Transitional Justice and the Dutch
Resistance
What does the functioning of the National Honour Court of the Resistance tell us about the practice of resistance during the occupation and its legitimization through the resistance
myth afterwards?
Janneke Jorna Master thesis University of Amsterdam
Program: Holocaust and Genocide Studies Student number: 11077050
Supervisors: Bas von Benda-Beckmann; Johannes Houwink ten Cate ECTS: 18
2 Table of contents
Introduction 3
Chapter 1 – Resistance and Special Justice 20
Chapter 2 – Betrayal 39
Chapter 3 – Assassination 56
Chapter 4 – Robbery 70
Conclusion 84
Bibliography 90
Photograph frontpage: The armed civilians employed by the Internal Armed Forces (possibly the family Havedings). OVGC, copyright unknown.
3 Official history, with its oversights and the vocabulary used to recount it, varies according to
regimes and eras. It reflects a community’s present state of mind with respect to its past more than what really happened.1
The resistance struggling for democracy and against Nazi occupation during the Second World War is a very important part of the founding myths of the modern European states. Derived from this founding myth is the so-called resistance mythology, based on ‘redemptive violence’: violence that is ‘perceived to be necessary’.2 The image of
the resistance embodied the myth of modern European states rebirth by violence.3 Two
integral elements of this myth are the maintenance of national unity during the occupation period and the recovery afterwards. In each country, different forms of unified resistance appeared, similar to how the German occupation had taken different forms.
Is it even possible to speak of the resistance? The Dutch historian Chris van der Heijden proposed using quotation marks, as 'the resistance' has never existed as such.4 In reality, Dutch resistance was a collection of different organizations, networks,
people and activities, which did not have aligned goals or guidelines. Resistance is an extremely complicated phenomenon, which manifests itself differently in various
countries, even regions, and changes over time. For instance, resistance activities in Eastern and Western Europe are almost incomparable. This partly resulted from the different
conditions, as the geographical circumstances influences the feasibility of guerrilla activities. Resistance in Eastern Europe and the severe German counter measures derailed daily life on a massive scale.
The early historiographical work on the Second World War and resistance in the Netherlands, Onderdrukking en Verzet. Nederland in oorlogstijd, contained the unofficial retrospective view of the Dutch establishment on the occupation period. Willem Drees wrote the preface and multiple high-ranking resisters wrote chapters based upon their own experience and knowledge. The former resister Jan Meulenbelt, who was involved with
1 Jacques Sémelin, Unarmed against Hitler. Civilian resistance in Europe, 1939-1943 (London 1993) 24. 2 Ibidem.
3 Ibidem.
4 Chris van der Heijden, Dat nooit meer. De nasleep van de Tweede Wereldoorlog in Nederland (Amsterdam
4 rescuing Jewish children5, mentioned: 'the Netherlands are no Balkans, and the Dutch
people are no Balkan people, who from a young age are familiar with the reality or the eventuality of underground resistance against occupiers.6 The American
historian István Deák emphasized that in the Benelux ‘the terrain was of little use to the resisters, although the Dutch could hide in flooded areas, and Belgium as well as
Luxembourg has some forests and hills.’7 Also, within Western Europe itself resistance
varied extremely. For instance, the partly neighboring countries of Belgium, France and the Netherlands had completely different occupational government forms. While Belgium had a military administration, a civilian administrator governed the Netherlands, and France was divided into two zones with different administrations and forms of collaboration. The various German occupational policies greatly influenced the timing, form, and extent of resistance inside the occupied societies.8 When the relations between the occupied and the
occupier started deteriorating slowly, resistance in Western Europe increased. Its nature also changed over time. The French historian and sociologist Jacques Sémelin even made a distinction between ‘pre-Stalingrad and post-Stalingrad resistance.’9 As the military situation
on the battlefield changed in favor of the Allied forces, hope of ending the
occupation grew in the occupied societies. Deák also used the example of Stalingrad; the German forces were perceived to be on the losing side from that moment on.10
Thus, how do we define the general term of resistance? Van der Heijden raised an important question: when can we qualify someone to be a resister, 'only if the person in question has written a pamphlet or used weapons? Or also if the person in question has passed on a pamphlet, has helped someone in hiding, or has kept a secret?'11 British
historian Bob Moore stated that 'the very definition of resistance is part of each country's national historiography on the subject'.12 According to Sémelin, ‘the goal of the resistance
5 Johannes Houwink ten Cate, Het geheime dagboek van Arnold Douwes, Jodenredder (Amsterdam 2018) 42.
Jan Meulenbelt was one of the leaders of the Utrechts Kindercomite.
6 Johannes Jacob van Bolhuis (red.), Onderdrukking en verzet. Nederland in oorlogstijd (Arnhem 1949-1954),
part 4, 61.
7 István Deák, Europe on Trial. The Story of Collaboration, Resistance, and Retribution during World War II
(Boulder 2015) 124.
8 Sémelin, Unarmed against Hitler, 9-10. 9 Idem, 33.
10 István Deák, Jan T. Gross, Tony Judt, The Politics of Retribution in Europe. World War II and its aftermath
(Princeton 2000) 176.
11 van der Heijden, Dat nooit meer, 111.
5 was either to reconstruct the collective identity of an attacked society that was more or less involved in a collaboration process or to preserve a collective identity by trying to keep its population from being willing to collaborate with the occupier.’13 As a result, the goals were
mostly political, and ‘based on the defence or revival of national and patriotic
values.’14 Because the direct military approach mostly failed, resistance focused on a more
indirect approach in countering the occupier and its local henchmen. Sémelin divided this strategy into two categories, distinguishing between armed and civilian resistance; the first employed guerrilla activities and the second ‘tries to involve the whole civil
society.’15 Following, Sémelin further distinguished three circles of social mobilization. The
first circle encompassed all the militants from the various movements and their
activities. The second circle contained all those providing an ‘occasional helping hand or the providential aid spontaneously offered to a resister about to be arrested.’16 The third circle
was ‘much more far-reaching’ and included passive complicity. All these circles were important: ‘in a certain way, opinion protects resistance, while resistance acts in the name of the opinion that supports it.’17 Therefore, resistance could not subsist without the
support of at least some parts of society.
On the other hand, acts of resistance were not undisputed. Firstly, debate within resistance organizations during the occupation was ever-present, displaying a lack of unity. There was no unambiguous view on what resistance should entail and which acts of resistance were legitimized. The discussion on the legitimacy of assassination was especially fierce within resistance organizations. There was no uniform moral code for the Dutch resistance and therefore room for discrepancy. This ambiguousness had created problems regarding the legitimization of resistance. How were acts of resistance to be legitimized when there was disagreement within resistance organizations on the rules?
