My Son in Law purchased this book, while working for the UN in Den Haag.
I being Dutch Born, and leaving the Netherlands in the early 50.s I missed much of that part by of history. The Author Ian Buruma is Dutch born as well.
The story deals with the murder of Theo van Gogh, who is a great grand-son of Theo van Gogh, Vincent's very supportive Brother.
The Theo in the story has been a character from birth, being involved in T.V. interviewing persons of the day the controversial politician Pim Fortuyn , Ayaan Hirsi Ali, and other controversial characters during his life time. Theo was murdered by Mohammed Bouyeri, the story goes into the backgrounds of the characters which makes it an interesting book to read.
Coming from a rigid Calvinist family background I am always amazed that a country that is basically rigid yet has the capacity of tolerance, especially in view of the fact that today.s Dutch society is filled with persons from every part of the world.
I found the book very interesting, and well written and plan on looking fro other writing by its author Ian Buruma.

Explica el asesinato del director de cine Theo Van Gogh (bisnieto del hermano de Vincent Van Gogh) a manos del fanático islamista Mouhamed Bouyeri mientras paseaba en bicicleta . El motivo principal del asesinato es el cortometraje "Submission" que había realizado conjuntamente con Ayaan Hirsi Ali. La película muestra a cuatro mujeres maltratadas y semidesnudas cuyos cuerpos han sido caligrafiados con textos denigrantes para la mujer, sacados del Corán.
Buruma analiza también el shock que supone este hecho en la sociedad multicultural holandesa, una de las más abiertas del planeta.

Before reading this book, one should read Ayan Hirsi Ali's book "Infidel."

Buruma investigates and attempts to understand the reaction of his native country, the Netherlands, to the murder of famous Dutch artist and personage, Theo Van Gogh, who is murdered for his role in making an inflammatory, anti-Muslim film with Ayn Hirsi Ali. The film shows naked women who were abused and with words from the Koran shows how Islam allows or recommends that abuse.

The author sees the unresolved guilt of the Dutch for their failure to protect their Jewish citizens during WWII as shaping their immigration policies. This and their famous tolerance for individual and religious differences has allowed their immigrants to lead separate, un-integrated lives, and has led to the cultural alienation of many of its new citizens.

He interviews many Dutch citizens, including young Turks Moroccans, and Ayan Hirsi Ali and give the reader much to think about. His insight into the ways that the Dutch have wrestled with their immigration problems is of value to all.

I wanted to re-read this book after the terrorism in San Bernardino. The world is neither safer nor saner since Buruma wrote this book. The Netherlands stands in for the West, as similar types of attacks, some small but deadly, other large and impactful, have occurred again and again since Theo Van Gogh was murdered in 2004. Buruma doesn't give us any answers here, but it still makes for fascinating and interesting reading on the clash between the Enlightenment and hatred for what it stands for, between nationalism and multiculturalism (prevalent now in France and the United States), the slip sliding of right and left into murkier areas of political thought. No one comes out perfectly clean in Buruma's book, perhaps because this is a dirty, messy issue without any clear, simple solutions.

Ian Buruma gives us a fascinating rumination on the context, conflicts and potential causes of the murder of Muslim-critic, filmmaker Theo Van Gogh in 2004 Amsterdam.

First, I must thank my son, Patrick, for giving me this book for Christmas. Not only did this gift recognize my love for books, but also tapped into my preferred blend of philosophy, morality and suspense. But unlike my usual mix of Stuart Woods and Michael Connelly, this nonfiction account of the cultural stew on post-911 northern Europe actually is more consonant with my recently reviewed “Moral Landscape.”

The crux of the dilemma confronting the liberal governments of Europe is, most likely, a precursor to the cultural conflicts we will face in the United States, with our growing Muslim population, if we fail to find a course that reconciles the clash between the secular and “God’s laws.” It is ironic, yet no less telling, that the crucible for this debate in Europe is the Netherlands, liberal home of Spinoza and others of the Enightenment who first sowed the seed of separation between Church and State. The church, to be kept separate, then was Christian – be it Catholic or Calvinistic – today it is Islam. Of further caution, is that in the US, unlike the adamantly secular societies of post-War Europe, we have seen the resurgence of God in State. Will that make it harder for us to parse the line between the majority god and the growing minority god and thus the inherent clash of civilizations?

