Political work and family: a delicate balancing act

Young politicians are reassessing their priorities after two high-profile colleagues recently left the Dutch political arena, saying they wanted to spend more time with their loved ones.

Respectable. Brave. Logical. That is what young city council members called the decision by Wouter Bos (46) and Camiel Eurlings (36) to leave politics to devote more time to their private lives.

Prominent Dutch feminists have since called the two “sissies”, or accused them of manufacturing excuses, but the newest generation of politicians can only commend the two statesmen for their decision. A yearning for family life is nothing to be ashamed of, they say. The fact that both politicians are men is taken for granted.

Political exodus

Numerous Dutch representatives from across the political spectrum have also announced they will be taking their chances outside of parliament. Johan Remkes and Laetitia Griffith of the right-wing liberal VVD, Christian Democrat Pieter van Geel, Kees Vendrik of the green Groenlinks party, Bas van der Vlies of the orthodox-Christian SGP, Staf Depla and Ton Heerts from Labour, all have been unable, unwilling or barred from continuing. For the youngest of politicians, who have just entered city councils throughout the country and for whom the national arena in The Hague remains little more than a distant dream for now, it was a moment for pause.

Herriët Brinkman (26), CDA councillor in Staphorst and mother of two, knows well that her two roles are not a good fit. “I only knew I could do it after giving it a lot of thought,” Brinkman said. “My children are only one and four years old, so they won’t notice when I am away at night. But after Bos and Eurlings left politics, I started to doubt myself again. Being a representative is a very demanding responsibility. Perhaps it cannot be combined with having a family.”

“For us young politicians, the combination is something to reflect on and discuss with our partners too,” said Mohammed Mohandis (24), a Labour councillor in Gouda. “Politics, as a profession, has spun out of control. Sometimes it seems like a politician’s workday knows no end. I know of few other people who work so hard and earn so little. And meanwhile people accuse you of lining your pockets.”

A future secretary general

Evelien van Roemburg (25), a councillor for the green GroenLinks in Amsterdam, found the practice of working so hard anachronistic. “It is an outrage that politicians are unable to see their families. I thought we had left this macho culture of working till you dropped well behind us. You should be able to have dinner at home without the nation falling apart.” Still, her indignation did little to reduce her ambition. Van Roembrug hopes to become the secretary-general of the United Nations one day, possibly passing through Dutch national politics on her way there. Who needs kids anyway?

“You have to be fully dedicated”, Lidewij Bergsma (18) agreed, rattling on like a true politician. She had only recently been installed as a VVD councillor in the Frisian town of Tytsjerksteradiel and still has to finish high school. Once she does, she would consider a post in the Dutch cabinet. “I am a career type of person,” she said. Bergsma does not have a lover because she is too ambitious to enter into a serious commitment at the moment, she said, and she cannot even imagine having children.

For many young councillors, self-realisation is the most important thing. Only Pieter van Ojen (22), an SGP councillor in Zeist, mentioned the national interest. For years he cherished the ambition to enter national politics, but now he has been cast into doubt, partially due to the exit from politics of Bos and Eurlings. “They have made me face up to facts. You’d better know what you are getting into from the start,” he said. Van Ojen hopes to have children with his prospective wife Arianne, whom he marry in April. “And I absolutely don’t want to work 70 hours a week. Family should come first,” he added. Van Ojen now believes he could better serve the nation as a theology professor. At least that job has regular hours.

Rob Jetten (22), the leader of left-wing liberal D66 in the city of Nijmegen, has also fallen prey to scheduling difficulties. Jetten, who is still working on his thesis, has put all his hobbies on hold for the time being. He called his council work “pretty gruelling”. Still, he liked a little hard work, and – so far - enjoyed politics. “That is the most important thing for my generation,” Jetten said.

Farshad Bashir (22) has a different story. He has been a member of parliament for the Socialist Party for two years now and was unpleasantly surprised about the extremely demanding job it had proven to be. “If you want to do the job right, you are a parliamentarian 24 hours a day. You are rarely home, you need to keep friends at arm’s length and you see very little of your girlfriend. The price you have to pay is a high one.”

After work, time for hate mail

The profession can also be an ungrateful one at times, Bashir said. “You get hate mail while you are caught up in meetings that last deep into the night. And do not think for one minute that voters reward you based on the amount of work you do.” Bashir added he did not want to complain, “but I want children too. Considering that, I don’t think I want to keep working this hard forever.”

Bashir once said he hoped to become the longest serving member of parliament. “But on second thoughts, I am not sure that would beneficial to my health. Two terms seems plenty to me. After that I want to return to physics and finish my studies. As a scientist, at least you get to work from home.”

Bashir knows his wishes are at odds with his party’s doctrine, which favours multiple terms, which are supposed to serve parliament’s memory. So is Bashir’s personal interest prevailing over the national one? Bashir would rather put it differently “Sometimes the nation cannot ask more than one man can give,” he said.