Left Leo

It seems so wonderful to me to be the Dutch Minister of Foreign Affairs and then, without a hint of shame, you say in front of a camera that you want the EU to investigate compliance with the treaty that our country has with Israel. Compliance by the Israelis, of course. That seems clear to me. And when someone asks why you are investigating, you say that there are rumours going around in The Hague and Brussels that what is happening there is not entirely right. Human rights violations. War crimes. You then quickly add that for the time being, these are just rumours and that you do not have to believe them right away. Let alone respond to them. No, first investigate. We do not want to offend Mr Netanyahu and his friends. They are too busy defending themselves and cannot use false accusations.

Someone might then say that there has been clear evidence in the media for quite some time. But then you say: 'No, first investigate whether it is really true. Photos could have been shopped by Hamas. Just like the videos of Israeli bombings could have been cobbled together by AI. The so-called Putin practices. Just like those lines of hungry Palestinian children in front of the soup kitchens. Are they really waiting for food? Maybe it is an investigation into overly fat welfare livers. Like this week in the Amsterdam RAI.

No, we are going to take a good look at that with the Dutch government itself and if indeed some irregularities are found, we will send a diplomatic yellow card. So that they know that we are on to them. No, we are not taking any measures for the time being, but we are saying that we have drawn a line in the sand and that we want the problem to be solved one day. If Gaza is still there, that is. Because if it is no longer there, then there is nothing to solve.

I was carefully pondering this on Thursday evening on an Amsterdam terrace, where a lady next to me was vaping very dirty. The wisps of white smoke leaving her poorly sculpted head kept reminding me of Vatican City. And damn it: my neighbor was right. God had spoken and appointed a new pope through the Holy Spirit. Everyone grabbed their cell phones to travel to Rome. The vaping vamp next to me asked if she could watch my phone. Hers didn't recognize her after her last fillers. She found that quite bad because her cell phone was actually her only contact with reality. We watched together happily. Suddenly a man in the television studio smashed the table in two because he had once been drinking wine with the new pope.

“If it’s just the wine,” I suggested to my table companion, who found it a dirty, suggestive remark. What did I mean?

“Nothing,” I lied and listened to the man in the studio who explained that he had once had a nice night out with Linke Leo de Viertiende.

Further on, a man shouted that the story was true because he had been there himself. According to him, it was an altar boy trip that got out of hand. From that moment on, he was not given any more alcohol.

When the Pope came into view, he wished everyone peace. I thought that was a shame. I was ready for a more boisterous type of church leader. A swinging rapper who suggests that we all continue to fight on the planet. One who could have given India and Pakistan a warm welcome.

And that he had said: "Shamelessly destroy each other over that stupid Kashmir, starve each other mercilessly and don't forget your nuclear weapons. Don't think about children. Just go for it. And if you want to know when it's getting too much? Only when the Dutch Minister of Foreign Affairs threatens to investigate. Then you have to be careful. But that could certainly take another ten years."