Theo van Gogh was a vulgar man. He equally offended all religions, and I loved him for it. Obviously, he was hated for it as well. In Holland, that used to be okay. Long standing etiquette demanded that, no matter how heated a debate, violence was never an option. A silent code that required immense restraint, mutual respect, and was religiously adhered to in my country of birth.
Until a man "defending" his religion was arrogant enough to violate it. Lacking the sophistication to engage in debate, he shot the unarmed Theo Van Gogh eight times at point blank range, then cut his throat.
Like his uncle, who was a resistance fighter executed by the nazis, and unlike his assassin, who surrendered to police, Van Gogh became a martyr for liberty, and freedom of speech.
The reaction of politicians?
"Maybe he shouldn't have insulted the Muslims so much".
It was November 2004, and the shriveling up of Holland's testicles to what eventually would be the size of peas, was well underway.
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Not too long before Van Gogh's death, a disgruntled animal rights activist had triggered the process by murdering the upcoming politician Pim Fortuyn. Fortuyn had risen to fame fairly quick, and embarrassed the ...