Three centuries after his death, the philosopher is enjoying a new vogue in The Netherlands, which is finally paying tribute to its native son with a series of monuments, websites, conferences and exhibitions. Everyone seems to cherry-pick his work and put their own slant on it - which might not have thrilled the philosopher himself. The two monuments for Baruch de Spinoza in Amsterdam are poles apart: a massive statue by Nicolas Dings near city hall and an interactive wood construction by artist Thomas Hirshhorn in Bijlmer [a multicultural suburb]. Everyman's a Spinozist these days. Spinoza even found himself flung into the fray about immigration and the multicultural society after the fallout from 9/11 and the murder of filmmaker Theo van Gogh. With two cardinal concepts centre-stage: tolerance and freedom of expression. In the course of this controversy, some said the overtolerance extended to Muslims was jeopardising freedom of expression. The left retorted that neoconservatives were exploiting the principle of freedom of thought to undermine tolerance, a fundamental value of democratic society. It was a dialogue of the deaf and not exactly a rekindling of Spinoza's ideas. And yet Spinoza (1632-1677) has seen a striking renascence of late. Last year British polymath George Steiner recounted how he had looked in vain for monuments to Spinoza in Holland. No-one could tell him where to go. He was utterly appalled at the Dutch indifference to their greatest philosopher. Macedonian writer Goce Smilevski was similarly shocked. The young people he asked about Spinoza replied, "Never heard of the guy." Smilevski's advice: invest in philosophy classes at Dutch schools!
Three centuries after his death, the philosopher is enjoying a new vogue in The Netherlands, which is finally paying tribute to its native son with a series of monuments, websites, conferences and exhibitions. Everyone seems to cherry-pick his work and put their own slant on it - which might not have thrilled the philosopher himself.
The two monuments for Baruch de Spinoza in Amsterdam are poles apart: a massive statue by Nicolas Dings near city hall and an interactive wood construction by artist Thomas Hirshhorn in Bijlmer [a multicultural suburb]. Everyman's a Spinozist these days.
Spinoza even found himself flung into the fray about immigration and the multicultural society after the fallout from 9/11 and the murder of filmmaker Theo van Gogh. With two cardinal concepts centre-stage: tolerance and freedom of expression. In the course of this controversy, some said the overtolerance extended to Muslims was jeopardising freedom of expression. The left retorted that neoconservatives were exploiting the principle of freedom of thought to undermine tolerance, a fundamental value of democratic society. It was a dialogue of the deaf and not exactly a rekindling of Spinoza's ideas.
And yet Spinoza (1632-1677) has seen a striking renascence of late. Last year British polymath George Steiner recounted how he had looked in vain for monuments to Spinoza in Holland. No-one could tell him where to go. He was utterly appalled at the Dutch indifference to their greatest philosopher. Macedonian writer Goce Smilevski was similarly shocked. The young people he asked about Spinoza replied, "Never heard of the guy." Smilevski's advice: invest in philosophy classes at Dutch schools!
One hundred and fifty years after his death, the Austrian Empire's ambassador in chief remains politically incorrect. With the Lisbon treaty, however, the twenty-seven member states are recreating 1814's Congress of Vienna that gave rise to modern Europe, argues Czech daily Lidové Noviny. Do you fear that once they ratify the Lisbon Treaty, the big nations will get along well amongst themselves and discount the small ones? That under their baton Europe will be reduced to a "concert of great powers"? Today we remember Prince Metternich, the man who demonstrated the strengths and weaknesses of such a policy. It is quite astonishing that we do not celebrate a Metternich year, although 2009 was proclaimed the Year of Darwin. We celebrate Darwin for two reasons: he was born in 1809 and published its magnum opus, On the Origin of Species, in 1859. Those two years were watersheds in Metternich's career: he became Austria's Foreign Minister in 1809 (de facto, executive head, and later State Chancellor), and he died on June 11, 1859. He was lain to rest in the family tomb at Plasy, in western Bohemia.
One hundred and fifty years after his death, the Austrian Empire's ambassador in chief remains politically incorrect. With the Lisbon treaty, however, the twenty-seven member states are recreating 1814's Congress of Vienna that gave rise to modern Europe, argues Czech daily Lidové Noviny.
Do you fear that once they ratify the Lisbon Treaty, the big nations will get along well amongst themselves and discount the small ones? That under their baton Europe will be reduced to a "concert of great powers"? Today we remember Prince Metternich, the man who demonstrated the strengths and weaknesses of such a policy.
It is quite astonishing that we do not celebrate a Metternich year, although 2009 was proclaimed the Year of Darwin. We celebrate Darwin for two reasons: he was born in 1809 and published its magnum opus, On the Origin of Species, in 1859. Those two years were watersheds in Metternich's career: he became Austria's Foreign Minister in 1809 (de facto, executive head, and later State Chancellor), and he died on June 11, 1859. He was lain to rest in the family tomb at Plasy, in western Bohemia.
