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Menace in Europe: Why the Continent's Crisis is America's, Too

Menace in Europe: Why the Continent's Crisis is America's, Too

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by Claire Berlinski

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Old Europe’s new crisis.

Europe, the charming continent of windmills and gondolas. But lately, Europe has become the continent of endless strikes and demonstrations, bombs on the trains and subways, radical Islamic cells in every city, and ghettos so hopeless and violent even the police won’t enter them. In Spain, a terrorist attack prompts


Old Europe’s new crisis.

Europe, the charming continent of windmills and gondolas. But lately, Europe has become the continent of endless strikes and demonstrations, bombs on the trains and subways, radical Islamic cells in every city, and ghettos so hopeless and violent even the police won’t enter them. In Spain, a terrorist attack prompts instant capitulation to the terrorists’ demands. In France, the suburbs go up in flames every night. In Holland, politicians and artists are murdered for speaking frankly about Islamic immigration.

This isn’t the Europe we thought we knew. What’s going on over there?

Traveling overland from London to Istanbul, journalist Claire Berlinski shows why the Continent has lately appeared so bewildering—and often so thoroughly obnoxious—to Americans. Speaking to Muslim immigrants, German rock stars, French cops, and Italian women who have better things to do than have children, she finds that Europe is still, despite everything, in the grip of the same old ancient demons. Anyone who knows the history can sense it: There is something ugly—and familiar—in the air.

But something new is happening as well. Indeed, Europe now confronts—and seems unable to cope with—an entirely new set of troubles. Tracing the ancient conflicts and newly erupting crises, Menace in Europe reveals:

• Why Islamic radicalism and terrorist indoctrination flourish as Europe fails to assimilate millions of Muslim immigrants

• How plummeting birthrates hurtle Europe toward economic and cultural catastrophe

• Why hatred of America has become ubiquitous—onEurope’s streets, in its books, newspapers, and music, and at the highest levels of government

• How long-repressed destructive instincts are suddenly reemerging

• How the death of religious faith has created a hopeless, morally unmoored Europe that clings to anti-Americanism, anti-Semitism, and other dangerous ideologies

• Why the notion of a united Europe is a fantasy and what that means for the United States

In the end, these are not separate issues. Berlinski provocatively demonstrates that Europe’s political and cultural crisis mirrors its profound moral and spiritual crisis.

But this is not just Europe’s problem. Menace in Europe makes clear that the spiritual void at the heart of Europe is ultimately our problem too. And America will pay a terrible price if we continue to ignore it.

Product Details

Crown Publishing Group
Publication date:
Product dimensions:
6.44(w) x 9.46(h) x 1.03(d)