America needs to figure out this puzzle, not only to rescue our foreign policy, but to also preserve our unique freedoms as a country. For if we recreate the naïve mistake the US government made in supporting the Taliban against the Soviet Union in traditional geopolitical gamesmanship, only to see the true believers bite back and destroy the Twin Towers, we run the risk of loosing much more than our innocence this time around.

Buruma gives us some comfort in a conversation with the Dutch Historian, Geert Mak, when Mak insists: “the problem is not Islam, or religion as such. It is more sociological. What we are witnessing is nothing new. Just the usual tensions that occur when uprooted rural people start new lives in the metropolis.”

This comfort, though, fails the test of Buruma’s earlier exploration of the disaffected generation of Muslim immigrants. There is something different about their alienation than the familiar “country mouse” rite of passage in the city describe by Mak. For example, Theo Van Gogh’s killer, like many of the terrorists before, was well educated with social connections. In the past, successive generations used to climb the ladder of assimilation (think the Irish in New York or Boston or Chicago), but in the Netherlands, the second and third generation show deeper psychosis than their parents. Where their parents were depressed (dealing with the maze of the city), the children are schizophrenic. “A young Moroccan male of the second generation is ten times more likely to be schizophrenic than a native Dutchman from a similar economic background (emphasis added).” This points to something more than complexity of the new society; it has more to do with the adaptation of a strictly regulated society to a freer, more open one. Just the traditional cultural strictures on Muslim women, make for a profound cultural clash.

This cogitative dissonance – well beyond adjusting to the pace of a urban life – often times creates a desire for strict religious rules as a form of nostalgia. This is true, even when you weren’t raised under those rules. To remain sane, these successive generations long for the security of a paradise lost. Here, the “stabilizing factor” might in fact be religion -- as a bulwark to stand between the cacophony of choice and the extremism of certainty.

With the murder of the controversial filmmaker Theo van Gogh in the streets of Amsterdam, Hollanders are seriously assessing their liberal viewpoints and policies. Particularly those pertaining to the Isalmic community; since this brutal murder was caused by a Moroccan Dutchman named Mohammed Bouyeri, an extremist. This assassination becomes the focal point of the challenges of Islamic assimilation into a liberal western society. Writer Ian Buruma superbly constructs the arguments by interviewing opposing viewpoints from the Islamic and the native Dutch perspective. Buruma an expatriate Dutchman has an understanding of the nuances of Dutch society and further expands the readers grasp of the problems with great historical examples. Such as comparing the current situation of The Netherlands' Islamic population as to how the Jewish people were once treated in Holland. A great read regarding complicated social issues that have worldwide implications.

Ian Buruma, a former native of the Netherlands, finished this book in 2006 following the 2004 murder of Theo Van Gogh. Theo was a film maker and provocateur, and great grand-nephew of Vincent Van Gogh. A second generation Morrocan immigrant killed him on the street for making a movie that depicted the Quran written on a female body. Ayaan Hirsi Ali, a member of parliament, women's activist and Muslim apostate who collaborated on the project went into hiding and exile. The book explores the social and political environment before and after the events.

A history of Dutch immigration leading up to the millenium is covered briefly, from the Jewish diaspora and deportations (40's), influx from former colonies (50's), guest workers from the Middle East (60's), unemployment, welfare and crime (70's), refugees and asylum seekers from Asia (80's), to the complacency of mainstream politicians (90's). The events of 9/11 marked a change in public opinion regarding immigration. Liberals, disillusioned by the failure of multiculturalism and religious tolerance, joined conservatives in defense of 'Western' values.

At the time of his death, Van Gogh was making a film about the murder of Pim Fortuyn, an outspoken critic of immigration and multi-culturalism. Fortuyn was killed in 2002 by a Dutch assailant opposed to his political views. After Van Gogh's murder conservative politicians made careers fighting immigration and 'Islamic' extremism. Geert Wilders, a member of parliament, was targeted in 2004. He has since lived under armed guard, named by Anwar Al-Awlaki on an Al-Qaida hit list that includes Ayaan Hirsi Ali, Salman Rushdie and the Charlie Hebdo cartoonists.