Secondly, Dutch society as a whole was not unanimously in favor of ‘the resistance’. While Sémelin emphasized that parts of society had to be supportive of resistance
organizations in order for resistance to exist, this did not mean that the entire Dutch society was fond of ‘the resistance’ during the course of the occupation. Critique on the Dutch
13 Sémelin, Unarmed against Hitler, 106. 14 Ibidem.
15 Ibidem. 16 Ibidem. 17 Ibidem.
6 resistance was present from the beginning of the occupation and continued into the post-war era. This criticism forced resistance organizations to look for ways to legitimize their acts of resistance, both during and after the occupation. This need for legitimization contributed to the emergence of the resistance myth, which already began to take shape during the occupation and continued forming afterwards.
Dutch historian Johannes Houwink ten Cate stated that the definition problem originated from the broadness of the concept of total war during the Second World War. He emphasized resistance was defined as any act that opposed the enemy, while ‘at that time, collaboration was regarded as any act that was supportive of the enemy’.18 Both the
concept of supporting and opposing the enemy were difficult to define, which created opportunities for using and abusing these concepts within the practice of political justice. In the post-war Netherlands, the history of collaboration was pushed to the background; the history of resistance formed a worthy substitution. This repression of collaboration formed the basis for the construction of a national myth of resistance.19 Belgian historian
Pieter Lagrou wrote about this resistance myth in France, Belgium and the Netherlands. These countries succeeded in re-establishing a relatively stable democracy.20 But he
emphasized that this new order was created at the expense of the former resistance.21 And
in the end, the interpretation of the occupation history was reshaped by a policy of
memory: the post-war authorities created an artificial ‘national consensus around the myth of unanimous resistance’.22 Lagrou also stated that the policy of memory was most clearly
crystallized in the Netherlands.23
The Dutch historian Martin Bossenbroek described the national sentiment in 1953 - on the occasion of the unveiling of a statue in former Amersfoort concentration camp - following: ‘A small but fearless people, led by a patriotic elite in single-minded resistance. That remained the political desired historical tableau.’24 This was supported by Lagrou’s
18 Johannes Houwink ten Cate, Collaboration with the Third Reich. The Wider Historical Debate and the Role of
Haj Amin al-Husseini, Mufti of Jerusalem, Jewish Political Studies Review, 26 (3&4), 91-113.
19 Houwink ten Cate, Collaboration with the Third Reich, 91-113.
20Pieter Lagrou (2003). The politics of memory. Resistance as a collective myth in post-war France, Belgium
and the Netherlands, 1945–1965. European Review, 11(4), 527-549.
21 Lagrou (2003). The Politics of memory. European Review, 11, 533. 22 Idem, 534.
23 Ibidem.
24 Martin Bossenbroek, De Meelstreep. Terugkeer en opvang na de Tweede Wereldoorlog (Amsterdam 2001)
7 statement that ‘as a result of the effective side-tracking of veterans’ associations, one can indeed describe the commemoration of ‘the resistance’ in the Netherlands as a coherent policy of memory.’25 He also stated ‘the main agent of this policy was the government’.26
However, ‘a loyal establishment of prominent resistance figures’ highly contributed to this elimination.27 This is no surprise when considering ‘the resistance elites were moreover
closely acquainted with government circles and they systematically supported a moderate and pro-government attitude.’28 This was not the only way in which the former Dutch
resistance leaders aided the consolidation and safeguarding of the resistance myth. With their influence in the transitional justice process, through the Special Administration of Justice, they were able to partly control the prosecution of former resisters.
This united and heroic image of resistance is problematic as it leads to a highly distorted view of resistance activities. Sémelin, in his influential study on civilian resistance, pointed out that armed resistance 'is depicted today (..) in a simplistic way, verging on caricature.’29 And in Resistance in Western Europe, Moore emphasized the other
side of the coin: ‘on the negative side, political reconstruction in every Western European state, while relying to some extent on the resistance myth, nonetheless ignored and marginalized many of those who had resisted. The most extreme manifestations of this trend occurred in relation to the national communist parties and their members who had often been major elements in West-European resistance. They found themselves not just excluded but also demonized in the Cold War politics of the post-war era.’ The political differences within resistance organizations were smoothed out.30 Taken together, the
resistance mythology inflated the number of resisters and marginalized the internal disagreement and differences. Certain groups, which did not fit in the post-war image of unified resistance, were marginalized. And the inflation of heroic aspects of resistance resulted in the downsizing or even elimination of the possible dubious aspects and criminal activities. Moreover, in Rondom de stilte. Herdenkingscultuur in Nederland Rob van Ginkel placed the marginalization in the frame of the resistance myth, where every Dutchmen had
25 Pieter Lagrou, The Legacy of Nazi Occupation. Patriotic Memory and National Recovery in Western Europe,
1945-1965 (Cambridge 2000) 68.
26 Ibidem. 27 Ibidem. 28 Idem, 64.
29 Sémelin, Unarmed against Hitler, 23.
8 been a resister by heart. This spirit of resistance pushed away the actual resisters.31 But how
large was the number of these actual resisters? The Dutch historian Loe de Jong estimated that around 25.000 people had been resisting until the start of September 1944, which grew to 45.000 people at the end of the occupation.32
Off the beaten track
The moral dilemmas faced by resisters who rose up against the Germans and broke the law should not be underestimated. During the course of the occupation certain moral codes or rules developed within resistance groups, which transgressed over time. Moral codes were partly an individual matter, but certainly also part of a group process as resisters influenced each other.33 Still, the picking up of weapons came with choices and dilemmas that could
lead to resisters making bad decisions. The lack of moral leadership and the absence of clear and fixed rules within the whole sphere of the Dutch resistance made it impossible to
uphold moral codes. This was strengthened by the great extent of self-reliance and secrecy in resistance organizations, which made effective leadership difficult and left room for excesses.34 These criminal acts possibly had to be addressed in the post-war Netherlands
through the process of transitional justice.
The United Nations defined transitional justice as consisting of ‘both judicial and non-judicial processes and mechanisms, including prosecution initiatives, facilitating initiatives in respect of the right to truth, delivering reparations, institutional reform and national consultations.’35 The process of transitional justice affected people throughout the
whole society. People who had committed criminal acts during the occupation -
membership of a national socialist organization - were eligible for post-war prosecution through the Bijzondere Rechtspleging (BR), or the Special Administration of Justice. This system of special justice entailed the prosecution of crimes against the safety of the state and betrayal. Furthermore, the purge of the society commenced through purification
31 Rob van Ginkel, Rondom de stilte. Herdenkingscultuur in Nederland (Amsterdam 2011) 280.
32 Loe de Jong, Het Koninkrijk der Nederlanden in de Tweede Wereldoorlog (The Hague 1969-1991) 10b first
part, 745-6.
33 Ismee Tames, Over grenzen. Liminaliteit en de ervaring van verzet (Amsterdam 2016) 17.
34 Bas von Benda-Beckmann, De Velser affaire. Een omstreden oorlogsgeschiedenis (Amsterdam 2013) 125. 35 Guidance note of the Secrectary-General. United Nations Approach to Transitional Justice (2010)
https://www.un.org/ruleoflaw/blog/document/guidance-note-of-the-secretary-general-united-nations-approach-to-transitional-justice/.
