Maastricht: Birthplace of the euro
Crown Prince Willem-Alexander: Heir apparent. Likable Prince Willem-Alexander (b. 1967) was a bit of a playboy before he married Argentine beauty Máxima Zorreguieta in 2002. That marriage, too, caused a furor: Máxima’s father was a minister in Argentina’s 1970s military junta; Papa wasn’t invited to the royal wedding.
VINCENT VAN GOGH (1853–1890)
Everybody knows he was a tortured creator who hacked off his ear, and that his love of absinthe may have been the reason his palette was so verdant and bright. But who knew that Dutchman Vincent van Gogh signed works with his first name, because so few could pronounce “Gogh” (rhymes with “lock”)?12 Or that he may have sired a child with a prostitute whom he wanted to marry?13 The former preacher, whom the church asked to put down his Bible because he was thumping it too fervently, actually did have some friends—Toulouse-Lautrec among them—despite his incessant talking that drove many mad. Van Gogh had a dream: to start an artists’ colony in Provence. That’s how the Dutch painter ended up in the yellow house in Arles, where Gauguin came to stay for six weeks in 1888, during which time Van Gogh whipped up a whopping forty paintings while Gauguin churned out twenty. Cranky Van Gogh chased after Gauguin with a razor, but decided instead to slash off his own ear. He duly presented the bloody ear to his beloved at the nearby brothel—she fainted in response—and from that point on Vincent spent most of his time in a nearby asylum. “Vincent was hospitalized,” wrote Gauguin. “He wants to sleep with the patients, chases the nurses, and washed himself in the coal-bucket.”14 His mental health deteriorating, Van Gogh shot himself in 1890; some say that his French physician, Dr. Gachet, was next to his bed, sketching Van Gogh when he passed away, and that Gachet sneaked out carrying several mysterious boxes, which some believe contained Van Gogh’s notebooks.15 Although the artist exhibited in only four shows while alive—selling only one painting—Van Gogh’s posthumous success is the result of his sister-in-law Johanna, devoted wife of his brother, Theo. Johanna held on to Van Gogh’s paintings, which, during his lifetime, were shrugged off as the works of a madman, which, admittedly, they were.
Curiosity: Most of the U.S. flight schools where the September 11 hijackers trained were owned by Dutchmen who don’t know how to fly themselves.
Cees Nooteboom: Travel columnist, novelist, playwright, and poet known for such works as The Roads to Santiago and All Souls’ Day, Nooteboom (b. 1933) is the best shot for a Nobel prize.
Paul Verhoeven: Director of twenty films, he bounces around in styles: Soldier of Orange was an acclaimed historical drama about the Dutch Resistance; Basic Instinct was a provocative psychological thriller; Robocop was schlock. Now he’s delving into mysteries, specifically One Step Behind by Henning Mankell.
SHELL GAME
Royal Dutch/Shell—a Dutch-Anglo enterprise that made over $306 billion in 200516—likes to advertise itself as the jolly green-friendly giant of oil, but that’s whitewash. The company’s most questionable dealings focus on Nigeria, where the petrol giant’s heavily polluting operations leak almost 10,000 barrels of petroleum a year.17 Royal Dutch/Shell has been accused of bribing officials,18 supporting government attacks on whomever threatens the oil biz, and is allegedly implicated in the 1995 government-ordered hanging of eight Nigerian activists, including writer Ken Saro-Wiwa, who denounced the oil company’s sloppy operations. In 2002, Nigerian operations were temporarily shut down by local women called the Mamas, who demanded the company give jobs to their husbands and sons, clean up the petrol-soaked ground, and extend electricity across the road to their villages. Shell called police and the showdown turned ugly: the women’s group claims several female protesters disappeared and are believed to be dead. In January 2004, Royal Dutch/Shell admitted that, whoops, it had overstated oil reserves by 20 percent. Shareholders are furious about the 4.5 billion barrels of oil that apparently aren’t really there.