Read an Excerpt

Chapter 1
Europe on Five Dollars a Day
and a Flamethrower

I keep a spiral-bound notebook on my desk filled with miscellaneous notes--the usual collection of ideas that seem insightful at three in the morning but substantially less so at daybreak, ideas that may well have been insightful but have been lost to posterity because my handwriting is indecipherable, scraps of overheard dialogue, observations made from the windows of trains.
One scrawled passage in particular stands out now. The date was July 3, 2005. "Within six months," I wrote, "there will be another major terrorist attack or political assassination in Europe." I am embarrassed to admit that my next thought, apparently, was that this would be inconvenient for me, since it would necessitate making major revisions to this book.
Three days later, Trafalgar Square erupted in celebration at the announcement that London would host the 2012 Olympics. The next morning, as the rush hour drew to a close, four suicide bombers detonated themselves in central London, killing 52 people and injuring 700 more. Papers with headlines from the previous evening
had not yet been pushed off the newsstands: "Blimey! It's London's turn!" said one, and I can only imagine how those jolly words must have appeared to commuters staggering off the smoke-blackened London Tube.
Four more bombings were attempted on the London transport system two weeks later. This time, the bombs failed to detonate and the bombers survived, leaving behind forensic evidence that permitted police to ascertain their identities. Both the living and the dead bombers were British, born and raised--homegrown monsterswho had not yet been apprised of the news that democracies don't breed terrorists. Some were from comfortably affluent families. Some had been living handsomely for years on state benefits. It now appears that al Qaeda, which took credit for the attacks, recruited some of the bombers at a Muslim community center in Leeds--one funded by the British government and the European Union.1
It was revealed in the weeks following the attacks that quite a number of British Muslims do not much care for their fellow Britons. According to a poll conducted shortly after the bombing, a full 32 percent of British Muslims agreed that "Western society is decadent and immoral and Muslims should seek to bring it to an end." Toward that goal, 1 percent--a seemingly small proportion until one considers that this comprises some 16,000 British Muslims--described themselves as willing, even eager, to embrace violence to destroy that society. According to the same poll, 6 percent of British Muslims saw the bombings as justified, 56 percent "understood why some people behave in that way," and 16 percent felt "not loyal towards Britain."2 This is not, of course, a problem limited to Britain: every European country is now home to large populations of alienated, unassimilated Muslims who despise the West.
As the portrait of the bombers became clearer, sharply illustrating these fissures in Europe's social fabric, a large cohort of the professional commentariat proclaimed themselves shocked. I believe I heard the same people, several months later, proclaiming themselves shocked by the news that Kate Moss uses cocaine. Those of us who had been paying attention were not shocked at all.
This protest, for example, outside the U.S. embassy in London on May 20, 2005, was the kind of clue some of us had been noticing:
Shouting, "Down, down USA; down, down USA," the protesters called for the killing of Americans, the death of the U.S. president, the death of British Prime Minister Tony Blair, the bombing of Britain, and the annihilation of the U.S. capital: "Nuke, nuke Washington; Nuke, nuke Washington! Bomb, bomb the Pentagon." . . . "Death, death Tony Blair; death, death Tony Blair. Death, death George Bush," the protesters chanted. . . . Holding their Qurans high, they called for death and mayhem, praising the destruction of New York's twin towers on September 11, 2001, and saying the White House is next.3
I did not think these demonstrators were just joking then, and I certainly do not now.
The trend has been in evidence for years. British-based terrorists were involved in the planning and execution of the suicide bombing of American embassies in Kenya and Tanzania in 1998. They were involved in the planned attack on the American embassy in Albania. They were associated with the attempted attack on Los Angeles International Airport in 2000 and, most important, with the September 11 attacks on New York and Washington.
One week after the London bombings, it was reported that Mohammed Sidique Khan, believed to have been the operation's field commander, had been in contact with a suspected recruiter for an extremist group in New York. Two other men linked to the plot had direct ties to the United States: one had traveled recently to Ohio; another had been a student at an American university.4
I have those same handwritten notes beside me now. On the evening of July 7, 2005, having spent the day following the news on the Internet and exchanging e-mails with my friends in London, I wrote these words: "The same thing will happen soon in the United States, and the bombers will come from Europe." They will come from Europe because it is comparatively easy to enter the United States if you carry a European passport, and because Europe is--as it always has been--the breeding ground of the world's most dangerous ideologues.
Although I take as much satisfaction as the next woman in being right, I'd much prefer to be wrong about this. Unfortunately, I don't think I am.
The Return of the Repressed
To judge from the number of books published in recent years about the challenges of renovating a farmhouse in Tuscany or Provence, large swaths of Europe are now populated by middle-aged American divorcees, living large on alimony and greatly occupied by the tending of their new olive terraces. As far as they are concerned, the chief problem with life in Europe is the difficulty of coaxing the medieval plumbing in their newly acquired Renaissance villas into action. (These women are survivors. They grow from this tough experience.)
Many Americans know this version of Europe--Alimony Europe, Fodor's Europe, Europe on Five Dollars a Day--quite well. They know it from books and movies, they know it from their summer vacations. They remember backpacking through Europe after graduating from college. Amsterdam was great, until Flounder fell in the canal. They think wistfully of that ad in the back of the New York Review of Books: "Dordogne--18th-century stone manor. Antiques, all original beams, 18' cathedral ceiling, fireplace, pool. 28 bucolic acres of woods, meadow, fruit and walnut trees, stream. Must be willing to feed goats." When they visit Europe, they travel from one historic and lovely city center to another, making use of Europe's convenient railroads. They do not visit the places most Europeans actually live, and know little about them.
Indeed, most Americans born after the Second World War have grown up thinking of Europe, Western Europe in particular, as not much more than a congeries of windmills, gondolas, dissipated monarchs, and peculiar toilets. They have considered the political and moral essence of Europe, when they have considered it at all, to be much like our own. They have, of course, heard the stories about the cancerous, deranged thing of the past, but that Europe, they believe, is long dead, vanquished by the United States in the First and Second World Wars, resurrected in our image through the Marshall Plan. Europe? It's free, prosperous, peaceful, and democratic now, right? We don't need to worry about it anymore.