9 committees, divided up per profession, which were specifically orientated on its own
profession. These committees investigated submitted complaints but also took initiative by creating its own examinations.36
Resisters' involvement was clearly visible in the purge of the former resistance and the prosecution of former resisters for crimes committed during the occupation. The purge of the former resistance partly took a natural course through exclusion from the former resisters' organizations, committees and judicial jobs in the post-war Dutch society. On the other hand, attempts were made to influence the prosecution of former resisters for their crimes committed during the occupation by these former resisters' organizations and committees. This highlighted the pressure from both within ‘the resistance’ and from the outside world to justify the actions of resisters. Towards the end of the occupation and immediately after the liberation, the resistance reorganized itself into new organizations, of which the Grote Adviescommissie der Illegaliteit (GAC), or the Grand Advisory Commission of the Resistance, was the most important. This commission handled the post-war
prosecution of former resisters through an advice court,
the Landelijke Ereraad der Illegaliteit, or National Honour Court of the Resistance. This Court handled just over one hundred cases, which was relatively low compared to de Jong
estimation of 45.000 resisters.
At the beginning of 1946 the Minister of Justice asked the GAC for counsel on the prosecution of former resisters for betrayal. As a result, an advice-giving body was created. Hence, the initial goals of the Court were solely based on the problems regarding the prosecution of resisters for betrayal.37 Later on, other courts made use of this National
Honour Court of the Resistance and its expertise for prosecuting former resisters for mostly raids and assassinations, but also occasional offences related to collaboration, for instance the membership of a national socialist organization. Needless to say, combinations of these offences also occurred, as resistance activities were not strictly separated. For instance, a raid could turn into an unplanned assassination.38
36 de Jong, Het Koninkrijk, 12 first part, 480.
37 NIOD Institute for War, Holocaust and Genocide Studies, 197d Landelijke Ereraad der Illegaliteit, inventory
number 1.
10 The assignment of the Court was described as: 'the task of the Court lays in giving advice regarding the prosecution of criminal offences, committed during the occupation, in which the suspect appeals to his qualities as a resister and pleads that the reasons for his actions are motifs related to resisting the enemy.'39 As argued by the Minister of Justice,
'everyone, who is suspected of any crime and pleas, that the culpable facts during the hostile occupation of the empire in Europe are committed with no other intention than serving the Dutch interest, or that the culpable facts were committed in a state of
emergency, which he landed in through captivity or freedom restrictions by or because of the enemy, has the right to appeal to the Landelijke Ereraad, with the request of
intervention by the Procureur-Fiscaal, or Solicitor General, in their favor.'40 The last part of
this phrase is striking as it suggested that the Honour Court would intervene in favor of the persecuted resister. However, it remains to be seen whether this was always the
case. Besides, the above-mentioned intention will prove crucial in the case studies. It formed a moral benchmark, which was useful within the before-mentioned concept of political justice.
It is unclear who the exact initiator of the Court was. There are two possibilities: the former resistance through the GAC or the Minister of Justice. Was it an initiative of the justice apparatus, which felt unqualified to assess the stance and actions of accused
resisters who had cracked under the pressure of the Sichterheitspolizei, or Sipo,41 and were
subsequently prosecuted for betrayal?42 Or did the former resistance use their leverage,
which was rapidly declining, to gain influence over the prosecution of its own people? Indeed, both parties claimed to be the initiators of the Honour Court. In the end, both sides probably benefitted from the Court. By seeking counsel from the former resistance, the process of transitional justice and the Special Administration of Justice gained legitimacy from the general population, even when this entailed the prosecution of former resisters. At the same time, the former resistance had the tendency to try and uphold its own heroic reputation. This tendency, together with a general sense of cohesion within the ranks of the
39 NIOD, 197d, inv. 1, letter from Minister of Justice to GAC, 3-5-46. 40 Ibidem.
41 While the Court tended to speak of the SD, in reality the Sipo personnel hunted Dutch resisters. The
Sicherheitspolizei und SD were closely connected. The incorrect use of the term SD will not be adopted here.
11 resistance organizations, created the necessity to intervene in cases against former
resisters.
The Court gave some parts of the former resistance a sense of power and influence over the prosecution of its own people. At the same time, the justice apparatus could justify their prosecution of resisters, as they were taking the advice from the former resistance. Therefore, the creation of the Court was arguably interplay between the Justice Department and the former resistance. The Court’s chairman strengthened this presumption. Former resister and Engelandvaarder43 Gerrit Jan van Heuven Goedhart was Minister of Justice for
the government-in-exile from 11th July 1944 until his resignation in February 1945.44 This
reveals the close connection between the Justice Department and the Court; the
communication lines were probably short. Even more importantly, as Minister of Justice, van Heuven Goedhart attempted to take responsibility out of the resistance’s hands and regain control. The government-in-exile’s fear for the power of ‘the resistance’ could be compared with the ideas of A.M. Meerloo, a psychiatrist who advised the Military Authority. He expressed fears in relation to the repatriation of Dutch former prisoners, which could also be applied to former resisters after the liberation. He stated ‘the feeling of martyrdom can reach dangerous proportions.’45 This could lead to an underground-mentality, where ‘us
– the martyrs – can do everything better.’46 Therefore, the establishment demanded the
resistance’s role to end after the liberation, in order for the conventional powers to take over again. Despite some protest, the government managed to demobilize the former Dutch resistance movement with the help of the loyal politician Heuven Goedhart on their side.47
The Court can be seen as a last straw from the new government after which the power of the former resistance movement was eliminated. This co-operation between the
government and a selection of high-ranking former resisters was a preventive operation in order to keep potential scandals regarding the crimes of former resisters contained and resolve them behind closed doors.
The double role of high-ranking former resisters operating almost like judges could have created many possible conflicts of interest, raising multiple questions. Did these
43 An Engelandvaarder is someone who fled from the Netherlands to England with the intent of actively
opposing the German enemy.
44 Madelon de Keizer, Het Parool 1940-1945. Verzetsblad in Oorlogstijd (Amsterdam 1991) 408-9. 45 Bossenbroek, De Meelstreep, 82.
46 Ibidem.
12 ranking resisters acknowledge the mistakes or crimes committed during the Second World War or did they marginalize them during the process of transitional justice? Interestingly, the Court was not a unique phenomenon in Dutch society. There were many such types of councils throughout society. This form of self-purification was used in
most professions, helping to speed up the process of eliminating 'bad elements'. However, a comparison between the two proved to be difficult. The purification committees had an active role; they chose its own cases and actively pursued them. The Court’s role was passive; it handled cases brought to them by the judicial system. Additionally, the Court provided advice in legal cases - even those involving murder- and was able to advice imprisonment, while the purification committees could exclude someone from their profession. And while the Court operated within the Special Administration of Justice, the purification committees did not. Still, the purification committees remain the institution that most closely resembles the Court.48
The possible prosecution of former resisters can be seen as a deviation from the concept of victor’s justice, as the resisters were part of the victorious part
of society yet were prosecuted for their crimes. However, the amount of cases in which former resisters were prosecuted for crimes committed during the occupation was relatively small. And presumably not all cases against former resisters ended up at the desk of the Court. This means the total number of prosecuted former resisters remains unknown. The Court was only asked to give advice in 113 cases, which included the Special Courts of Justice, the regular courts and court-martial.49 The prosecuted resisters were mostly males,
but amongst them were also two women who were both prosecuted for treason. In the other case studies women were regularly present. They solely tended to have a supportive role as courier or were the mistress of a lawless resister.
