Dutch Tolerance Finished?
In Amsterdam the Queen's Birthday April 30 is a very big deal, when the whole city becomes one big street party.
Koninginnedag, as it's called, is also very, very gay, as the city shuts up shop for the day, the streets and canalsides fill with market stalls, the bars stay open all night, people dress up (mainly in orange) and everyone has fun.
Not so much fun this year for a couple of gay models taking part in a fashion parade, allegedly beaten up by a bunch of Muslim youths.
It's the latest in a series of assaults in the once-tolerant city that was my home for a number of years. Mind you, Dutch 'tolerance' is not quite what you may imagine it to be.
When I lived there, no-one would try in any way to prevent you from being and acting as gay as a goose, but having granted you that licence, anti-gay Amsterdammers always felt free to loudly carp, criticise and insult you for being gay, and you were expected to take it on the chin.
The same principle allowed you to carp, criticise, insult and argue back.
It wasn't the polite English version of tolerance, where 'we don't discuss politics or religion at the dinner table, thank you' - but once you got used to it, it was quite fun. Though you did need to grow a considerably thicker skin.
That wouldn't be enough nowadays, it seems.
Now you need body armour.
Koninginnedag, as it's called, is also very, very gay, as the city shuts up shop for the day, the streets and canalsides fill with market stalls, the bars stay open all night, people dress up (mainly in orange) and everyone has fun.
Not so much fun this year for a couple of gay models taking part in a fashion parade, allegedly beaten up by a bunch of Muslim youths.
It's the latest in a series of assaults in the once-tolerant city that was my home for a number of years. Mind you, Dutch 'tolerance' is not quite what you may imagine it to be.
When I lived there, no-one would try in any way to prevent you from being and acting as gay as a goose, but having granted you that licence, anti-gay Amsterdammers always felt free to loudly carp, criticise and insult you for being gay, and you were expected to take it on the chin.
The same principle allowed you to carp, criticise, insult and argue back.
It wasn't the polite English version of tolerance, where 'we don't discuss politics or religion at the dinner table, thank you' - but once you got used to it, it was quite fun. Though you did need to grow a considerably thicker skin.
That wouldn't be enough nowadays, it seems.
Now you need body armour.
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