'In Amsterdam they party, in The Hague they talk and in Rotterdam we work' is a frequently heard expression that sums up the quintessential difference between Rotterdam and the rest of Holland.
Rotterdamers are justifiably proud of their city which had to be completely rebuilt after the Second World War and is now home to the largest port in the world. It is, however, a city of contrasts: named European City of Culture in 2001, it also has a greater percentage of unsolved crime than anywhere else in the Netherlands; it is home to the biggest
'house scene', has more festivals and Michelin 3* restaurants than anywhere else in Holland but it is also home to the greatest number of unemployed and foreign illegal workers. Because of its maritime history Rotterdam has always been a multi-cultural melting pot - indeed some estimates suggest that there are more non-Dutch than native Dutch living in the city. However, true to the Dutch concepts of tolerance and equality, it appeared, outwardly at least, that everything in the bulb fields was coming up tulips - until, that is, the emergence in 2002 of a little-known sociology professor turned politician:
Pim Fortuyn.
Fifty-three years old, 'Professor Pim', as he preferred to be known, brought a breath of fresh air to the previously bland Dutch political scene where every government for decades was a coalition and where every view, as long as it was broadly democratic, was taken into account. Elections had become slightly meaningless: whoever won, whatever slight rejuggling there might be of the coalition partners, Dutch politics bobbed along in its cosy centrist way with no one aware of a growing complacency and no one aware of the anxieties which were beginning to surface on the fringes of society, particularly in Rotterdam - no one, that is, until Professor Pim promised to address them.
Pim Fortuyn was a flamboyant, openly gay, blunt, outspoken and charismatic man with a penchant for lap dogs, luxury and Cuban cigars; well dressed in custom-made Italian suits he was often to be seen in his chauffeur-driven Daimler with blacked~out windows and champagne leather upholstery.
Charismatic, confrontational and telegenic, he possessed a frank, sarcastic sense of humour, providing outrageous soundbites that were a gift for the Dutch media and wiping the floor with establishment politicians in televised debates.
Fortuyn had only recently entered the Dutch political arena; previously he had held several jobs in education and research, living up to what became known as 'Fortuyn's Law': wherever he worked he left in controversy and acrinwny. The former Marxist became an opinionated right-wing magazine columnist and had started his own local political party, Leefbaar Rotterdam (Liveable Rotterdam), in order to contest the forthcoming local elections when, in November 2001, he was invited to become leader of the small and supposedly radical national party, Leefbaar Netherland.89
He guided the party towards the right, criticising bureaucracy in Dutch public services and challenging long-established Dutch political norms.
However, 'Fortuyn's Law' was once again re-enacted when, three months later, he was thrown out for suggesting that Article One of the Dutch Constitution, which banned discrimination, should be changed (this despite the fact that, on his appointment, he had promised not to raise this as an issue) and for publicly criticising Muslim leaders and their stance on homosexuals. Still head of the local Leefbaar Rotterdam, and two days after his public dismissal from Leefbaar Netherland, this indomitable character had bounced back to form his own party, Lijst Pim Fortuyn (Pim Fortuyn's List), comprising a disparate group of hand-picked, likeminded people who were in complete agreement with his policies and who were rich enough to be able to finance him but who did not necessarily have any political training or background.
Fortuyn's particular brand of politics was as paradoxical as the man himself. Branded right-wing, he was frequently (and to his increasing anger) compared with France's Jean-Marie Le Pen or Austria's Jorg Haider. In fact he supported gay rights, legalised drugs and prostitution - the very hallmarks of Holland's pemissive society - and he succeeded in blending liberal and reactionary populist policies which included a drastic reduction in bureaucracy, a clampdown on crime and a return of much of the Netherlands contribution to the EU (proportion- ately the largest of any member state). However, the fly in this apparent ointment of liberalism was his stance on immigration; his policies on race included zero Muslim immigration, a cut in the overall annual number of immigrants from 40 000 to 10 000 and better integration of the two million immigrants already on Dutch soil. He was famously quoted as saying, 'Enough is enough, The Netherlands is a small country ... we are already overcrowded, there's no more room and we must shut the borders'. However, Fortuyn argued that his apparent far right-wing stance on immigration was, in fact, just the opposite because he believed that Islam undermined the ultra-liberal permissive society which he cherished. He argued that Islam was a backward culture, saying, 'In Holland, homosexuality is treated the same way as heterosexuality. In what lslamic country does that happen?' and 'How can you respect a culture if the woman has to walk several steps behind her husband, has to stay in the kitchen and keep her mouth shut?' He sought to strengthen this liberal view by arguing that he was not against immigrants per se, but he questioned their ability to assimilate into a liberal and radically tolerant culture: 'My policies are multi-ethnic and certainly not racist … I want to stop the influx of new immigrants … [and] give those who are already here the opportunity to fully integrate into our society.' Added weight was given to his argument by the appointment of several ethnic candidates including Jo Varela from the Cape Verde Islands and Philomena Bylhout, a television presenter of Surinamese origin.

Questions

(a) Using appropriate theoretical concepts to justify your answer, do you consider that Pim Fortuyn was a charismatic leader?
(b) Compare and contrast LPF with other ‘oneperson’ organisations (e.g. Body Shop, Virgin, Microsoft). If these organisations were to lose their
figurehead, do you think that they would be able to continue? Why or why not?