Yes, Europe is peaceful, prosperous, free, and democratic, relatively speaking. It is not Sierra Leone, and I'm not saying it is. I do not propose we worry overmuch that German nationalists will hijack commercial jets and pilot them into our skyscrapers. American troops stationed in Italy may leave their bases without benefit of armored convoys, unworried about the threat of capture and beheading by enraged fundamentalist papists. All of that is true; it would be absurd to deny it. Europe's achievements since the Second World War have been real and significant. There is unprecedented prosperity on the Continent, with standards of health care and education that in many places exceed those in the United States. The Great Powers of Europe are no longer cannibalizing one another. The Furor Teutonicus has for the moment subsided. No doubt, much of the darkness has been repressed.
But the repressed is known for returning.
Since the collapse of the Soviet empire, and particularly since September 11, some Americans have begun to sense, uneasily, a certain lack of love from our transatlantic brethren. Many Europeans did not seem to grasp the enormity of September 11, and never denounced the event as forthrightly as we had expected. The rift over the Iraq War exposed an extremity of anti-American passion that simply made no sense, particularly given that European intelligence agencies were, like ours, persuaded that Saddam Hussein was developing weapons of mass destruction, still more so because European cities would have been the obvious targets of those weapons. Iraq was, after all, believed to be building not long-range but medium-range ballistic missiles. To any European capable of reading a map, the implications of this should have been obvious. The spectacle of European leaders and citizens declaring themselves, in all seriousness, to be more alarmed by American imperialism than by Saddam's quite rightly made many Americans wander to their bookshelves and begin thumbing through their copies of Let's Go: Mexico.
The American political analyst Robert Kagan has suggested, reassuringly, that the divide is not as serious as it looks: it is just that Americans are from Mars, and Europeans are from Venus. Now, I am all for interplanetary diplomacy--who isn't?--but having lived in Europe for most of my adult life, I see things just a little differently.
Blackmailed by history
I use the word Europe here as a shorthand. I mean by this the former members of the European Community, a distinct historic entity comprising most of Western Europe and Great Britain. These nation-states are united now by their entangled pasts and their common dilemmas. I am writing about this Europe because it is the Europe I come from and the Europe I know; having never lived in Eastern Europe, I will leave that subject to someone who has.
I come from this Europe in the sense that my grandparents, musicians born in Leipzig, were refugees from the Nazis; they crossed every border in Europe from Danzig to Bilbao in their flight from Hitler's armies. Their lives--and thus mine--were shaped by Europe's history. I know this Europe because I have lived in it for many years, studied its languages and history in its universities, and worked in its economies; I have closely examined its legal and medical systems, its bureaucracies, its rental markets, and its tax codes--not so much out of academic curiosity but because for anyone living here, a close examination is inescapable. These are, therefore, personal stories.
They are unified, however, by two larger themes--and a set of questions.
The first theme is that Europeans are behaving now as Europeans have always behaved. Many seemingly novel developments in European politics and culture are in fact nothing new at all--they have ancient roots in Europe's past. And what is that past? From the sack of Rome to the Yalta Conference, that past has been one of nearly uninterrupted war and savagery. Ethnic wars, class wars, revolutionary wars, religious wars, wars of ideology, and genocide are not aberrations in Europe's history; they are its history. An interregnum from these ancient conflicts endured from 1945 to the end of the Cold War, when Europe's destiny was in the hands of the two superpowers. With the collapse of the Soviet empire, however, history has reasserted itself. Those disturbing sounds you hear from Europe are its old, familiar ghosts. They are rattling their chains.
The second theme is that this history has culminated in a peculiar, palpable European mood. Europeans, especially young Europeans, sense in their lives a cultural, spiritual, and ideological void, one that is evident in the art, the language, the literature of contemporary Europe; in the way they talk about their existence in cafes, in discotheques, and on the Internet; in their music, in their heroes, in their family lives; and above all in the way they face threats to their own civilization--and ours.
At the same time, Europe now confronts an entirely new set of questions, ones to which no European leaders or thinkers have offered a coherent answer, about the ultimate effects of European integration, changing demography, massive immigration from former European colonies, and the expectations to which the postwar welfare states have given rise. Without understanding this history, this mood, and these questions, there is no understanding Europe. Without understanding Europe, we cannot construct an intelligent relationship to it.
Hopelessness and the Void
Two historic events in particular are reverberating throughout Europe today. The first is the death of Christianity. From the time of Constantine's conversion, Europe was above all a Christian continent, with every aspect of its political, social, and family life refracted through the prism of Christian faith. But Europe has in the past several centuries seen a complete--really complete--loss of belief in any form of religious faith, personal immortality, or salvation. In 2005, the death of Pope John Paul II occasioned profound, spontaneous grief, to be sure, but the emotion was an atavism: church attendance in most Western European countries is less than 5 percent, a statistic ultimately much more telling than the weeping crowds in St. Peter's Square. For all the pope's charisma, he was completely unable to persuade Europeans to return to the traditional beliefs and rituals that once defined them. The first draft of the new European Union constitution did not include a single mention of Christianity. Almost a third of the Dutch no longer know why Christmas is celebrated. When asked by pollsters to name an inspirational figure, British respondents placed Christ well below Britney Spears.
The past two centuries of European history can be viewed as a series of struggles to find a replacement for what Europe has lost. Until recently, nationalism in Europe has been a substitute for religious belief. In France, for example, the idea of France itself and its civilizing mission has lent meaning to the lives of Frenchmen, just as some mystical Aryan ideal has served as a substitute for religious belief in Germany.
The second event, the complete catastrophe of the two World Wars, put an end to that, and to every other form of idealism in Europe besides. Europe is still experiencing postwar aftershocks that are at once deadening and deadly. All secular substitutes for faith, and particularly those based in a notion of the supremacy of European culture, have lost their hold. What Frenchman can stand before the graveyards of Ypres or Verdun and without choking on the words profess his allegiance to the mission civilatrice? The nation-state, the arts, music, science, fascism, communism, and even rationality--all of these were substitutes for Christianity, and all failed.