Furthermore, it is probable that most potentially punishable offences remained hidden within the former resistance organizations. As a result, the affairs that became known through trial were just a small portion of the total criminal activities perpetrated by resisters. The vast majority of former resisters who were in possession of incriminatory information felt no need to besmirch the reputation of the former resistance as a whole or
48 For more information on purification committees: de Jong, Het Koninkrijk, 12 first part, 333-485. 49 NIOD, 197d, inv. 5-117.
13 wanted to protect themselves and their fellow former resisters.50 However, there are cases
where former resisters denounced their peers: for moral reasons or simply out of spite. In one of the case studies, the former resister van de Berg, who was part of the illegal newspaper 'De Vrije Gooi- en Eemlander'51, indicted his fellow former resisters van
Dijk and Bakker for swindling with resistance money. At the same time, van de Berg accused the 'KP Peter', a paramilitary unit both men were members of, of being a 'gang of robbers and drunks'.52 First, van de Berg went to the police and the Politieke Recherche Afdeling
(PRA), or Political Investigation Service, which was the successor of the Politieke
Opsporingsdienst (POD). While the POD’s were constructed locally in cooperation with the municipal police, the PRA worked on behalf of the Special Courts of Justice located in Leeuwarden, Amsterdam, The Hague, ‘s-Hertogenbosch and Arnhem. Local differences created a lack of uniformity within the POD and PRA.53 They were tasked with tracking down
and investigating ‘bad elements’ in Dutch society.54
Both the PRA and police did not wished to file a case against Bakker and van Dijk. They referred van de Berg to the local former resistance, which created a council to investigate van de Berg's indictments in September 1945. However, 'when the case was investigated by the 'Raad der Illegaliteit' of Hilversum, Smit suggested a cover-up.'55 Smit
was a former resisters and member of the Stichting 1940-1945 where van Dijk was secretary. However, van de Berg decided to keep pushing, which landed the case at the court-martial. On 4th December 1947 the court-martial sent the case file to the Court,
which gave their advice in May 1948.56 One of the Courts' members, S. Schootstra, was
conspicuous: 'the indictment is based on emotions, not on facts. Therefore, it is very weak. However, the main point is that this case should have stayed within the circles of the former resistance, and not in the hands of the Justice Department.'57 Subsequently, the
court-martial was advised not to prosecute.58
50 Nationaal Archief, Centraal Archief Bijzondere Rechtspleging, inv. 110215, police statement 2-3-47. 51 NIOD, 197d, inv. 53, hearing report 6-4-48.
52 NIOD, 197d, inv. 53, advice 14-5-48.
53 Henry L. Mason, The purge of the Dutch Quislings. Emergency justice in The Netherlands (The Hague 1952)
55.
54 Von Benda-Beckmann, 266.
55 NIOD, 197d, inv. 53, advice 14-5-48. 56 Ibidem.
57 Ibidem. 58 Ibidem.
14 This was quite unique as most cases handled by the Court strictly emerged from the pathway of law enforcement. Police investigations either started right after the offense or later on when someone tipped off the police. There were three pathways through which a case could end up at the Court. Firstly, the cases of betrayal - after falling into German hands - were part of the Special Courts of Justice. Secondly, regular courts
handled cases involving corruption and questionable assassinations by resisters.59 There is
one exception; if resisters were part of the Binnenlandse Strijdkrachten (BS) or Internal Armed Forces they were part of the Dutch army and therefore prosecuted through the court-martial.
Looking at the sparse historiography, it becomes evident not all cases against former resisters ended up at the desk of the Honour Court. In her research on the Special
Administration of Justice in Groningen, Dutch jurist W.E. Meiboom described a different procedure regarding the prosecution of multiple resisters. In Groningen nine out of ten cases involved betrayal. The sentences ranged from three months to twenty years in prison. Only two out of nine former resisters were acquitted. The tenth case entailed a raid, which turned into brute robbery. The three suspects faced four years in prison but were eventually sentenced to two months. However, Meiboom did not mention the role of the Court. In Meiboom’s studythe possibility to prosecute former resisters was described as some kind of compromise: the former resisters could be prosecuted but under two conditions.60 Firstly,
the Advocaat-Fiscaal had to send back every case involving a former resister to the
Procureur-Fiscaal at the Special Court of Justice. They judged whether prosecution would be opportune. When the Procureur-Fiscaal considered prosecution necessary, they re-sent the case back to the Advocaat-Fiscaal. Secondly, if the former resister was prosecuted, the Justice Department needed to ask advice from a former resistance organization.61 However,
it remained unclear which organization Meiboom pointed to. Interestingly, Meiboom
emphasized that both conditions, sending the case back to the Procureur-Fiscaal and getting
59 NIOD, 197d, inv. 1-4.
60 W.E. Meiboom, Bijzonder bestraft. Context, analyse en waardering van de bijzondere rechtspraak door de
Kamer Groningen van het Bijzonder Gerechtshof Leeuwarden en van cassaties in Groningse zaken (Noordwijk
2016) 179-181.
61 Meiboom, Bijzonder bestraft, 180. Meiboom speaks of ‘de Organisatie van Oud-Verzetsstrijders’, however
there was no organization with this name. Meiboom possibly meant the Gemeenschap van Oud-Illegale
15 advice from a former resistance organization, were not met.62 Meiboom’s study proves that
the Court was not involved in all cases against former resisters.
Influence in the Special Administration of Justice
The handling of crimes committed by former resisters can be placed within the broader perspective of the former resistance's influence in the Special Administration of Justice and the purge of society. The GAC viewed the societies' purge to be their job: they had the moral right and expertise to do so. Therefore, the GAC established a purge section on 23rd
May 1945. This section was assigned to influence the purge policy. However, the Dutch government refused to commit to the GAC and its purge section. This blunt rejection did not rule out extensive local influence of the former resistance in the purge.63 Subsequently,
former resistance members and those affiliated with ‘the resistance’ during the occupation, were appointed into numerous top positions in the post-war legal body. They had
a substantive role in the process of transitional justice in the Netherlands. For instance, the PRA partly consisted of former resisters. These men had to be trained in order to be able to take part in the transitional justice system.64 The Dutch village Velsen is a striking example
of the deep involvement of ‘the resistance’ in the prosecution of collaborators. In Velsen, a group of law enforcement and justice civil servants occupied top positions in the local resistance during the occupation. Dutch historian Bas von Benda-Beckmann researched the matter; he documented the intertwinement of ‘the resistance’ and police apparatus, and concluded they were forced to walk the fine line between collaboration and resistance. A strict dividing line between resisting and collaborating was often impossible. This fine line relates to the question whether the expected benefits compensate for the costs of
collaboration. For example, police officers functioned as inside men for resistance
organizations. Whilst they aided ‘the resistance’, collaboration was inevitable to maintain their position within the police department.65
The influence of these civil servants continued after the liberation in the process of transitional justice. The fine line between resisting and collaboration created controversy in the post-war Netherlands. Were these men to be deemed legitimate as resistance leaders
62 Meiboom, Bijzonder bestraft, 179-181. 63 Romijn, Snel, streng en rechtvaardig, 102-3. 64 von Benda-Beckmann, De Velser affaire, 266. 65 von Benda-Beckmann, De Velser affaire, 11-12.
