There are two murders in “Murder in Amsterdam.” The first took place on May 6, 2002, when an animal-rights advocate, for obscure reasons, gunned down Pim Fortuyn, a charismatic politician with a populist program combining law-and-order conservatism, opposition to immigration and gay liberation. About a year and a half later a young Dutch Muslim of Moroccan descent, incensed by a film critical of Islam, shot the filmmaker-provocateur Theo van Gogh dead in broad daylight. As a parting gesture, he pinned a manifesto to the twitching body with a knife. It was all, as the prime minister of the Netherlands put it, “un-Dutch.”
Well, perhaps more Dutch than it seemed, Ian Buruma proposes in his shrewd, subtly argued inquiry into the tensions and resentments underlying two of the most shocking events in the recent history of the Netherlands. For one thing, both killers traveled to the crime scene by bicycle. More seriously, both murders represented the sort of highly pitched moral confrontation that could be regarded as a Dutch specialty. The killings were, in a sense, “principled murders.”
Mr. Buruma writes ,“It is a characteristic of Calvinism to hold moral principles too rigidly, and this might be considered a vice as well as a virtue of the Dutch.” |