Desiderius Erasmus: Scholar of the Dutch Renaissance, professor Erasmus (1466–1536) translated the New Testament, wrote assorted books and essays, and is described as a humanist. Hard to tell, given his scathing assessment of Dutchmen in his 1509 book The Praise of Folly: “[Dutch merchants] lie, perjure themselves, steal, cheat and mislead the public. Nevertheless… there is no lack of flattering friars to kowtow to them and call them Right Honorable in public. The motive of the friars is clear: they are after some of the loot… Perhaps it would be wise to pass over the theologians in silence.… They behave as if they are already in heaven; they look down pityingly on other men as so many worms.”19
DRINKING MATTERS
The Dutch accidentally invented grape-based brandy: When a sixteenth-century shipper ordered that water be evaporated from Bordeaux to pack more onto ships, he created brandewijn—“burnt wine”—in the process. However, the sexiest Dutch contribution to the bar shelf is potent genever. The Dutch claim that it cures jet lag, knocks the nip out of winter, and is an alcoholic Viagra—and it’s the libation poured out to celebrate weddings, holidays, and births. Similar to gin when young, genever doesn’t stop there: special “genever bars” are brimming with neon-colored varieties flavored with coffee, cocoa, cinnamon, berries, and plums and decorated with rose petals or glittering flakes of real gold and silver. The dazzling colors and high-octane content (which gets you woozy fast) lend themselves to festivity, as does the centuries-old ritual for drinking genever: you must take the first sip from the glass—without hands—while bending over the bar.
News you can understand: Radio Netherlands runs a site that keeps one abreast of current events—and history—in English: www.radionetherlands.nl
10. AUSTRIA
(Österreich)
Dancing at the Edge
FAST FACTS
Country: Republic of Austria; Republik Österreich
Capital: Vienna (Wien)
Government: Federal republic
Independence: 1156 Duchy of Austria founded; 1866 pushed out of German Federation; 1918 Republic proclaimed; 1955 independent of post-WWII Allied occupation
Population: 8,193,000 (2006 estimate)
Head of State: President Heinz Fischer (2004)
Head of Government: Chancellor Wolfgang Schüssel (2000)
Elections: President elected by direct popular vote, six-year term; chancellor appointed from majority party by president
Name of Parliament: Federal Assembly; Bundesversammlung
Ethnicity: 91% Austrian; 4% former Yugoslavs (Croat, Slovene, Serbs, Bosniaks); 2% Turk; 2% other; 1% German
Religion: 74% Roman Catholic; 12% none; 5% Protestant; 5% Muslim; 4% other
Language: German
Literacy: 98%
Famous Exports: Croissant, waltzing, Hitler
Economic Big Boy: OMV (gas and oil); 2004 total sales: $9.62 billion1
Per Capita GDP: $32,900 (2005 estimate)
Unemployment: 5.2% (January 2006 Eurostat figure)
Percentage in Poverty: 6% (2004 estimate)
EU Status: Member since 1995; politically sanctioned for seven months in 2000
Currency: Euro
Quick Tour
From Vienna’s gleaming baroque palaces, topped with golden-winged sculptures, to the snowy hills of the Tirol, where skiers bundle into farmhouses for hot schnapps, from the medieval Christmas markets in Ganz to Carinthia’s crystalline lakes and valleys filled with church steeples stretching towards God, Österreich is the old world personified. The land the Habsburgs built up as imperial headquarters is considered more German than Germany—even Austria’s language is closer to true Germanic roots—and Austria is locked in her past.
THE COFFEEHOUSE
Whether you’re sitting in a velvet chair in an austere, dark-paneled café, or at a sweet shop brimming with shiny chocolates, raisin-stuffed pastries, and candied violets in old fashioned tins, a coffee in Vienna is always a production. As though destined for royalty, it’s served in fine china and delivered on a silver tray alongside a sweet, min
iature pitcher of thick cream, small glass of water, and bowl of decorative sugar lumps—and whether you ordered a mélange, a cappucino, or a brauner, it usually comes slathered with a mountain of whipped cream. It might cost $4; it might cost $8. But that seems a trifle to soak in the artistry and high culture of this land, famous for Haydn’s exacting symphonies, the lilting works of Mozart, Gustav Klimt’s paintings of liquid gold, Sigmund Freud’s heady analysis, and the waltzes of Johann Strauss. The European coffeehouse came to life here (after attacking Turks brought coffee beans), serving as center of literature and political discussion—and Vienna still emanates the brooding spirit of a self-absorbed artist: everywhere you look, moody pale-faced young people are carrying violins and cellos, most wearing the pained look of deep thinkers composing symphonies in their heads as they contemplate the coffee set before them.
