From Revolt to Riches: Culture and History of the Low Countries, 1500–1700

18

Introduction

In the years 1988 and 1989 European nations celebrated several revolutions. First the Glorious Revolution of 1688, whereby Great Britain and the Netherlands were temporarily united in the person of the Dutch Stadtholder Willem III, who with his wife Mary Stuart became king and queen of Great Britain; and second, the French Revolution of 1789, which many historians and political philosophers consider the beginning of a new era.

In 1979 the Netherlands celebrated the Dutch revolution of 1579, to commemorate the Union of Utrecht which had made it possible for seven provinces of the Low Countries to maintain their independence from Spain. In comparison to the above-mentioned revolutions this celebration was a meagre one. The Dutch revolution seemed to be merely of national importance, whereas the Glorious and French Revolutions were of major relevance to the whole of Europe, even to the entire Western world. Yet we can look upon the Dutch Revolt as the first successful attempt of ordinary people to join battle with an almost omnipotent monarch. As a result of the Dutch Revolt the geographical borders of Europe changed profoundly.

In order to be able to assess the various revolutions, we have to determine first of all the meaning of the word ‘revolution’. According to Hannah Arendt¹ the word was originally an astronomical term which gained increasing importance in the natural sciences through Copernicus’ De revolutionibus orbium coelestium. The word clearly indicates a recurring, cyclical movement. If used for the affairs of men on earth, it could only signify that the few known forms of government revolve among the mortals in eternal recurrence and with the same irresistible force which makes the stars follow their preordained paths in the skies. In the seventeenth century we find the word for the first time as a political term; the metaphoric content was even closer to the original meaning of the word, for it was used for a movement of revolving back to some pre-established point and of swinging back into a preordained order. For Arendt the word was used in this sense in 1688 when the Stuarts were expelled and the kingly power was transferred to William and Mary.² The change that took place in the French Revolution was of a different order; the demand for repair of old privileges unexpectedly led to the revolt of the masses.³ Since that moment requirements of ‘liberty’ and ‘equality’ have become the leading principles when we use the term revolution (the demand for ‘fraternity’ was not introduced until later). In addition to this, there must be a new beginning in politics.

I would like to find the answer to the question: does the attitude of the population of the seven provinces warrant the term revolution or should we look upon it as a mere reformation? If the latter is true, we share Huizinga’s view, who considers the revolt against the Spanish government to be ‘a conservative revolution’.⁴

Philosophical entry

In 1960 the historian E. H. Kossmann published a study on the political attitudes of the inhabitants of the Low Countries in the Golden Age.⁵ In his search for the basis on which the deviant structure in the Netherlands was founded Kossmann looked among the philosophers. Kossmann seemed rather disappointed with the outcome of his research. He had not found what he was looking for: the political attitude of the Dutch population during the Golden Age. University philosophers, especially those before 1650, supply us with nice reports about democracy, aristocracy and monarchy, but there seems to be no connection with the Dutch situation at the time. That the above-mentioned terms do not clarify anything is proved by the use of a term like ‘monarchia-aristocratico-democratica’.

Against the general tendency of growing absolutism in Europe, the Low Countries fought with all their energy for preservation of the old privileges. I think that we have all learned that the sixteenth century was famous for its absolutism. It is believed that this tendency enabled the rise of capitalism, and capitalism in its turn is thought to have stimulated absolutism. Yet this model is too simple. It may have worked in France, but the situation gives rise to a more complicated interpretation in other nations: in England there was the continual struggle for power between King and Parliament; in Germany the Electors were enormously powerful. Moreover, the Republic as a form of government in the Low Countries was less unique than has been suggested. Basle and the Cantons in Switzerland operated independently, and Venice was also a Republic. So, the existence of the Republic of the United Provinces was less idiosyncratic than we usually assume. Already with the conclusion of the Twelve Years Truce in 1609 this situation had been internationally accepted. On entering the conference hall, the Dutch delegation were walking right behind the representatives of Venice and in front of those of the Electors. Their position abroad was fixed. However, this position would have been an empty shell if a government had not put things right at home.

In his Les Mots et les Choses Foucault gives an interpretation of the humanist culture of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, which he calls the ‘classical period’.⁶ By 1650 this period comes to an end and there is a reversal.

In the Renaissance the Western world rediscovered antiquity, and with great care the newly found texts were published and the texts that were still known were carefully edited. Gradually it became clear that only a little remained of the known works, especially those by Aristotle. In the Middle Ages, particularly in scholasticism, people had added their ideas to his works. Humanists produced excellent studies, philologically unsurpassed. Yet we cannot bring our vision on these texts into line with the ideas of scholars of about 1600, Foucault claims. For us, modern readers, a text, a specimen of language, will always function as a mirror of reality. The appreciation will differ from linguist to linguist and from philosopher to philosopher, but the principle will hardly be worth discussing. This is not true of the earlier period, however. In those days the text itself was the ultimate thing. Looking for a world behind the text was out of the question. The works of antiquity had the same reality as flowers, people, stones.

Pamphlets

As the university philosophers do not give us the necessary answers, we must direct our attention to different sources. One of Foucault’s other theses is that philosophers and theoreticians do not primarily affect the thinking and actions of ordinary people, but that on the contrary they might be able to give expression, in abstracto, to the mentality of their contemporaries.

