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H-C Strache, leader of Austria's Freedom Party (from Viennese Jesse Alexander's blog it ain't bunk)
A matinee idol is how the Vienna Review described Heinz-Christian Strache’s appearance on campaign posters in June last year. His Freedom Party went on to win 27% of the votes in Vienna’s October election.
Well dressed, articulate and on the rise – continental Europe’s far right leaders produce slick and sophisticated material. BBC Radio 4 has a two-parter Driving on the Right and this Tuesday’s programme (4pm) will cover Austria and Germany.
Last week the focus was further north. A Mexican, who has lived and worked in Denmark for 8 years and is married to a Dane, is finding it impossible to obtain a permanent residence permit. The new regulations have been brought in under pressure from the Danish People’s Party, who hold the balance of power in parliament. In Sweden, a member of the Sweden Democrats took the BBC reporter to a part of town with a higher proportion of Muslims, but stayed in her car – with her two Great Danes – out of a mixture of reluctance and fear.
Concern over migration to Denmark and Sweden (in particular by Muslim migrants), a perceived lack of integration and pressure on welfare benefits, and what came over as a sentimental longing for their culture to stay the same seemed to be at the heart of the populist parties’ appeal.
It wasn’t clear how these two countries welcome new arrivals nor what opportunities there are to become part of Swedish or Danish society.
The leader of the English Defence League, Stephen Lennon, was interviewed on BBC TV’s Newsnight before the EDL’s protest in Luton on 5th February. EDL protests have a history of violence – boots not suits – and their followers are not generally described as matinee idols. Jeremy Paxman’s rather sneery interview manner pointed up the class gap between the likes of Paxman and the EDL’s membership; it did little to tease out what Lennon’s underlying concerns were or why a whole raft of worries – from crime to the protection of gay and women’s rights, drugs, terrorism and prostitution – appear to be fixed only on ‘militant Islam’, rather than the usual wide and complex range of wicked issues that exercise policy makers.
The Swiss referendum on the building of minarets and niqab bans in other parts of Europe have knock-on effects in the UK, but we have yet to see much mainstreaming of far right politics: the British National Party’s seat in the European Parliament is about it. Nick Griffin, the BNP leader, may be a hero to his followers but has very little credibility as a national politician.
Heinz-Christian Strache, 2009 (Manfred Werner, Wikimedia Commons)
It is hard to imagine anyone in the UK taking seriously someone who waves a large cross at a proposed site for a new Islamic centre – but Heinz-Christian Strache has found it a vote-winner in Vienna.
So why are significant numbers of voters across Europe falling for it?
I was talking last week to someone who works ecumenically in Nordic, Baltic and other European countries. His view is that when Christians become less confident in their own faith they are more susceptible to feeling threatened by people with a more secure and informed identity. So insecure, ‘cultural’ European Christians find it difficult to accept Muslims from other parts of the world – who seem to be more confident in who they are and why they live the way they do.
If this is true, it could also be true of people of any religious or philosophical tradition – a received set of values, whether religious or not, is not as useful as a worked-through, fully-owned religious, ethical or moral position in being able to relate positively to people from a different tradition. The differences (perhaps because between two known positions they are measurable) are therefore seen to be rather small in comparison to all the commonalities, and appear less significant. If you’re not quite sure where you stand, the distance may seem that much greater and even unbridgeable. It might also prompt you to define your own identity in relation to the ‘other’, rather than in a more rounded way.
Listening to the Danish politician on the programme speak about the necessity of listening to far-right concerns and responding to them, rather than dismissing them out of hand, I hope that Newsnight’s next interview with the EDL rightly condemns the violent protests, but engages more fully with their concerns.
Euroblogger Jon Worth has written an informed reflection on the programme, Nordic politics and culture which is well worth a read.
The next programme is on Radio 4 on Tuesday 15th March at 4pm.
Adele Bloch-Bauer by Gustav Klimt (detail)
I spent three weeks in Vienna as a teenager in the 70s and loved it: Klimt, the Ringstrasse, Blumen stalls, Cat Stevens tapes and being puzzled that almost everyone wore brown or beige. The buildings still hadn’t been completely repaired from war damage. Anything and anyone on the other side of the Iron Curtain – and Vienna was pretty close – seemed very remote and quite foreign, something which I now realise had quite a marked effect on my education. I still feel estranged from the history, languages and culture of central and eastern Europe.
Quite a few of the Klimt paintings on display then have now gone (I saw one in Manhattan not long ago) – rightly returned to their Jewish owners (or descendants) and sold on. It didn’t cross my mind to check where these wonderful works of art had come from. Even now, as the Jewish Chronicle reports, Holocaust restitution claims can progress slowly.
"During July 2010, people in Vienna will be working in the name of hope, progress, education and tolerance. Thank you for being part of it."
I shared the sumptuous sleeper from Zurich to Vienna with two women cyclists from the US and a Swiss woman (originally from Miami) who commutes weekly between Switzerland where she works, and Vienna where her boyfriend lives. Her boyfriend is called Georg (“Gay-org”) and when I heard his name I was immediately back in von Trapp/Christopher Plummer land.
Vienna is a mix of formal and friendly – people are well-dressed but happy to chat. The city centre is clean, tidy and oozes prosperity. Continental cities tend to house their poorer residents on the outskirts. ‘Banlieues’ seemed (at the Caux event) to be shorthand for ‘inner city’, whereas the outskirts or suburbs of London tend to be middle class and comfortably off. My guest house had a poster (right) up in the breakfast room which looked hopeful.
I overheard businessmen at a café talking about the Europe-wide debate on Islamic headgear for women. “Tyrolean grandmas have been wearing headscarves for centuries”, one of them said. Islam has been recognised by the state since 1912, so there is no question of banning scarves or veils in Austria.
