THE HAGUE, Netherlands — On Dutch Openness Day, the recent unearthing of classified documents from state archives prompted Peter Baas to ponder the true legacy of his father as a World War II resistance fighter. While many in the Netherlands were occupied with cleaning up the remnants of New Year’s Eve celebrations on January 1, countless others were delving into a newly launched database that lists approximately 425,000 individuals who were investigated for collaboration with the Nazi regime from 1940 to 1945. Some searched out of curiosity, while others were driven by a sense of apprehension.
Among those listed was Ludolf Baas, known for his courageous acts as a resistance fighter who concealed microfilm detailing Nazi crimes beneath his clothing to smuggle it across enemy lines. Upon discovering his father’s name in the database, Peter Baas experienced a jolt of shock and began to question whether his father’s heroic narrative might be tainted, grappling with the fear that he too might bear the stigma associated with collaboration. “The publication of the list of names has caused great social unrest,” noted the NIOD Institute for War, Holocaust and Genocide Studies in a recent statement. This institution, established shortly after the Netherlands was liberated, has since urged governmental intervention regarding the matter.
The subject of Nazi collaboration is fraught with controversy in the Netherlands and wider Europe, often clouded by family secrets and a history of silence. Initially perceived as a refuge for persecuted populations, the Dutch landscape shifted drastically after the country capitulated to German forces in 1940. Tragically, only 27% of the Jewish community in the Netherlands survived the Holocaust, a stark contrast to survival rates in France and Belgium, where collaboration made the oppressive measures of persecution more effective.
Decades after the war, many remain anxious about the implications of this legacy. Holocaust scholar Aline Pennewaard remarked on the persistence of bullying linked to family histories, illustrating her point with social media outcries against Dutch politicians simply for sharing a surname with someone on the investigative list. Privacy issues also emerged in the discourse surrounding these records. While the National Archive originally aimed to digitize and publish a wide range of documents, including secret police files and witness statements, these plans changed following a warning from the Dutch privacy authority regarding potential violations of EU privacy legislation. Consequently, only names and associated file numbers are currently accessible.
To access detailed information about his father’s case, Peter Baas would need to request an appointment at the archive and travel to The Hague, a significant distance of 650 kilometers (404 miles) from his home in France. He expressed his dismay at the cumbersome process needed to uncover family history, highlighting the strange and complicated nature of seeking answers. Despite these challenges, the demand for information remains high, with Werner Zonderop from the archive reporting that slots for consultation are filled through the end of February, with new time slots booking up almost instantly at midnight.
Documentary filmmaker Marieke van der Winden understands the struggle of confronting uncomfortable family truths. Her film, “The Great Silence,” illuminates the difficulties many face when dealing with the legacy of collaboration. Van der Winden’s personal revelation at her mother’s funeral about her grandfather’s involvement with the Nazis led her to uncover a pattern of collaboration throughout her family history. “It was a family affair,” she noted, advocating for the need to make the entire archive publicly accessible. “They should throw it open,” she asserted.
Support for the archive’s full disclosure has emerged, even from individuals related to known collaborators. Jeroen Saris, head of the Recognition Working Group, emphasized the necessity of discussing these historical issues openly, devoid of blame towards relatives. His organization represents families linked to individuals who supported the Nazis during the war, advocating for a candid societal dialogue. Deeply concerned about his father’s past, Peter Baas sought assistance from a friend in the Netherlands to access his father’s documentation, characterizing the process as “completely bizarre.” The records reveal that his father, at age 19, joined an organization that later became affiliated with the Dutch Nazi party and was subsequently investigated for his membership. “A bad choice of a 19-year-old that was completely reversed by becoming an active member of the resistance,” Baas concluded, reflecting on the complexity of his father’s journey.
