The NSB: Dutch Fascism’s Promise and Pitfalls

Episode Narrative

The NSB: Dutch Fascism’s Promise and Pitfalls

In the early years of the next century, Europe was a tense tapestry of shifting loyalties and emerging ideologies. The First World War, which raged between 1914 and 1918, left scars across nations. While the Netherlands maintained its official neutrality, the echoes of conflict reverberated through its borders. The economic blockade imposed by warring nations led to severe food shortages, rising inflation, and social unrest. Citizens were caught in the storm of desperation and uncertainty, grappling with the consequences of political isolation. This environment cultivated a wary national consciousness. People were reluctant to engage in foreign affairs, yet increasingly susceptible to the siren calls of new, radical ideologies claiming to offer order and stability.

Amidst this backdrop of hardship, a movement began to take shape. In 1931, Anton Mussert and Cornelis van Geelkerken founded the Nationaal-Socialistiche Beweging, or NSB. This new political party breathed life into Dutch nationalism, advocating for an authoritarian, corporatist state. It emerged as a reflection of broader European currents — countries like Germany and Italy were witnessing the rise of fascism, capturing the imaginations of those who felt abandoned by traditional democratic structures. The NSB mirrored these movements, offering a seductive vision of unity, strength, and purpose. Supporters were drawn to its promise of reclaiming national pride in a time when the world felt perilously uncertain.

By 1933, the NSB had adopted various symbols and practices inspired by its European counterparts. Uniforms were donned, marches organized, and Roman salutes became a regular feature at rallies. This keen imitation of fascist aesthetics resonated with a disillusioned populace, resulting in a surge of membership. By 1935, approximately 50,000 people aligned themselves with the NSB. This evident momentum signaled a temporary but notable appeal, as Dutch citizens sought viable alternatives to established political parties. It was a brief, tantalizing glimpse into the allure of extremism during a time of distress.

However, this promise of strength was met with resistance. In 1936, the Dutch Catholic bishops delivered a powerful message: a pastoral letter forbidding Catholics from joining the NSB, underscoring the party's ideological incompatibility with Christian values. This declaration was a decisive blow, contributing significantly to the NSB's declining influence within mainstream society. The growing realization among the public that something was amiss began to manifest. NSB rallies often met with mockery and vehement opposition, including street clashes and satirical spoofs in the press and cabarets. The movement became visible, yet simultaneously marginalized, underscoring a vibrant civil society that was not prepared to yield to fascism without a fight.

As the years moved forward, from 1936 to 1939, the resilience of Dutch democracy shone through. National elections in 1937 signaled a turning point, with the NSB's share of the vote plummeting to a mere 4%. Mainstream parties and grassroots civil society groups mobilized against the threat posed by fascist ideology, reflecting a collective commitment to preserving democratic values. Encouragingly, the spirit of public discourse and community engagement remained alive, a beacon of hope in a landscape where so many others were succumbing to authoritarianism.

Yet, the tide was shifting. The international climate was growing increasingly ominous. As clouds of war gathered over Europe, fears of internal betrayal began to stir among Dutch leaders. In 1939, wary of potential fifth-column activities, the Dutch government took decisive action, banning civil servants from NSB membership. This policy decision further isolated the party, limiting its institutional reach just as tensions escalated on the eve of World War II.

Then, in May 1940, Germany invaded the Netherlands. In that moment, the NSB, despite being a minority party, was quickly embraced by the Nazi occupiers. Anton Mussert saw this as an opportunity. He aspired to lead a “Greater Netherlands” under German hegemony, believing that collaboration would secure the NSB’s place in a new world order. It was a dark twist, revealing the depths of opportunism amid chaos.

From 1940 to 1945, NSB members found themselves appointed to local administrative posts within the structures of Nazi governance. However, they never achieved mass support. The German occupation inspired widespread resentment among the Dutch populace, who largely viewed the NSB's collaboration with contempt. Resistance movements sprang forth from the shadows. Clashes erupted, and acts of defiance flourished as brave men and women rallied together to protect their values and their communities.

By 1941, the NSB had established the Nederlandsche SS, a paramilitary wing that actively participated in the deportation of Dutch Jews. The atrocity deepened when it's estimated that by 1942, over 100,000 Jews were sent to extermination camps, often driven by NSB members serving as informants and enforcers. The moral implications of these actions shattered any veneer of legitimacy the party hoped to maintain.

As the war dragged on, forced labor conscription came into effect, adding an extra layer of misery to an already suffering population. The April to May 1943 railway strike saw masses come together in protests against forced labor. The NSB’s opposition to these strikes revealed their desperate attempt to retain favor with the occupiers, while the brutal suppression by German authorities cast a long shadow over their hopes.

The years of occupation culminated in the winter of 1944–1945, remembered as the “Hongerwinter,” or Hunger Winter. This devastating famine, exacerbated by a German blockade in retaliation for Dutch support of the Allies, claimed the lives of over 20,000 civilians, lost to starvation and the fierce cold. The gravity of this humanitarian crisis deepened public hatred towards the NSB. Their association with the occupiers was not merely a political miscalculation; it became a mark of shame that reverberated painfully through Dutch society.

As the Allies liberated the Netherlands in 1945, the reckoning began. The NSB was swiftly banned. Its leaders arrested, and more than 100,000 alleged collaborators faced investigation. Anton Mussert himself was tried and executed in 1946, becoming a potent symbol of the reckoning with collaboration that the country had to confront.

Yet, the narrative of this dark chapter is more complex than mere betrayal. Throughout the 1930s, various facets of Dutch civil society remained vigilant, employing satire, education, and public debate to defend democratic values against the encroaching shadows of fascism. The Dutch response included a flourishing underground movement, replete with clandestine newspapers like “Het Parool” that breathed life into the spirit of resistance.

The NSB wielded modern propaganda tools, utilizing posters, rallies, and radio broadcasts, but these messages faced formidable challenges from Allied broadcasts and homegrown transmissions, illustrating a fierce media battle for the hearts and minds of the population. The rise and fall of the NSB can be seen in the electoral results of 1935 to 1937, revealing how quickly hope can turn into despair and then back again as public sentiment shifted.

Even amidst the turmoil, there were surprising stories. Some NSB members, driven by complex personal connections, secretly aided Jews or dissidents. These rare instances complicate the narratives of uniform betrayal, reminding us that human choices can be steeped in nuance, often driven by individual circumstances rather than broad ideological alignment.

The legacy of the NSB remains stark. Its inability to secure mass support, even during the dark days of Nazi occupation, serves as a testament to the resilience of Dutch democratic culture. Yet the party’s role in collaboration paints a haunting portrait of ideological extremism. This dark chapter is not just a story of failure; it is a cautionary tale. A reminder of how fragile democracy can be in the face of oppression, and how easily a society can be seduced by the siren call of authoritarian promises.

As we reflect upon this tumultuous history, we are left with profound questions. What are the lessons that echo through time? How do we protect our democratic values in an age where fear and uncertainty lurk at the edges of our societies? The shadows of the past remind us of our responsibility to remain vigilant, understanding that the whispers of history carry with them the weight of our choices. In the end, the true promise lies in the collective will to uphold the values of justice, compassion, and fellowship, ensuring that the pitfalls of the past are not repeated.