16 during the occupation, and later on as members of the Special Courts of Justice in the post-war society?66 The most famous example is Nico Sikkel, the local commander of the Internal
Armed Forces and the Dutch Prime Minister's brother-in-law. He was appointed as Procureur-Fiscaal at the Special Court of Justice in Amsterdam.67
This group of former resisters was in charge of the prosecution of collaborators and war criminals. Possible conflicts of interest arose, as the accused were responsible for the investigation into their own behaviour or that of their fellow former resisters. For instance, there were complaints about Sikkel regarding collaboration and self-enrichment during the occupation and corruption afterwards.68 As Procureur-Fiscaal, Sikkel was able to influence
the investigation. The case of Velsen turned into a big affair in the post-war world, and encompassed many conspiracy theories, including one on the possible elimination of Communist resisters by the Dutch government-in-exile.69 Interestingly, von
Benda-Beckmann stated that local resisters, who indicted their former commanders, made most accusations.70
The controversy regarding the influence of former resisters and possible conflicts of interest went further than just the case in Velsen. Former resisters occupied seats in Special Courts of Justice throughout the Netherlands in order to prosecute collaborators. This brings up a broader question: what problems and tensions were created by the extensive involvement of the former resistance in the transitional justice process through
the Bijzondere Rechtspleging or the Special Administration of Justice? Although this
question does not directly touch upon the Court, the extensive involvement was an attempt by the former resistance organizations to influence the prosecution of regular political delinquents and that of former resisters. Additionally, the Velser affaire is an example of what the Court attempted to prevent: a large-scale scandal involving crimes of the former Dutch resistance.
The resistance’s involvement in the transitional justice process had its origins during the occupation, reaching beyond the Special Courts of Justice. Resistance leaders started to form their own ideas about the purge of the future post-war Dutch society. These ideas
66 von Benda-Beckmann, De Velser affaire, 348. 67 Idem, 7-9.
68 Idem, 8. 69 Idem, 7-10. 70 Idem, 121.
17 were far more radical than those of the London based government-in-exile, which started out quite radical but became more moderate and realistic towards the liberation. The government-in-exile attempted to get a grip on the multitude of resistance organizations in the Netherlands by forcing the Dutch resisters to become more organized. All armed resistance groups were merged into the Internal Armed Forces, from September 1944 onwards. Just prior to this, the leaders of ‘the resistance’ started their attempts to influence the government-in-exile's future policy through the creation of the GAC in July 1944.71
Moreover, at the time of the liberation and in the immediate period afterwards, the Internal Armed Forces played an important role. They were responsible for maintaining public order, arresting local collaborators and guarding these prisoners. This turned out to be the most criticized task performed by the Internal Armed Forces, because of the widespread occurrence of excesses in the first phase after the liberation.72
While the arrests of political delinquents and their prosecution is extensively described in Dutch historiography, research on the prosecution of former resisters is still largely absent. Historiography has barely touched upon the Honour Court. This is striking, as numerous comparable councils and advice bodies have been extensively described and analyzed.73 The absence of the Court in the biography of its chairman, Gerrit Jan
van Heuven Goedhart, is outstanding with this aspect of his career simply left out.74 While
the Court has barely been mentioned or analyzed in the historiography, many individual cases, involving questionable or criminal activities by resisters have been extensively
analysed. Examples include the aforementioned affair in Velsen, the questionable morals of the paramilitary group KP Westland led by resisters Piet Doelman
in De Afrekening. Ontmaskering van het gewapend verzet and the guerrilla practices of some armed resistance groups in Rotterdam researched by
Albert Oosthoek in Nieuw licht op liquidaties. Knokploegen in Rotterdam 1944-1945.75
They touched upon the same moral dilemmas of transgression during the Second World
71 Romijn, Snel, streng en rechtvaardig, 36-38. 72 de Jong, Het Koninkrijk, 10a first part, 850-1.
73 For instance: de Jong, Het Koninkrijk, 12 first part, 333-485; Romijn, Snel, streng en rechtvaardig, 81-163. 74 See: Jeroen Corduwener, Riemen om de kin! Biografie van Mr. Dr. Gerrit Jan van Heuven Goedhart
(Amsterdam 2011).
75 For more information: von Benda-Beckmann, De Velser affaire, 141-143; Maarten van Buuren, De
afrekening. Ontmaskering van het gewapende verzet (Rotterdam 2011) 36; Albert Oosthoek, Nieuw licht op liquidaties. Knokploegen in Rotterdam 1944-1945 (Soesterberg 2015) 34.
18 War and the transitional justice process afterwards. These examples touched upon the Court sideways, as the Court handled some of these cases. Interestingly, Meulenbelt wrote about the success of one of the biggest former resistance organizations,
the Grote Adviescommissie der Illegaliteit (GAC), regarding the prosecution of former resisters. The stated, the Court’s work 'could not prevent that a resister, who had cracked during its arrest and had provided the Germans with information about his work and organisation – for which he had to account for – was treated as an average political delinquent.'76
This thesis will be the first research into the complete body of files produced by the Court and therefore the first in-depth discussion of multiple cases from the Court's perspective. The research of multiple case studies allows a valuable comparison, which tells us more about the code of conduct within the Dutch resistance. It provides insight into the justification of resistance during the occupation and afterwards. Therefore, the main-question is: What does the functioning of the National Honour Court of the Resistance tell us about the practice of resistance during the occupation and its legitimization through the resistance myth afterwards?
In order to answer this question, it is necessary to start the first chapter by providing an overview. The leading question is: What did the Dutch resistance entail and how was the former resistance involved in the transitional justice process through
the Bijzondere Rechtspleging? A discussion of the Dutch resistance during the occupation and its place in the Dutch historiography will follow to create a broad base. Crucial is the transgression within the guidelines, which could lead resisters to perpetrate potentially punishable offences. Subsequently, an analysis of the role of the former Dutch resistance in the transitional justice process will follow. In order to put the Dutch case into perspective, the transitional justice process in Belgium and France will briefly be reviewed. Lastly, the focus of this thesis will move to the Court itself. Which former resisters took seat in the Court? And what was the Court’s specific job within the process of transitional justice?
