Dutch PM Apologises to Moluccan Soldiers for Historical Wounds

The Dutch government has officially apologised to thousands of Moluccan soldiers who fought for the Dutch colonial army during Indonesia’s struggle for independence. Dutch Prime Minister Rob Jetten described the treatment received by the former soldiers as a ‘callous’ and dishonourable act. The apology was delivered by Jetten during the inauguration of a national monument built through community fundraising in the port area of Rotterdam, the arrival point of the last ship that brought the Moluccan soldiers and their families to the Netherlands in 1951. Approximately 12,500 people, comprising former members of the Royal Netherlands East Indies Army (KNIL) and their families, were relocated from the Maluku archipelago to the Netherlands after Indonesia gained independence. Many arrived without any other choice, believing the relocation was only temporary. The soldiers hoped to return to their homeland after six months and witness the realisation of the Republic of Maluku they aspired to. However, that hope never materialised. They were instead forcibly discharged from military service, prohibited from working or voting in elections, and placed in holding locations, including the former Nazi transit camp Westerbork. For some families, the promised return never came. Some never even unpacked their suitcases, continuing to hope they would one day go back to Maluku. In his speech, Jetten openly apologised for the Dutch government’s treatment of the community. ‘For their dismissal as soldiers, which was done callously and without honour, for the inadequate reception and accommodation, because they were ignored and abandoned, for the longing to return home that was never fulfilled, for the sorrow and suffering in so many Moluccan families … for all of that, I offer my apologies today on behalf of the Dutch government. This is not only long overdue, but also necessary if we want to move forward,’ Jetten said. The dissatisfaction of the Moluccan community with the Dutch government’s treatment peaked in the 1970s. Activism by descendants of Moluccan families at that time included school hostage-takings and armed train hijackings, which were ended by bloody operations by Dutch special forces. In 1986, the Dutch government and representatives of the Moluccan community reached an agreement that included cultural support and job creation programmes. However, in recent years, demands for the government to officially acknowledge past wrongs have intensified. Jetten stressed that an upcoming parliamentary inquiry is crucial. The investigation will involve the Moluccan community in the Netherlands, which now numbers an estimated 70,000 descendants. Rotterdam Mayor Carola Schouten said the construction of the monument is intended to provide a space for the community to tell a history that has often been neglected. ‘They were treated coldly, their loyalty was repaid at a very high price and often became suppressed sorrow,’ Schouten said. ‘It is important that the injustice done to you is acknowledged.’ The monument is the work of artists Jaïr Pattipeilohy and Maurice den Boer. Its shape resembles the bow of a traditional ship and symbolises the long journey of the Moluccan people to the Netherlands. Chairman of the monument foundation, Yordi Tahamata, said the project required a decade-long struggle before finally being realised. ‘I stand here as the grandson of my grandfathers … part of the generation that came to the Netherlands under military orders and built a life in a foreign country, without certainty about a future they had never imagined before,’ he said. ‘This is about the right to tell our history and pass it on to the next generations.’ According to Tahamata, the monument is not merely a physical symbol, but also a form of recognition of the Moluccan community’s right to tell their history to future generations. Despite being welcomed by some, criticism also emerged that the Dutch government appeared to be taking over the momentum of the monument’s inauguration, which was actually built by the Moluccan community themselves. Some also felt the apology came far too late for many victims who have already passed away. One of the surviving former soldiers, 98-year-old Eduard Latuheri, was invited to bless the monument alongside several other veterans and first-generation family members. Due to his health condition, his grandson, Dennis van Peterson, conveyed Latuheri’s views. ‘He is grateful to be here,’ Van Peterson said. ‘There are mixed feelings about the apology. For Grandfather, it is the right thing to do, but the first generation is mostly gone now, it is all too late.’ For many families, the historical wound is not only about the treatment upon arrival in the Netherlands, but also about the unfulfilled promise of a possible return to their homeland. Fred Roos, 70, who was born and spent the first five years of his life in Westerbork, recalled his father who was never allowed to work and spent his entire life angry about the broken promise. ‘Everything was always ready to go back home, but it never happened,’ he said. ‘This is a moment laden with emotion.’