An interesting perspective from yesterday's WSJ:
March 6, 1998
Holland Makes an Attempt
To Meld Into the New Europe
By HELENE COOPER
Staff Reporter of THE WALL STREET JOURNAL
"Joey, where do Dutch people come from?"
-- Chandler, on a recent episode of the NBC series "Friends."
THE HAGUE -- It's an established fact that Americans don't know much about the Dutch. Now, it appears, neither do many of the Dutch.
Last year, a magazine gave members of Parliament a Dutch-history test. Most flunked, posting an average score of six out of a possible 15. Many didn't even know who killed William of Orange, the Dutch equivalent of Abe Lincoln. Confesses Hans Hoogervorst, a member of the right-leaning VVD, or People's Party for Freedom and Democracy, who took the test: "I didn't do well, and I'm a historian."
So maybe it shouldn't be surprising that the Dutch, without any show of patriotic fervor, are wholeheartedly embracing the push toward a "United States of Europe"-- one where borders are obliterated, national governments defer to a larger entity, and Brussels rules benignly over all.
Traveler's Aid
While Europeans across the continent are bent out of shape about relinquishing their national currencies in favor of the soon-to-be-introduced euro, the Dutch can't be bothered. "Not a drop of that nonsense," says John Thackara, a Briton who heads the Netherlands Design Institute in Amsterdam.
While the French riot over the social welfare cuts they blame in part on the new common currency, many Dutch look forward to bidding farewell to the guilder. "It'll make traveling so much easier," says Roel Jansson, a journalist who recently wrote a book -- a thriller, no less -- about the European Economic and Monetary Union. And while the British fret that mysterious European Union bureaucrats in Brussels are increasing their power over English cities like Birmingham, Dutch local officials sing a different tune. "I'm hoping our direct contacts with Brussels will increase," says Theo Bovens, vice-mayor of Maastricht.
Some folks think this is all to the good. If Europe is truly to integrate -- a goal of many statesmen since World War II -- the Germans, French and Brits are going to have to become more like the Dutch in embracing a pan-European identity. "For the monetary union to work, we need a fully integrated, unified Europe," says Jan Rood, director of studies at the Clingendael Institute, a training academy in The Hague for young Dutch diplomats.
But how far can a country go in blending in before reaching the point that it isn't a country anymore? In the past decade, the Dutch have stripped away layer after layer of sovereignty in the name of Europe, even as a host of nationalities, from Slovenians to Latvians, were greeting the fall of Communism by pursuing nationhood.
Patriots and Pragmatists
Meanwhile, even the countries pushing for a common currency have taken pains to preserve their national identities. It is impossible to imagine the French, who require broadcasters to devote a majority of air time to European programming -- most of it in French -- or the Germans, who joke that they place their faith in the Bundesbank ahead of their faith in religion, putting Brussels ahead of Paris or Frankfurt.
But for the Netherlands, and Western Europe's other flyspecks, Belgium and Luxembourg, it's a different -- and entirely pragmatic -- story. The Dutch acknowledge profit and trade will always come before national symbols, and they know they carry more clout as Europeans than as Dutch. "We are very good at accommodating other cultures, because we know what's in our self-interest," says writer Hubert Smeets.
Recognizing that their own economy, with 15 million people, would never be large enough to sustain big companies, the Dutch went global. Close to 55% of the Dutch gross domestic product comes from exports, compared with 23.5% for the French and 23.6% for the Germans. Dutch firms are increasingly international, with ABN-Amro Holding NV recently leapfrogging its European counterparts to become the largest non-U.S. bank in the U.S.
As far as most Dutch are concerned, other countries overdo the nationalism business. "The idea that Americans ... say a pledge of allegiance to a flag, why, that's just ridiculous," says Bart Tromp, a political-science professor at Leiden University. Mr. Tromp shudders at the thought of patriotic groups like the Daughters of the American Revolution. "Thank God, we don't have that," he says.
"We are Europeans first," explains Hilde Jansen, in a pronouncement odd for a cultural attache at the Dutch Embassy in London. But it's true. Holland's borders are so porous, travelers to the Netherlands hardly notice they have arrived in a different country. After the Dutch signed an accord with six other European nations in 1994, anybody can freely travel by road into the Netherlands without so much as a by-your-leave from Dutch immigration authorities.
Crossing the Dutch border into the southern province of Limburg from Belgium brings this blurring of national lines into sharp relief. There are no immigration checkpoints, no customs agents, no clue at all but a small sign that says "Welcome to Maastricht."
It could just as easily say "Crossroads Europe." Polylingual as ever, the Dutch have signs in English, French and German, as well as in their own language, which they don't really expect anyone else to understand. On market day, stallkeepers freely exchange three currencies. Belgian firefighters fight fires in Limburg, while German police can freely pursue criminals into the Netherlands.
In 1991, Maastricht was catapulted onto the international stage when European countries signed the famous treaty there that set the criteria for currency and monetary union. Ever since, Maastricht has been peddling itself as a "City of Europe," trying to turn Limburg into a "Euro-region."
With only 600,000 people, Maastricht hosts more than 40 European institutes, including the European Parking Association ("the umbrella organization of all European car-park enterprises"). "We have a marketing name now that's worth billions," says Mr. Bovens, the Maastricht vice-mayor.
Young Men About Europe
Back in Amsterdam, 28-year-old Jan Van Der Moolen and two friends are hanging out on the Leidseplein, the first stop in town for "Let's Go Europe" backpackers, distributing leaflets for a local nightclub. All three speak flawless English; two also speak German. All have traveled far and wide.
Pondering what there is about their country that inspires nationalistic feelings, they fall silent.
The Dutch queen? "Not really."
The Dutch army? "That's funny!"
The national anthem? "I don't even know the words." (That's just as well; the anthem includes a line paying homage to the King of Spain.)
Then, Mr. Van Der Moolen brightens, finally coming up with a symbolic moment of national unity. "When we beat Germany in 1988 for the European [soccer] Championship," he says. "I cried."
--Almar Latour contributed to this article. |