The following three chapters will be thematic, as the Court broadly handled three
different types of cases: betrayal, assassination and raids. Several case studies derived from the files of the Honour Court will be reviewed in depth within their respective chapters. The
19 archives of the Court, which can be found at the NIOD, Institute for War, Holocaust and Genocide Studies, will be analyzed in order to assess the advices in these cases.77 Apart from
the case studies, the entire body of advices will be studied. This provides information on how the Honour Court operated and in what way this fitted in with the process of transitional justice. The post-war interpretation of the potentially punishable offences by the Landelijke Ereraad der Illegaliteit forms an especially interesting case. How were they able to judge afterwards? What particular guidelines did the Court use? Were these
guidelines the same ones as the rules that were formed in a scattered and vague way during the occupation? However, this creates a one-sided view. The view of the Court and the former resisters is represented, but that of the Justice Department remains absent. To create a two-sided view, it is necessary to incorporate the prosecuting side and their judicial outlook. What happened before the case landed at the Court, and how did the justice apparatus handle the advice?
In order to include the prosecuting side, more extensive files from the National Archives, the so-called Centraal Archief Bijzondere Rechtspleging (CABR), or Special Courts of Justice archives, will also be examined.78 However, not all former resisters from the case
studies can be traced at the CABR or other archives, and therefore a two-sided approach will be used whenever possible. This provides the opportunity to compare the information available in the files of the CABR archive and the Court’s archive. This can
potentially reveal striking dissimilarities of view. Furthermore, the body of advices produced by the Court will allow us to unscramble whether the Court judged equally in all cases, and if betrayal, assassination or raids were given a softer approach. For instance, the Court stated that ‘regarding assassinations naturally stricter norms apply’.79 The case studies will be used
to check this assertion and reveal more information about the moral norms handled by the Court when deciding on the fate of their own former fellow resistance colleagues and lead to the core question. But first, the history of the Dutch resistance and the transitional justice process need to be addressed in the following chapter.
77 This is a closed archive, which requires the anonymization of names and the use of pseudonyms. The
fictitious names are: Van de Berg; van Dijk; Bakker; Smit; Meijer; de Boer; Mulder; Peters; van Leeuwen; Dekker; Brouwer; de Wit; Dijkstra; de Graaf; van der Meer; van der Linden; Kok; Jacobs; Schouten; Willems; Hoekstra; Maas; Verhoeven; Koster; Prins; Huisman; Kramer; Vink; Groen; Gerritsen; Timmerman; Jonker; Koning; Evers; Bosman; Mol; Verbeek; Hofman; Wolters; Koopman; Simons; de Haas; Boon; Zijlstra; Schaap.
78 Ibidem.
20 Chapter 1 - Resistance and Special Justice in the Netherlands
The German occupation is still considered ‘a crucial and formative experience’ in recent Dutch history, as is reflected by the intense historical debate on the Dutch resistance and right and wrong in post-war society.80 The occupation turned out to be traumatizing
and humiliating.81 The Dutch took great pride in their position of neutrality during the First
World War and the interwar period. Their pride was crushed when Nazi Germany invaded and occupied the Netherlands.82 From then on, the Netherlands were governed by Dr.
Arthur Seyss-Inquart, who ‘led a government of supervision.’83 The Dutch civil servants
mostly remained in place and were placed under the supervision of the Nazi authorities.84
They co-operated and thereby contributed to the persecution of the Dutch Jews. However, the aversion against the new situation initially focused predominantly on the Dutch National Socialist (NSB) organization. Its members were considered traitors.
The first steps towards underground activities involved symbolic resistance; they were small, patriotic acts.85 They were illegal but remained unpunished during this period of
‘mutual courtesy’.86 Early organized resistance attempts were engineered by the former
Dutch army members, explaining why their goals and ‘organizational structures also took military forms.’87 These first initiatives were small, not widely known and definitely not
unconditionally supported by the Dutch society.88 Activities involved developing the illegal
press, gathering weapons, conducting spying activities for the Allied forces, organizing escape lines and performing small-scale sabotage.89 However, due to ‘amateurism,
innocence and unfamiliarity with illegal activities’ the ‘German security apparatus’ quickly dismantled most early groups.90
80 Deák, Gross, Judt, The Politics of Retribution in Europe, 174.
81 Lagrou (2003). The Politics of memory. European Review, 11, 527-549. 82 Deák, Gross, Judt, The Politics of Retribution in Europe, 174-5.
83 Idem, 174. 84 Ibidem.
85 Moore, Resistance in Western Europe, 193. 86 Ibidem.
87 Idem, 194.
88 Bart van der Boom, 'We leven nog'. De stemming in bezet Nederland (Amsterdam 2003) 98.
89 Dick van Galen Last, 'The Netherlands' in: Bob Moore (ed.), Resistance in Western Europe, (Oxford 2000)
189-222.
21 Historiography traditionally valued the armed branch of the Dutch resistance the most. However, the civilian resistance tried to lift up the Dutch spirit through the illegal press, which involved many resistance organizations. Another main focus for the civilian resistance was helping people go into hiding and sustaining them through the Landelijke Organisatie (LO). Recognizing this is an important part of the Dutch resistance, it is not the subject of this thesis.
However, civilian resistance activities could lead to betrayal after arrest. Although betrayal charges were not linked to a specific resistance activity there is probably a minor relation between the nature of the resisters' activities and the likelihood of betrayal. Compared to civilian resistance, armed resisters were likely targeted more fiercely by the Sipo. But in the end, arrest and betrayal could happen to every resister. And in the case of raids and assassination, the link to a specific act of resistance was evident. Therefore, the main focus needs to be on armed resistance, as it contained the greatest risk for escalation and excesses. Still, civilian resistance is an important and essential part of the Dutch
resistance movement with the February strike as one of its highlights. This first widely supported act of resistance took place after 400 Jewish men and boys were deported following German raids in Amsterdam's Jewish quarter. Prior to this event, the introduction of multiple anti-Jewish legislations and fights between Dutch national socialists and Jewish self-defence groups on the streets of Amsterdam created major tension. Subsequently, the general fear of a new government led by the NSB created even more general support for the strike.91
Within two days the strike was crushed, followed by the execution of three Communist strikers and fifteen resisters. The Dutch population was shocked by the executions; this ended the period of mutual courtesy.92 In December 1942, after Anton
Mussert's installation as leader of the Dutch people, fear reoccurred for a possible future NSB-government leading to the murder of multiple collaborators by resisters. The German occupier responded by hastening the Nazification process in Dutch society. Ironically, this effort only increased the extent of passive and active resistance.93 Subsequently, the
91 van Galen Last, 'The Netherlands', 195-6. 92 Moore, Resistance in Western Europe, 196. 93 Moore, Resistance in Western Europe, 199.