Meet the Author

Claire Berlinski, born and raised in the United States, has lived and worked in Britain, France, Switzerland, Thailand, Laos, and Turkey as a journalist, academic, and consultant. She has written for the New York Times, the Washington Post, National Review, the Weekly Standard, and Policy Review, among other publications. Berlinski holds a degree in modern history and a doctorate in international relations from Oxford University and has studied French literature at the Sorbonne. She now divides her time between Paris and Istanbul.

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Menace in Europe: Why the Continent's Crisis Is America's Too 3.3 out of 5 based on 0 ratings. 4 reviews.
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Guest More than 1 year ago
Never mind the other bitter review... This is definitely an eye opening book for those unfamiliar yet with what is going on in Europe. For the past years I've had to travel often to Europe for both personal and business matters, and the sheer venom and attacks that as an American you receive everywhere, without provocation, personally and indirectly through the mass media--try walking into an English language bookstore, you'll be amazed!--is appalling. Ms Berlinski has done an incredible job in her portrayal of Europe, if anything, she's been too nice to the old continent. An excellent book, don't miss it!
Guest More than 1 year ago
'Menace in Europe: Why the Continent's Crisis is America's, Too' by Claire Berlinski------------------- A better example of the essential emptiness of neo-conservatism than Claire Berlinski¿s Menace in Europe would be difficult to find. Sometimes descending to the level of invective heard on right-wing talk radio in the United States, Berlinski¿s explanation for her frustration and anger with Old Europe is a grab bag of café cultural criticism and sociological analysis. She condemns Western Europeans as morally bankrupt, weakened by the entitlements granted by their social welfare states, and unwilling to defend their societies or Western Civilization from threat. The Dutch in particular are derided for responding to home-grown Islamist terror with what she describes as the same sort of ¿bargaining with depravity¿ she claims they exhibited during the Nazi Occupation. Beyond the ugly vituperation expressed in sweeping generalizations, the most salient problem with her book is in failing to make methodologically defensible comparisons------------ First, Berlinski compares apples and oranges. For example, in support of the claim that Western Europeans are bellicose, she lists 88 wars fought in Europe among Europeans since the fall of Western Roman Empire as against a single war fought in the United States among Americans: the American Civil War. Comparing Western Europe with all of North America rather than just the United States would have made more sense. So too would counting wars waged in North America between the Britain, France, Spain, the United States and Mexico and their many wars against Native Americans. Add all of the U.S. military interventions in the Caribbean and Central America to the list and North Americans appear every bit as bellicose as Western Europeans------------ Second, Berlinski cherry-picks her evidence. For example, to support the claim that Muslim minorities in Europe pose a national security threat, she points to findings from a December 2002 ICM Research poll that 44% of British Muslim respondents agreed with the statement that al Qaeda¿s attacks 'of September 11, 2001' were justified as a response to American aggression. The exact wording of that survey item was as follows: ¿Some people have said that the attacks by Al Qaeda and associated organizations are `a reaction undertaken by sons of Islam who are zealous in the defence of their religion and in response to the order of their God and prophet¿.¿ It would have been fairer of Berlinski to note that the wording of the survey item fairly begs respondents to endorse the more extreme statement and that it is therefore surprising 48% of respondents disagreed. Berlinski might also have looked at subsequent ICM Research polls of British Muslims. In a March 2004 ICM Research poll, British Muslims were asked the following question: ¿Would you regard further attacks by Al Qaeda, or similar organizations on the USA, as justified or unjustified?¿ While 13% of the respondents said further attacks would be justified, 74% said that they would not be justified. In a February 2006 ICM Research poll only 7% of British Muslim respondents agreed with the following statement: ¿Western society is decadent and immoral and Muslims should seek to bring it to an end, if necessary by violent means.¿ Instead, 80% agreed with the following alternative statement: ¿Western society may not be perfect but Muslims should live within it and not seek to bring it to an end.¿ The better portrayal these findings offer is of a British Muslim community with a rather smaller minority of the profoundly alienated------------ Third, Berlinski gets her facts wrong. After stating that French agrarian populist José Bové was born in Bordeaux, 29 pages later Berlinksi writes that it was ¿no accident¿ that Bové ¿was being born in Cathar country.¿ The Cathars, or Albigensians, were a heretical Christian sect in 12th century southeastern France. Bordeaux is in south-w