The State Of Denmark

Bob Simon Examines Muhammad Cartoon Controversy

(CBS) 
Meanwhile, Denmark was plunging into its deepest crisis, its only crisis, in more than half a century. Ever since the second World War, the Danes have been pleased with their country, pleased with their generous welfare system and, above all, pleased with themselves.

The lines between fantasy and reality aren’t sharply defined around Denmark. The elite troops guarding the royal palace look like toy soldiers, the national symbol is a bare-breasted mermaid luxuriating in Copenhagen’s harbor and the capital’s streets are lined with homes that could be gingerbread houses.

It’s the coziest of kingdoms, where even the runway models of Fashion Week, which was happening in Denmark while Danish embassies were burning, are all unmistakably Danish.

The Muslim quarter of Copenhagen is ten minutes away from all this and on a different planet. Many Muslims say they’ve been made to feel like aliens. They may benefit from Denmark’s welfare system, but there isn’t a real mosque in the entire country; they have to make do with converted factories. There may be a shwarma joint downtown, but there’s no Muslim cemetery anywhere.

These things deeply trouble Dr. Kamal Qureshi, the first Muslim immigrant to be elected to Denmark’s parliament. He’s troubled, but he’s not going anywhere.

"This is my country. I love my country. I hate when people burn the flag. It hurts in my stomach and guts to see my kids get scared when they see the Danish flag burn. For God's sake, this is a flag we have on the table when my children have their birthdays," Dr. Qureshi says.

Muslims make up only two percent of the population. Not much, perhaps, but enough to have spawned a backlash. Denmark now has the toughest immigration laws in Europe. And in the last five years, Danes have voted the ultra-rightwing People’s Party into the ruling majority. Since the cartoon controversy, support for this anti-Muslim party has grown to almost 20 percent.

Dr. Qureshi acknowledges there has been a crisis in recent weeks involving Danes and Muslims.

Asked if he thinks the crisis is going to make things better or worse, Dr. Qureshi says, "Being where I am, I have to be optimistic."

"You have to be. But what are you?" Simon asked.

"I'm scared," Qureshi replied. "I think there are a lot of Muslims that are afraid that they could be turned into scapegoats, and people would say that the reason that the world hates us is because you people are telling bad stories of Denmark. We have to take the ball away from the extreme groups in Denmark and put it in the middle where the rest of us are."

But that middle is fast disappearing into fantasies of fear. Many Muslims are afraid of being victimized. Many Danes are afraid their culture is under siege. Already, people with foreign values are converging on Denmark’s national symbols.

So what to do? If you ask those Danes responsible for the country’s traditional image of civility and manners, a Dane like former foreign minister and newspaper editor Uffe Elleman, he’ll tell you that a little self-censorship is not always a bad thing.

"When you use the freedom of speech to make jokes of other people's religions and you do it with the single purpose of demonstrating that you have the right to do so, then you are undermining the freedom of speech as I see it," Elleman says.

"Is that what you think the newspaper was doing? Do you think they were deliberately provoking just to show that they had a right to do it?" Simon asked.

"Yes. And I reacted very strongly because Muslims in Denmark -- well, that's a minority, and you don't treat a minority that way. You don’t stamp on other people’s religious feelings. That’s bad taste," Elleman said.

Freedom of speech versus religious sensitivities. Conflicting forces which are doing battle everywhere. The Danes, in their picture perfect world, may have thought they were immune. Now they know better.