humiliating defeat. The parlementarian debate about the referendum can best be summarized by a popular Dutch phrase: 'ze deden een plas, en alles bleef zoals het was' ('they took a leak, and all remained the same..').

Major questions remain unanswered, and major problems remain unsolved. First of all, nobody seems to take any responsibility for Dutch European policy. All politicians agree that the vote was not 'about them'. But who else but them championed the European integration? One of the few issues on which there is a broad consensus among Dutch political parties of (almost) all denominations, 'Europe', was confronted with an even broader opposite consensus among the Dutch population. Instead of adopting the 'voice of the people', as practically all politicians who defended the European Constitution only two days ago, they should now go back to their voters and say: 'We've done our best, and we thought we did what was best for the future of the country, but you think otherwise. Let us know what it is that you want, and choose a new parliament'. That is, the most logical conclusion of thie unprecedented defeat would be new elections.

The most collateral damage of this referendum has been done to the credibility and legitimacy of the established political parties and their leaders, including Labour and GroenLinks. They, as well as the parties in power, should go back to the voters and ask for a new mandate. In new elections they could also advance their views on the future of Europe, so the voters would not only have the choice of either accepting a proposed constitution of rejecting it wholesalesly. On the basis of the outcome of new elections, parliament could even reconsider the ratification of the Treaty.
It is foreseeable that the political establishement, having choosen not to act upon the voters' massacre, will have to face doubts and questions from the far-right as well as from the far-left opposition about who they represent and with what authority they speak. It comes as no surprise that neither left or right wing oppositional party demanded new elections (apart from Wilders), because they know very well that in the coming two years the authority and legitimacy of the established parties will simply erode. In the near and foreseeable future, some major issue will occur in which the Titanic of the political establishement will meet its iceberg. The tide of populisme can only be contained if political leaders now have the courage to confront their voters.

Apart from the future of Europe, the future of the Dutch political system should also be an issue in upcoming elections. The referendum has made it clear once more, that the so-called 'representative democracy' no longer functions. The majority of the population no longer feels represented by the political parties, and the dismay and discontent of the voters is easily exploited by the negative rhetorics of radical parties at either side of the political spectrum. The leaders of the political establishment know nothing better to do than to embrace the newly discovered tool of the referendum: for every controversial of sensitive issue you call a plesbisciterian vote, and by respecting its outcome nobody will be able to accuse you of elitisme, arrogance, and paternalisme. If the outcome goes against your policy, you're even better off: you can show that you take the vox populi seriously! Responsability, leadership and long term policies are thus all thrown overboard into the vast but unpredictable sea of popular sentiments, grunges and fears, and in the end nobody will be accountable for the wreckage when the Titanic eventually hits its iceberg.

And how is our prime minister together with his minister of foreign affairs supposed to represent the Netherlands in European platforms in a remotely credible way? How can he be taken seriously by other heads of state and government if he proves to so flexible as to first defend the treaty (not eschewing references to WWII and Auschwitz) only to return at the conference tables to reject it as vehemently in the name of his people? Other leaders will certainly ask themselves on behalf of whom PJB is talking, and whether he will still say the same things tomorrow or next week? And how is he going to represent which part of the Dutch nation: can he still rely on a discredited majority in parliament, or should he consult with the winners of the referendum, the Socialist Party, the fundamentalist Christians, and - even worse - the self proclaimed populist hero Geert Wilders? Just to save our PM these embarrassing questions the leaders of the political establishment should have the decency to call for new elections.

canons or firecrackers?

A not so interesting debate is raging in the Netherlands. It evolves around the question 'who are we?', 'what is our position in the world?', and it seems to be inspired by the fear that most citizens of this small country don't really care about where they came from, who they are, what language they speak, and what customs, traditions, and history keeps them together. Plea's are made to reintroduce canons of (national, dutch) literature and national history into the curricula of primary and high schools, to oblige students of universities and polytechnics to take courses in history, art, literature and culture at large in order to create a sense of communality, a common source, a common frame of reference, etc.

Most often educational reformers from the sixties and seventies are blamed for the loss of historical, cultural, linguistic and national consciousness that the champions of canons observe and mourne. Question is, however, whether this entirely true.

Most remarkable feature of these debates is that big words like 'tradition', 'culture', 'national identity', 'national values' and their likes cast their shadows over the debates like the threatening clouds on a stormy day in fall, but that the shapes and substance of these clouds are never ever defined. One of the culture critics - who tend to be culture pessimists in the tradition of Spengler and Ortegy y Gasset - ridiculed some representatives of the contemporary cultural elite who were not capable of answering the challenge to come up with features that define dutch national identity with other things than some trivialities like tulips, cheese and herring. The critic who had challenged these public figures, Michael Zeeman, countered their ignorance - or worse, indifference - with an example of how an Itialian waiter in Rome responded to a similar challenge: when Zeeman deliberately misquoted Dante's Inferno when he ordered his meal, he stood corrected by this waiter. Who is here to ridicule? The 'culture critic' who goes about like a quizz master to 'test' the 'national consciousness' of his victims, the waiter whose knowledge of his country's literary national treasures had not brought him a better position in life than being the waiter of this quizzmaster-on-a-mission? Or maybe it shows how ineffective and inefficient the Italian educational system is, where pupils get imbued the 'great texts' of the itialian canon, but receive no training in skills that make them fit for life in the postindustrial society?

Remarkably absent from the contributions of the culture pessimists are the 'new' dutch citizens, whose knowledge of the heroic deeds of our ancestors, the great literary works of the dutch past is less than familiar: the so called 'allochthones'.It is of course the rapid increase of the number of citizens who do not necessarily share knowledge and awareness of Holland's history, culture and traditions that makes these critics aware that a national cultural and historical consciousness can no longer be taken for granted (if it ever could). But instead of honestly admitting this and revealing the cause of their fears, they indulge in lamentations about the educational system, the indifference of the government and politicians in general, and, of course, the 'media'.

Another remarkable thing is that 'culture' or 'values' of 'national identity' always are defined in a sort of 19th century-like way. The critics are not looking forward, and not even looking around them, but they are looking backwards and try to reconstruct a sort of national identity out of a canon, and this process shows the whole circular way of reasoning: we need to go back to the canon in order to rediscover our 'national identity' and common cultural values, but on the other hand the canon can only be reconstructed if we know what national identity and which cultural values it expresses. Unfortunately, the cultural critics refuse to share their knowledge of these values, although they claim to know them.

Remarkably enough they never refer to contemporary culture, modern 'new media', the effects of globalisation, the demise of the nation state, the internationalization of (mass) culture, etc. It is quite revealing that Scheffer in his article in today's NRC only mentions new media once in a negative fashion; they 'divide' and 'individualize', and therefore they can not very well function as vehicles of a common culture. The same goes for other critics like Zeeman and Maarten Doorman (who shares his family name with one of the last dutch maritim heros, Karel Doorman).

However, as Bas Heijne pointed out in today's NRC (02-12-05), this is the kind of nostalgia that can only produce some kind of surrogate version of a past. The 'national awareness' of a 'dutch identity' can only be a surrogate because the 'real thing' never existed in the first place. Canons or firecrackers?