Waiters still address customers as “sir” or “madam” in the chandeliered coffeehouses, where wall-sized portraits of royalty still hang—and where Austrians still while away hours reading newspapers of the world. At the annual Opera Ball, gentlemen in tailcoats still kiss the hands of ladies in puffy gowns before requesting a dance, and the countryside’s wine gardens—heurigen—still serve the local plonk with sausage and cheese just as they have for a thousand years. Sunday is still the day when Austrians stroll in nature, as has been their habit for centuries; every day of the week, Mozart masterpieces still float through the alpine air in his hometown Salzburg (still as lovely as when he lived there), and every December 31, tens of thousands waltz to Strauss’s Blue Danube in the squares.
ANTINUCLEAR AUSTRIA
Despite her reputation for being stuffy, bureaucratic, and entrenched in another era, Austria is progressive in many ways. In 1978, Austria outlawed nuclear power and is still vehemently antinuke: road signs indicate how many miles away one is from Chernobyl and from Czech nuclear plant, Temelin—a symbol of the Soviet legacy of shoddy plants. Austrians frequently demonstrate against the Czech plant, sometimes shutting down the border between the two countries in protest. Austria’s righteousness is a bit hypocritical since Austria does receive electricity from nuclear power; energy from Hungary’s nuclear plants is transmitted to Austria via electrical grids.
But for all the jewels of her history—the pageantry, enduring rituals, and architectural treasures—Austria is still remembered for her Nazi past—a shadow that lingers and a trapdoor that keeps opening no matter what Austria does to obscure it. Which is why what happened in 2000 caused a worldwide shock, the tremors of which are still felt.
READING BETWEEN THE LINES OF CENTRIFUGAL FORCES AND INEXORABLE PRESSURES
Austria’s discomfort with her past is obvious in this strange summary of history from the Austrian Embassy site, which glosses over Austria’s role in the two major wars that defined her:2
“In 1867 Emperor Franz Joseph acceded to demands for the creation of the Double Monarchy of Austria-Hungary. This conglomerate entity disintegrated at the end of the First World War, not least as a result of the centrifugal forces of nationalist self-assertion. Now the rump of what had once been an empire, Austria was proclaimed a Republic in 1918. But reduced to the dimension of a small state, it had difficulty finding its place in the new European order. In 1938 Austria succumbed to the inexorable pressures of Hitler’s Germany and internal instability. With the help of the Allied Powers, Austria was revived as a Republic in 1945 but remained occupied by the armies of France, Britain, the Soviet Union and the United States until 1955…”
As a result of World War I, which she initiated with Germany, the Austrian Empire lost her monarchy and 87 percent of her territory. As a result of World War II, during which Austria physically joined Nazi Germany and fought on the Nazi side, Austria was occupied by Allied forces for ten years and was forced to become officially neutral.
Since 1955, when Allied occupiers shoved off, Austria has in many ways been a model country. For instance, the government directly involves the people in decision making: sozialpartnerschaft, trade unions, corporate heads, farmers, economists, think tanks, and academics all work to shape national economic strategy. In the postwar era, Austria soared as one of Europe’s most affluent countries, with nary a corruption scandal to show for it—and the European Union welcomed Austria as a member in 1995. Neutral Austria, edged by Communist countries, was the door to the free West—and welcomed many who escaped from Communism. Two hundred thousand Hungarians fled here after the Revolution of 1956; about 162,000 Czechs and Slovaks arrived after 1968’s Prague Spring frosted over, 150,000 Poles showed up when Solidarity was banned in 1981; and a quarter of a million Russian Jews came through en route to Israel between 1973 and 1989. Fleeing civil war, 100,000 Bosniaks arrived in the 1990s, along with tens of thousands of other former Yugoslavians. Some moved on, but many stayed: 12 percent of Austrian citizens are foreign-born—one of the highest proportions in Europe—and over 700,000 temporary workers are from other countries.3
The Austrian government was the first to alert the world to the genocide in Bosnia during the 1990s.