22 May strike took place in 1943. According to Sémelin, this strike formed ‘the most immediate and spectacular reaction of popular discontent’ against the German decision of recalling ‘tens of thousands of Dutch soldiers’ back to service.94 It was the next public and widely
supported act of resistance, forcing a great amount of young men into hiding. The magnitude of Dutch resistance increased because of this increased number of people in hiding. The February strike of 1941 and the April-May strike of 1943 were both expressions of an increasing anti-German sentiment in the Dutch society. However, this anti-German opinion was not the most likely instigator for the expansion in resistance during the second half of the occupation. The Arbeitseinsatz, which forced a large portion of the Dutch men to fulfil forced labour inside Germany, was. It greatly increased the demand for even more hiding places. The Dutch historian Bart van der Boom stated that 'maybe this was the decisive factor: not the supply - a growing sentiment of resistance - but the demand: the desire of going underground.'95 This assertion by van der Boom pointed away from solely
ideological motives for resistance and revealed the more practical reasons for people turning to resisting. The most crucial events enlarging Dutch resistance were D-Day and ‘Dolle Dinsdag’ in September 1944, giving people a sense that liberation was approaching.96
The first opportunity for the Dutch resistance to assist in the liberation of the Netherlands appeared during the Allied airborne landing near Arnhem in September 1944, called Operation Market Garden. In order to support these efforts, the Dutch government-in-exile simultaneously called for a general railway strike. While the Allied advance was stopped during the winter of 1944, the railway strike continued and paralyzed transports. The striking railway workers all needed to find hiding places, which created yet more
practical incentives for resistance.97 According to Deák, the railway strike 'harmed the Dutch
civilians more than it harmed the Germans’ as ‘thousands of Dutch people died of
starvation.’98 Instead of restoring the railway system, the Germans unexpectedly used the
94 Sémelin, Unarmed against Hitler, 83. 95 van der Boom, We leven nog, 98.
96 Moore, Resistance in Western Europe, 213. 97 Déak, Europe on Trial, 127.
23 strike to cut off food and fuel supplies to western parts of the Netherlands. This led to famine during the winter of 1944-1945, the so-called ‘Hongerwinter’, or Hungerwinter.99
The armed resistance focused on several activities. Paramilitary units organized raids through the Landelijke Knokploegen (LKP). They worked in close cooperation with the LO to provide those in hiding with the bare necessities. According to Moore ‘the LO-LKP became the largest resistance organization with 15,000 members.’100 He furthered ‘the
most characteristic form of resistance in the Netherlands was undoubtedly going into hiding.’101 The hiding industry was a mix of civilian and armed resistance. This stood in bare
contrast against the death rate of Dutch Jews, which was the highest in Western Europe. While 75 per cent of French Jews and 60 per cent of Belgium Jews survived the Holocaust, in the Netherlands only 27 per cent of Jews survived.102 Other organizations of the armed
resistance were involved in sabotage and assassination of mostly German soldiers, high-ranking Nazi officials, Dutch collaborators and traitors from both the outside and inside of ‘the resistance’.103 During the last phase of the occupation, the main parties of the armed
resistance - the Landelijke Knokploegen (LKP), Raad van Verzet (RVV) and Ordedienst (OD) – were joined together in September 1944 into the Binnenlandse Strijdkrachten (BS) under the command of Prince Bernhard van Lippe-Biesterfeld. As previously mentioned, this was a strategical move by the government-in-exile, supported by van Heuven Goedhart.104
According to Dutch historian Madelon de Keizer, his motive for fleeing to London had been to convince the government-in-exile of the need for centralization and to provide much needed first-hand information on the state of the Dutch resistance.105 The
government-in-exile agreed with the need for centralization, they wanted to restore their grip on the soon to be liberated society and unification was a way to attain this. Similar developments were visible in nearby countries.
99 Moore, Resistance in Western Europe, 203-4. 100 Moore, Resistance in Western Europe, 214. 101 Ibidem.
102 Marnix Croes, The Holocaust in the Netherlands and the Rate of Jewish Survival, Holocaust and Genocide
Studies, Volume 20, Issue 3, 1 December 2006, 474–499.
103 von Benda-Beckmann, De Velser affaire, 123.
104 Enquêtecommissie regeringsbeleid 1940-1945 Verslag houdende de uitkomsten van het onderzoek (The
Hague 1973) part 7c, 22-9; de Keizer, Het Parool 1940-1945, 408-11.
24 On many occasions, rivalry between local groups increased as an indirect
consequence of centralization. When centralization failed, acts of resistance were difficult to control for those who did attempt to take on leadership. Another complicating factor
towards the end of the German occupation and right after the liberation was the extensive growth of the Internal Armed Forces, which was made up of people who were not part of ‘the resistance’ before.106 Amongst these newcomers were a substantial number of
opportunists and criminals, who were extremely hard to get a grip on. Van der Heijden stated that the image of the Internal Armed Forces became extremely negative, which reflected badly onto the entire armed resistance, including the old core of resisters.107
Circumstances became especially grievous during the 'Hongerwinter' of 1944-1945 that led to the death of at least 15.000 Dutch people.108 A large portion of the population was forced
to accept moral decay in order to survive. Crime rates surged and the black market boomed as the police force was increasingly unable to perform its job.109 For example, many groups
of criminals used ‘the resistance’ as a cloak for their own practices of theft and black trade or even murder.110 Of course, the reputation of ‘the resistance’ was severely harmed by
these criminal practices. Resisters thwarted criminals by handing them to the authorities or by 'dealing' with them themselves, through either a written or spoken warning, a violent beating or assassination. However, genuine resisters sometimes did take part in black trade in order to survive.111 Hence, the boundary between resistance and crime became
increasingly blurred. Precise rules were absent and leaders struggled to uphold authority. Sémelin’s distinction between a pre-Stalingrad and post-Stalingrad resistance is not entirely applicable to the Dutch resistance. Two events in September 1944, the railway strike
followed by the Hongerwinter and creation of the Internal Armed Forces, form a more significant turning point.
As was alluded to in the introduction, in contrast to the resistance myth of a unified heroic resistance that was loved by the Dutch population, the sentiment of Dutch society towards resistance was not universally positive. Initially, resistance was generally admired,
106 Belinfante, In plaats van bijltjesdag. De geschiedenis van de bijzondere rechtspleging na de Tweede
Wereldoorlog (Assen 1978) 66.
107 van der Heijden, Dat nooit meer, 119. 108 Moore, Resistance in Western Europe, 204. 109 Sémelin, Unarmed against Hitler, 125-6. 110 von Benda-Beckmann, De Velser affaire, 125. 111 Oosthoek, Nieuw licht op liquidaties, 163.
25 but some contemporaneously considered it a continuation of the armed struggle that could not be won. To them, resistance was only useful during the final battle after the Allied invasion. Yet, after the first execution of resisters in the spring of 1941, bitterness arose against the Germans and the victims were admired for their courage. However, a counter view was also present, as within Dutch society 'not everyone considered the costs-benefit analyse of resistance to be positive.'112 Resistance affected the society as a whole and was
not only dangerous for the resister. German reprisals made sure that either innocent bystanders or hostages would die for the actions of the Dutch resistance. This was hard to digest for a substantial part of the Dutch people and most likely negatively affected the conception of Dutch resistance.113 It is interesting to see how the Honour Court handled
these moral dilemmas.