Buruma provides a panorama of interviews including Van Gogh's parents, his scriptwriter and producer, reformed delinquents from the killer's neighborhood, and a Moroccan psychiatrist who believes young immigrants are liable to a 'cultural psychosis'. He sketches out the life of Ayaan Hirsi Ali in some detail, and gives an account of Mohammed Bouyeri's life and trial. In his research he attempts to connect past, present and future events to Van Gogh's murder. It is an ambitious and fragmented approach, but reveals much about the challenges that face Europe.

Baruma takes a wide angle view of the events from a journalistic and intellectual vantage point. He is not on the side of limiting immigration or restricting liberties, nor does he underestimate the problems that exist where cultural and religious beliefs are at opposite ends of the spectrum. Secular principles must be defended, while religious freedoms are maintained. Dialogue should be left open and cooperation sought. These are complex issues, not only for the Netherlands but in many places where the world has grown smaller and people have mingled.

I am very glad I read this book. I have a clearer picture in my mind of the events leading up to and the people involved in the murder of Theo van Gogh. This book provides nuances to my hero worship of Ayaan Hirsi Ali, which is not a bad thing. Multiple perspectives always temper hero worship, I've found! I look forward to reading more by Ian Buruma.

Great and nuanced book about the problems of multiculturalism in Holland. No easy answers for complex problems.

Well-written but slightly fascistic book :)

This is fairly superficial to be honest - it's lack of depth gave the feeling that it was incomplete.

What was missing was a look at what the Quran *actually* says. By not going to the root of the problem, he makes the exercise of analysis futile - instead, we just get opinions from people promoting personal interests one way or the other.

What's said is fine, but I don't think anyone would come away feeling they've gained any insight from reading this.

In 2004, Theo van Gogh (great great something or other of Vincent), filmmaker and professional polemicist was murdered by an Islamic fundamentalist. This book is partly about him – about what led to his death and what came after – but it’s mostly about the Netherlands as a microcosm of the intellectual and political friction of European ideals and Islamic fundamentalism. The book profiles notable Muslim critics – the racists, the atheists, the culturalists, the feminists. Van Gogh rates the title, but for my money this is mostly a book about Ayaan Hirsi Ali, and the broader intellectual context for the tensions arising as Muslim immigrants continue arriving in Europe.

A brilliant book, and nothing short of riveting. It made me angry; it made my head ache; it exhausted me; it frustrated me. There’s so much perspicacity packed into this slim volume. Buruma spends most of it recounting significant social movements with pithy accuracy, and the rest casting an unflinching eye over scholars, politicians, critics, activists, fundamentalists, and bystanders. He talks about immigration, he talks about religion, he talks about violence, he talks about activism, he talks about culture and multiculturalism and the pushback and racism. He is deliberate and lightly mocking throughout, and absolutely no one is spared.

He does have a tendency to treat minority groups as one uniform body, but even this is done with deliberate irony. It’s only appropriate, after all, when characterizing how Turkish and Moroccan immigrants are differently perceived. No, my real problem with this book was Theo van Gogh. Van Gogh was, well. How do I put this delicately? I hated him. He firmly believed that it’s impossible for the children of the Enlightenment to live in peace with Islamic fundamentalists, but more importantly the way he expressed that opinion was nothing short of loathsome. Buruma does his best in showing that Van Gogh was a more general dissident than a specifically offensive one, and to place him in the context of the rhetoric of abusive criticism (it’s an honest-to-God thing, really), but for once he seems to have missed the essential point. Van Gogh once said of a Jewish critic who had come to the defense of a friend he’d attacked that she, “has wet dreams of being fucked by Dr. Mengele.” That’s one of the more mild comments. Buruma comes right out and says that Van Gogh was not a racist, but I’m sorry, propounding hate speech makes you complicit in hate. Full stop.

Anyway. I’m getting sidetracked. That’s one wobble of perception in a book otherwise painfully clear-sighted, fearlessly willing to face complication head-on. It didn’t quite address the question of criticism in the way I was anticipating – someone, somewhere has written an intelligent, insightful piece on the seemingly inextricable knot of racism and anti-multiculturalism/cultural criticism, and the problem of how cultural insiders and outsiders can collaborate in criticism. This is not that book, but that’s okay because the book it is will be lingering with me for a long, long time.