But Austria usually doesn’t make news for her generosity—her humanitarian “Neighbor in Need” funding during the Yugoslavian war, for example, or the Life Ball, Europe’s biggest annual fundraiser for AIDS. The country remembered for starting World War I (with Germany) and then again embracing Germany as a World War II partner typically snags headlines only when she’s done something else wrong. Most recently, that mistake came in the form of loudmouthed Jörg Haider. In 2000, the leader of the ultraconservative and nationalist Freedom Party—who had praised Nazis—leapt into national politics after garnering over a quarter of the Austrian vote. Austria soon found herself in the international dog house, collared with political sanctions and kicked around like a stray—and the experience still haunts Austria today.
HAIDER’S HOT AIR
Jörg Haider (pronounced HY-der) ain’t shy.4 The Porsche-driving, bungee-jumping, designer-clothes-wearing son of two Hitler enthusiasts first captured the attention of former Nazis as a teenager who gave rousing speeches lauding Austria’s Nazi-supporting role in World War II. Many Austrians prefer to forget that era—or to portray Austria as a helpless victim—but for Haider, the alliance with Hitler’s Germany was a source of pride. He joined the hard-right Freedom Party—an offshoot of a party begun by former Nazis—and was leading it by 1986. He began making news as governor of southern state Carinthia. Haider praised Hitler’s labor policy, and called former members of the Nazi SS “dear friends” who were “decent people of good character” deserving Austria’s “honor and respect.” And all hell broke loose when he called concentration camps “punishment camps.”5 For his remarks, which he later retracted, he was ejected from the governor’s seat in 1991, but eight years later he was voted back in. This time, he waved a new banner—Austria First—and launched antiforeigner tirades. With Austria’s unemployment rate at 5 percent—the highest since the war—many were listening. The country should seal the borders, Haider opined, and send immigrants already there back home. France’s Jean-Marie Le Pen had said the same, but Haider was the first elected official to push the idea so loudly while in office—and given his previous pro-Nazi statements, it rang an alarm bell across Europe. And that was before he’d even made a move toward the national arena.
Austrian politics usually work like a well-rehearsed waltz, with the same steps repeated every election. Left-leaning Social Democrats (drawing power from labor) usually win the majority of votes and take the more powerful chancellorship; the right-leaning People’s Party (backed by big business and Catholics) usually takes the presidential seat, and the two usually dance together in a ruling coalition that never achieves much—except to keep out other parties. So much for snoozy predictability: in 1999, when Jörg Haider cut in with his radically racist Freedom Party, the music stopped. The world looked on in horror as he crashed Austria’s exclusive power soirée. Nabbing a whopping 27 percent of the 1999 parliamentary vote, Haider’s par
ty kicked the People’s Party to the number three spot. An unforeseen power shuffle ensued—some called it a coup—that tainted Austria’s image around the world. That year, the Social Democrats and the People’s Party didn’t form their usual coalition. Instead, People’s Party head Wolfgang Schüssel formed a coalition with Haider’s Freedom Party; as a result, Schüssel nabbed the chancellorship, presiding over Austria’s first conservative government in thirty years. The response: outrage, starting in Vienna, where thousands of demonstrators went berserk—an unusual event in a country where, until recently, protests rarely occurred.
Inaugurations are sedate affairs in Austria—usually. In February 2000, when Chancellor Schüssel stepped forward at the ceremony in Vienna with new coalition member Jörg Haider, thousands of Austrians blew up, pounding on drums, pushing past the top-hatted bouncers, marching into the ultra-refined Sachers Hotel, and bursting into the National Theatre to disrupt a performance. Protesters pelted police with eggs and attacked trams—and the politicians scurried away from the ceremony using Vienna’s famous tunnels. Every Friday for the next year, thousands marched to show their disgust at Jörg Haider.
What Every American Should Know About Europe Page 25