I know I’ve been posting a lot of Dutch news lately, but I can’t help myself — I have to put up one more before I turn in.
This is a comment from our Dutch correspondent Sagunto, who was responding to H. Numan’s portion of this morning’s post. It reminds me once again of Wilfred Owen’s poem “The Calls”:
For leaning out last midnight on my sill,
I heard the sighs of men, that have no skill
To speak of their distress, no, nor the will!
A voice I know. And this time I must go.
It seems that Sagunto has both the skill and the will, and is speaking out on behalf of his country.
Here’s what he had to say. I’ve edited it a little bit for spelling, punctuation, and clarity:
“..If some jihadist fundy pops Wilders, rest assured the response would be fierce (to say the least). I expect this might be the trigger incident for a civil war or the beginning of serious ethnic cleansing. It might very well lead to a massive uprising, not from Muslims, but from the Dutch.
“This must be known in Muslim circles as well, so I expect serious organizations (political Muslims in the Netherlands, or Al Qaeda) would not be so stupid as to go that far. The result would be counterproductive..”
I agree completely.
The current rate at which Islamists see their goals realized without any need to resort to violence, or even without them asking, will for the moment probably forestall the violent death of Geert Wilders at the hands of a Muslim, ‘cause it will almost certainly be deemed counter-productive to the cause of jihad.
It is the often neglected part of jihad that’s most destructive, the Islamization of Western society in small steps, the creeping unmaking of our way of life, often through the preemptive self-Islamization of the elites, forced upon the people.
The method of boiling the hapless frog, easy does it, is their most favoured, planning Islam’s Silent Takeover. But no less silent, and unnoticed (or else vehemently denied) by our political elites and their paladins, is the gradual buildup of a reservoir filled with Dutch aboriginal anger, resistance and resolve.
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The level in this inner lake of Dutch defiance is rising fast and it already would suffice to power a rebellion — should Wilders fall victim to the jihadists — of such magnitude that it would totally shatter for generations to come the usual rosy picture of the Dutch as a mild and somewhat naïvely irenic brand of Westerners.
I witnessed the anger of those present at Dam square in the aftermath of the assassination of Theo van Gogh, and that anger has spread and become stronger. The Islamists wouldn’t know what hit them. And they’re aware of that.
The politicians in their fancy managerial dress sense and fear it, and are unsuited to ask the fundamental questions that need to be asked, because they’re afraid of the answer. The answer that they hear in the whispering reeds below. And it’s haunting the dreams of these mandarins and their Muslim clients.
For they represent the tall trees who will be caught by it, when the whispers have turned into a great storm, boiling like surf about the tops of them. And they already cower at the wisdom of a little boy who once remarked to his mother, “Well, why don’t we take away the trees, and then it wouldn’t wind.”
Kind regards from Amsterdam,