Early historiography on the Second World War in the Netherlands primarily focused on the positive role of the Dutch resistance. The early and influential work Het Koninkrijk der Nederlanden in de Tweede Wereldoorlog by de Jong was later on criticized for depicting the Dutch occupation as a battle between ‘goed en fout’ (good versus evil), with good
representing resistance and evil representing collaboration. However, de Jong’s extensive study remained influential because of its factual richness. This changed from the 1980s onwards, when Dutch historian Hans Blom encouraged historians to step away from this moralistic approach. The most striking example of the withdrawal from judgement between good and evil, or white and black, was the introduction of “grey” by van der Heijden. He stressed that the majority of the Dutch population did not choose either side; they did everything in their power to plainly survive the occupation in one piece.114 Indirectly, this
approach implicated a moral judgement for those in the grey category, as they did not join the resisting side. While Blom had called for nuance, his plea manifested itself in
historiography as just another moral category: that of grey. Dutch historian Ismee Tames acknowledged this: ‘whether the boundary between right and wrong can be defined as dark grey or light grey is actually a repeat of the same binary moral divisions.’115 Judging from
these examples, it seems challenging for historians to refrain themselves from casting the Dutch occupational history in a simple moral judgement.
112 van der Boom, We leven nog, 90. 113 Idem, 91.
114 Chris van der Heijden, Grijs verleden. Nederland en de Tweede Wereldoorlog (Amsterdam 2001) 16. 115 Tames, Over grenzen, 27.
26 The historiography on Dutch resistance also started to add grey categories into its contemplations. The morality of resisters and the line between resistance and crime is especially influenced by authors’ moral judgement in historiography. The increased criticism of the role of the Dutch resistance and the breakdown of the stereotypical heroic resister archetype is useful when trying to reach a more nuanced image of resistance. However, most authors simply turned grey into black. This moral judgement does not add to our understanding of the resisters' motivation or the moral dilemmas and choices they faced. An example of this problem is Dutch historian Oosthoek's dissertation, titled Nieuw licht op liquidaties. Knokploegen in Rotterdam 1944-1945. Oosthoek's study detailed assassinations in Rotterdam. He stated that he partly agreed with Blom on the fact that it is useless for historians to cast judgement.
However, he disagreed with the notion that historians should be neutral and refrain from judgement in the case of persistent myths. He also felt that the former resistance in the post-war Netherlands covered up the history of assassinations and other doubtful activities. While this view seems useful, he also felt that the historians’ job is to debunk myths and uncover cover ups, hence ‘it seems to be right to judge when it concerns war crimes.’116 He characterized the assassinations by the armed resistance in the city of
Rotterdam as useless and wrong. However, this condemnation does not help explain the motives behind the assassinations and the cover up policy afterwards. An even more striking example of this view is the study De afrekening. Ontmaskering van het gewapend verzet by Dutch professor of French literature Maarten van Buuren. He attempted to do the same thing Oosthoek did: settle the accounts and debunk myths. He formed generalizations about the entire Dutch armed resistance on the basis of a crime committed by Piet Doelman and the resistance group he was heading.117
An international example of adding grey in historiography is the work Under the Shadow of the Swastika. The Moral Dilemmas of Resistance and Collaboration in Hitler’s Europe by British historian Rab Bennett. He focused on the concept of collective
responsibility: to what extent could resisters justify their actions, when it led to violent repercussions? He tested the moral framework of resistance to the laws of war, and
116 Oosthoek, Nieuw licht op liquidaties, 46.
27 whether resisters actually abided by their own moral standards. Bennett gave an example about the questioning, torture and assassination of collaborators and traitors. He
questioned: ‘By crossing the line and committing those deeds, had they destroyed
something, not just in the enemy, but in themselves: the thing that they valued more than life itself – the reason for resistance?’118 Bennett also wondered: ‘are some means
impermissible even when employed in an overwhelmingly just cause?’119 He further stated
that ‘the war against the Nazi occupation was a struggle to defend certain basic values, yet the prosecution of that war witnessed the crumbling of resistance standards.’120
Thereby Bennett also seemed to cast a moral judgement. The statement could possibly lose some of the moral condemnation if ‘crumbling’ is replaced by transgression. This term suggests the changing morals are part of a natural process, influenced by certain events during the course of the occupation. Still, Bennett made valuable contributions to resistance historiography.
The before-mentioned study by von Benda-Beckmann explored the dividing line between resistance and crime, and between resistance and collaboration. The author again encountered the lack of a uniform moral code for the Dutch resistance. Most authors condemned the overlapping roles of resisters in both ‘the resistance’ and the police force, as this collaborating role could be marked as a grey area turned black. However, von Benda-Beckmann called this situation ‘the twilight zone’. He did not judge the choices these men made and instead looked at their motivations and moral framework.121 Is it possible for
historians to cast judgement on the past using current moral standards? In order to try, it is most useful to look at the resisters themselves. What were their motives, and in this case in what moral framework did they operate? The well-known British historian Ian Kershaw indicated that ‘historical understanding of resistance cannot be attained by elevating resistance fighters into monumentalized heroes but only by placing them squarely in their time and context and trying to understand their actions, in all their fallibility.’122
118 Rab Bennett, Under the Shadow of the Swastika. The Moral Dilemmas of Resistance and Collaboration in
Hitler’s Europe (Basingstoke 1999) 155.
119 Ibidem. 120 Ibidem.
121 von Benda-Beckmann, De Velser affaire, 125.
28 Transgression
The term transgression mainly refers to the second half of the occupation, when the situation between the German and resisting side escalated. Resisters expanded their activities and as a result the moral boundary between justified and unjustified activities slowly shifted. Because resisters became more violent, even more violent reprisals followed. Especially assassinations of important German personnel and high-ranking Dutch
collaborators led to extremely violent reprisals, mainly by executing prisoners. The British historian Robert Gildea described the consequences of this escalation of violence in the French case: ‘Thus violence drove wedges not only between French and Germans but also between resisters and communities.’123
While politically motivated assassinations were rejected at first, collaborationist General Hendrik Seyffardt was assassinated in February 1943. This had created controversy within the resistance milieu. 124 Trouw, one of the biggest illegal newspapers, wrote: 'An
unlawful criminal court, because the sword of law enforcement belongs to the government, not with private individuals.'125 Soon after Seyffardt's assassination, more political
assassinations followed, but the controversy never fully disappeared.126
The process of change was described by Tames as ‘the liminal phase, in which the old identity has been shed but a new identity has not yet asserted itself. Here we come to the essence of what constitutes an experience: the transformations we undergo, identities that are lost or that come to the surface.’127 The same process of transgression could also
happen later on when the moral framework shifted again. There is no limit on the number of possible transgressions. The risk of an escalation of violence is always slumbering in the case of war and occupation. Indeed, during the last phase of the occupation ‘the resistance’ used increasingly more violence and was countered by even more violent German
123 Robert Gildea, Marianne in chains. In Search of the German Occupation 1940-1945 (Oxford 2002) 259. 124 de Jong, Het Koninkrijk, 7 second part, 971.
125 Oosthoek, Nieuw licht op liquidaties, 51. 126 Moore, Resistance in Western Europe, 211. 127 Tames, Over grenzen, 29.
