I am not amused either so should I pack the bags? Many

I am not amused either, so should I pack the bags? Many of these countries were infamous for their state terrorism against Jews. Since then they have systematically mistreated generations of Muslims.
Right on cue, out came the dishcloths, Bin Laden surrogates with murderous banners and belligerence. A sweetheart baby is held aloft wearing a snug cap with a red heart proclaiming love of al-Qa’ida. Is their faith so uncertain that a few ink lines can shrivel it? Threats and deaths for stupid pictures; what kind of morality is that?Muslims live as abject prisoners of their dictatorial states They flee to places where they can breathe easier and speak. They have taken something precious and turned it into a licence for the intelligentsia to behave like yobs. These liberal warriors, high on conceit, want to demonstrate that Muslims can never be a part of Europe, because, well, they are too backward to hoot aloud when their revered prophet is shown with a bomb for a turban.

This staged clash of fundamentalisms now has an audience of billions The climax is likely to be grisly. European journalists have got the show fight they wanted, Flemming Rose, the culture editor of Denmark’s Jyllands-Posten, sought out controversial cartoonists to create caricatures of the Prophet Mohamed, not because they had something bold and compelling to say, but simply to enrage, like bullfighters goading a bull. Other newspapers have reprinted the cartoons in a supposed act of solidarity. What they have done, in fact, is belittle freedom of expression. How about, instead, a medley of national anthems, a catch of this, a snatch of that? It might work, especially if was played every morning at 5.30 on Radio 4.I’ve thought about the sporting angle, too And my principal suggestion is for a European cricket team. How that would unite us! Can you imagine Europe against India or Australia, with Spanish matadors of opening bats, guileful French spinners, fearsome German fast bowlers thundering in and Italians sledging? Marvellous.The delights and attractions of the Roman games are also said to have been a great unifying draw, so I’m now working on a pilot for European Heads of Government Strictly Come Dancing On Ice, in which the winner assumes the Presidency QED, DV, pax vobiscum.. As I’ve already noted, “Congratulations” was rejected in 1968, which is a great pity, but there is another catchy one with a pertinent sentiment, “All Kinds of Everything”, a winner in 1970 for Dana, who, you will remember, went on to become the MEP for Connacht-Ulster, although her attachment to “strict family values” ran a little counter to her anthem’s message.Perhaps not, then.

I still have to blow my nose vigorously every time I watch that scene in Casablanca when the band plays the Marseillaise, and my only connection with France is a liking for chips.”Ode to Joy”, the European anthem, isn’t the same, somehow. (For younger readers, a monastery is a little like a monosexual Big Brother House, but with better singing.)So the ideal candidate would seem to be a clever, portly and serious Belgian. Where is such a paragon to be found? While you tax your little grey cells, I shall consider some big unifying ideas and symbols A song is always good. And, like Charlemagne, was born in what is now Belgium, always most receptive to European ideals He, though, did like a joke. This is a crack of his: “To God I speak Spanish, to women Italian, to men French, and to my horse, German.” Which, in addition to being the forerunner of all those ones about hell being where the British are the chefs and everything’s run by the Italians, must now be a highly dangerous, if not illegal, thing to say on at least four counts, including animal rights.But if we’re deciding whether you need a sense of humour to run Europe, I should add that Charles V gave it all up and went to live in a monastery in Extremadura for the last years of his life, almost totally incommunicado. Still, I note that Charlemagne banned jesters at court, so he and the Home Secretary are also united by a taste for anti-joke legislation.

And, of course, they both share the same name, which, modestly almost forbids me to point out, has had a fair bit of success in ruling Europe: you might also recall the great Holy Roman Emperor, Charles V.Who, as it happens, was another gout sufferer. He was also very keen on swimming, and, unusually or not at this level, could read but couldn’t write.Among contemporary politicians, I’m not sure who measures up to that, with the possible exception of, mutatis mutandis (vide supra), Charles Clarke, whom I’d not previously seen as the figurehead type, except, possibly, on a prow. How about the Emperor Charlemagne? What clues can this legendary figure provide? Well, he had a thick, short neck, a high voice, “a belly that protruded somewhat”, and he ended up with what sounds like gout, no doubt due to the red wine which stained his beard so much that his wife persuaded him to switch to white, thus giving birth to that excellent appellation, Corton-Charlemagne. Never underestimate the ability to buy obedience.”Nothing new there, then. And, when you’re looking for an inspiring figurehead, it’s easy to see the advantages of having an emperor who is also a god possessed of the power to end your life with the downward flick of a thumb and a high-pitched giggle. But I like a challenge.Before coming up with some big ideas, though, let’s look at how some other pan-Europeans have handled the problem.

And the first of my pan-handlers is an early mover and shaker whose thoughts have been interpreted by Wess Roberts in his management guide, Leadership Secrets of Attila the Hun: “Harness your peoples’ desires for short-term gains … Even Tony Blair, in a speech last Thursday, has now conceded failure in his mission to provoke some genuine enthusiasm in the British for the idea of Europe. Boris Johnson, meanwhile, in a book and television series, is contrasting Rome’s methods of holding the place together with those of the EU, and has concluded, inter alia, as I believe the Romans used to put it, that what’s lacking is big unifying ideas and symbols, something to rally round, something uniquely European, something that will send pride surging into our European hearts as surely as our national football teams.
Or, indeed, someone. A definite entity, give or take a Ural or two, but difficult to pin down beyond that. Many have tried – one thinks of Napoleon and Hitler – but few have had any lasting degree of success, which is not altogether surprising when you consider that both Israel and Morocco have taken part in the Eurovision Song Contest.