An Austrian Muslim family was visiting Stephansdom, the C14th cathedral, while I was there.
Stephansdom is the main cathedral and the historic centre of the city. All the street numbers start there and fan outwards, so the central place of Christianity (mostly Roman Catholicism) in Austrian history is evident. I met an Austrian Muslim family there who spoke English and who seemed quite at home. I tried to remember if I’d seen many conservatively-dressed Muslim families wandering around St Paul’s or Westminster Abbey. I’ve often talked to London Muslims who haven’t visited our historic cathedrals. The Austrian family said relations were good between Christians and Muslims.
Swimming in the Danube
Next stop, a huge mosque on the other side of the Danube. On the way, I walked along the riverside and was amazed at how many people were swimming and lazing about in the hot sun. Wild swimming obviously not a problem here. I met a swimmer from Afghanistan who has been resident for a while. He’s happy to be an Austrian citizen and goes – infrequently – to a different mosque to the one I’m heading for.
Islamic Centre at Neue Donau
The Islamic Centre at Neue Donau was built with Saudi money in the late 1970s. I asked/gestured as to whether I could go inside (it wasn’t prayer time, so only a handful of worshippers) and was shown in. There is a women’s gallery so I stayed there for a while in the silence.
Shakespeare & Co, Vienna (no particular relation to the Paris one)
By chance I came across Shakespeare & Co, an English language bookshop which declares, “we search and strive for intercultural understanding “. I was in heaven. It not only had far too many enticing books, but lots of leaflets and information on women’s groups and current affairs – perfect for a passing visitor like me. As well as finding out about Women Without Borders, I picked up a booklet which took me through the old Jewish part of town, so I spent the rest of the day in Leopoldstadt.
The Vienna Synagogue - the only synagogue to survive WWII. I saw armed police posted at each end of the street on Friday evening as worshippers gathered.
The bookshop was in the oldest part of town, where the Vienna Synagogue is – the only synagogue to survive WWII. I called in and later talked to one of the rabbis there. There seems to be quite a lot of bi-lateral and tri-lateral (Abrahamic) interreligious discussion – mainly theological – taking place amongst leaders, but I didn’t hear about anything that involved lay people, or the general public, in getting to know one another and enjoying each other’s company.
The historical trail in Leopoldstadt took me past a lot of buildings that just aren’t there any more. There were brass memorial plates sunk into the pavement which seemed a bit odd – plaques are usually on the walls. I was told that to put anything on the walls, it would be necessary to get the permission of everyone living in the new building – and that was highly unlikely, even now.
So I walked around, trying to spot the brass in the concrete and trying to imagine the Turkish Temple (a glorious Middle Eastern style synagogue – the Sephardic Jews had Ottoman citizenship and they celebrated the birthday of the Sultan and the Austrian Emperor on the same day each year) where a bland block of flats now stands.
Massive pillars showing the size of the facade of the destroyed Leopoldstadt Temple - there were nearly 50 synagogues in Vienna before WWII and only one survived
The sheer numbers, the viciousness of the attacks (both the organised and the “wild”) and the destruction of an ordered and sophisticated way of life still deadens the senses when you imagine what it must have been like – both for the Jews and for their persecutors.
Plaque (the only one I found that wasn't on the ground) showing where the huge Leopoldstadt Temple was
It certainly peps up a determination to be on the look-out for early signs of anything similar happening today. Having only recently visited Pakistan and heard about the violence towards religious minorities there, it gave me an extra nudge towards positive action.
Vienna, with all its music, art, philosophy – it seems impossible and no wonder nobody foresaw what was about to happen. Even now, Vienna’s tourist board website doesn’t mention what happened to the Turkish Temple in its press release on an upcoming exhibition. There’s a strange emptiness surrounding the whole subject.
I finished the day in a tiny kosher restaurant, Milk & Honey, with a plate of delicious fresh fish and fine company. An American mother seemed to be encouraging her two sons (in their 20s?) to swap Facebook details with the waitress. My children wouldn’t have put up with that, but there was a light-hearted and warm atmosphere and I wouldn’t be surprised if they’re on messaging terms by now.
The next day I was lucky to meet up with Elaine from Women Without Borders – but more of that later.
Synagogue entrance in Vienna
We barely have these in London, but they are all over continental cities: street entrances to late C19th/early C20th apartment buildings of four or more stories.
Entrance in Prague - obligatory graffiti but beautful interior
They have large double doors, often leading to a small courtyard at the back. Originally for carriages, a Fiat Cinquecento would be your best bet nowadays.
In Andalusia, the Magreb and all the way through the Middle East to the Indian subcontinent, older doorways of this kind almost always lead to a cool, enclosed courtyard with rooms or apartments leading off the airy space on several stories.
Caravanserai, now an inn, Djerba, Tunisia
Ancient caravanserai have a similar layout: trading niches on the ground floor and rooms for the travellers to rest in around the first floor.
Goethe Institut, Berlin. Wooden doors and coffered ceiling
All the windows and doors are on the inside of the courtyard.
They were (and are) common along the silk routes and mentioned by Herodotus.
My son and I stayed in converted caravanserai in Fez and Djerba on our way to the Libyan border.
Everything and everyone is locked up at night by the huge, heavy double doors at the entrance.
I like the hiddenness of these trading places, living quarters and courtyard gardens. The often shabby street entrances give way to beautiful interiors, filled with life.
It’s probably just memories of The Secret Garden or some deep wombic yearning, but the distinction between inside and outside, private and public, day and night, lends itself to a naturally ordered way of life, which is not central London’s strong suit – much as I love the chaos.
