Mixed Feelings
I see Danny walking down the corridor with a broad smile on his face. Interim-editor-in-chief Chaalan Charif often walks with us. He wants to briefly consult with Danny and me. "You’re going to interview him," Mr Charif tells me. "But I’m on-air tomorrow," I respond with mixed emotions. "That’ll be arranged," he says. “But do you want to do it?”

An interview with Geert Wilders calls for solid preparation. Questions race through my mind. I receive the necessary documentation via email – more than 30 pages.

Headscarf

I’ve forgotten who suggested it, but the idea to bring 'something' for Mr Wilders is brilliant. But what? Someone says Moroccan biscuits. I ring my wife to ask if she wouldn't mind baking some biscuits for Geert Wilders. Yeah right. My wife wears a headscarf. And I'm well aware of her opinion of 'that hate-monger'. Is she going to bake something for him?

It’s Thursday morning. I’m sitting at my computer, thinking of a suitable opening question. Preferably something personal. For example: do you have Moroccan friends? Are you even capable of making Moroccan friends? How do you get along with your bodyguards? More personal than just politics, in any case.

Finally, with the help of my colleagues, I’ve come up with a list of questions. On the way to The Hague I ask myself, will he really accept my offer of biscuits?

Last check

Black chairs and nailed-down tables furnish a room in the Dutch parliament building. "Mr Wilders is going to sit here," one of his colleagues tells us. Danny does a last check. It’s already past four. "It’s a busy day today, it’s going to take awhile," the press officer says.

At a quarter to five I wonder if he's going to show. Stay calm. "Don’t let them get to you," was my colleague's advice. But I'm starting to wonder if the interview will still take place, especially when the press officer receives a phone call and quickly leaves the room. Silence.

Handshake

A bodyguard opens the door and briefly inspects the room. Geert Wilders walks in. Smiling. We shake hands. Two bodyguards and a police officer take their places.
 

"Where shall I sit?" Mr Wilders asks in a friendly tone. I give him a chair.
"May I offer you something, Mr Wilders? Moroccan biscuits?"
He hesitates but answers "Sure."
"Can we film that?"
"No! Definitely not."
"Okay. We won't."
"What’s in it?" he asks pointing to the tin.
"See for yourself."
"Hmm. They look good."

The man who dictates the Dutch political agenda, particularly when it comes to integration and immigration policies, is sitting right in front of me. He is known in the Arabic world as a 'Muslim hater', 'hate monger' and as a 'racist'. His strong bond with Israel only confirms the 'rumours' in the Islamic world that a global conspiracy exists against Islam.

Muslim moderates

I must say that his viewpoints are more than clear. According to him there is no such thing as moderate Islam. "There are those who call themselves Muslim moderates. But I don’t believe in a moderate Islam. I think the Islamic belief is a totalitarian ideology," he tirelessly repeats.

He doesn’t come across as hostile. On the contrary, he's even friendly. He listens attentively to my questions and gives me 'standard' answers. It feels a bit like déjà vu.

There is one question, however, which I'm too afraid to ask. Why won't he accept the biscuits – the ones my wife baked for him – on film?