Consequently I started my investigation somewhere else. If we want to know how people in our time react to important events in their environment, we turn to newspapers to understand not only what is going on, but also what the attitude of the people is towards these events. In the Golden Age the newspaper did not yet play an important role; the subjects of the day were printed in pamphlets, mostly devoted to one subject only.

The pamphlets (or blue books) have been the subject of several studies. In 1987, a book by Craig E. Harline was published on this subject.⁷ However, he devoted himself to quite a long period: 1565–1648. When such a lengthy period is described, we can see how the interest in and growth of the pamphlets occurred, but we still learn little about their content. My line of approach is quite different. I am philosophically interested in the mental world of the Dutch people, who proved their independence in the early modern European world, when, as a Republic, they became the negotiating partner of Spain and of other European kingdoms.

With the aid of about thirty pamphlets issued in the year of peace, 1648, and held in the Special Collections of the Library of the University of Amsterdam, I would like to retrieve the political attitude of the inhabitants of the Low Countries. At the beginning of the year the treaty of Westphalia concerning the Spanish King and the Dutch Republic was signed. Other treaties, such as those between Sweden and Germany, were passed at the same time; only France had not yet joined in. In the Republic the articles of the treaty were published by different publishers and in several languages. Whether this attracted a great deal of attention is difficult to gauge. The library of Amsterdam University possesses several copies of the treaty between Sweden and Germany,⁸ even more than of the ‘Instrumentum Pacis’ between Spain and the Republic.⁹ This larger amount of copies is likely to be due to the fact that there were so many unsold copies, rather than to a greater interest in it.

Reading the articles in the treaties confirms that the two nations, Spain and the Republic, regarded each other as equals, without any restriction. A problem that still had to be solved, and that led to several difficulties, was the ratification of the document by all the different States of the Republic. A number of pamphlets by the French ambassador and members of Provincial States demonstrate that the unity of the United Provinces was not an open-and-shut case,¹⁰ but in the end the people were reconciled to the decision of the States-General.

It was not my intention to discover the exact historical course of events from the pamphlets. For this, other instruments have given us more information; there is no need for me to repeat the work done by historians. My aim is to unearth some of the attitudes of the inhabitants of the Republic towards their government and towards the way of governing.

Two aspects of society

Before we can search for these attitudes we have to consider two widely different principles on which governing is based. In one respect the apparatus must be suitable to maintain a social order, a whole of costs and benefits. We can speak of the economic structure of society here. On the other hand, or perhaps even as opposed to this, we must direct our attention to the individual human being, the unique person. He or she surely does not always benefit from a cost-benefit analysis but, whether economically useful or useless, has a value of his or her own. This is what I call the political structure. Every form of government is aware of the conflict between these two values. Seen from the economic principle the organisation must run as smoothly as possible. A hierarchical construction of society is the easiest way to fulfil this: one captain on the ship. It is the principle of power in optima forma. From the political principle however, where everyone is equal, the standard we have to apply is the position of the most vulnerable man and woman. We have to ask what level of protection a government offers the economically useless. What opportunities they have is the criterion for the social quality of a nation.

My investigation of the pamphlets was directed towards these two principles. Is attention only focused on a well-functioning state machine or can the simple individual rely on protection and respect?

The economic structure

The economic principle is hierarchical. A nation that wants to survive, as the Dutch Republic did, has to rule with great strength, or see to it that authority is naturally accepted. As the Provinces lacked a strict organisation they had to rely on a mentality of self-evident obedience on one side, authority on the other. This attitude is most clearly expressed in religious pamphlets. It was possible to oblige people (gemeent) to obedience by referring to the authority of God himself. Poppius for example is convinced of the value of a gradual authority to such an extent that he even placed Jesus beneath God the Father. The highness of God is ‘uyt ende van hem selven’ (out of and from himself), whereas Christ received this highness from God. That is why obedience is the first commandment for Christians and for citizens. This theme recurs in his work in various modes.¹¹

It is not only a theologian like Poppius who is convinced of the value of a hierarchical order, with God at the top. The lawyer and philosopher Hugo de Groot¹² also demands obedience, but seen from the secular point of view:

Perhaps De Groot takes the example of the Sultan because it was known that in the Ottoman Empire there was some kind of freedom of religion. Discipline is a fair principle, however unpleasant it may seem, and the authorities have the right to exercise it:

and

As to the Republic, the first question to answer will be: who was seen as the figure at the top of the hierarchy: the Prince of Orange, or the States-General, or the Provincial States? When I read the blue books I came to the same conclusion as when I read history books: there is no common opinion, neither in the different pamphlets nor even within one and the same pamphlet. The French ambassador Servient could therefore slander the Dutch ‘plenipotentiarissen’ (representatives) in Munster, delegates of the States-General, but at the same time he could blame them for the execution of Oldenbarneveldt. This made the Prince for him the right person to enact the peace.¹³ He had of course been influenced by the French situation:

Servient’s idea did not work. Apparently his vision of the final power of the Prince was not accepted in general. More often the Prince was seen as ‘Schildt ende Deeghen van desen Staet’ (shield and sword of this nation) – only a military leader against foreign aggression.¹⁴

That the Peace of Munster was concluded between ‘all people, citizens, kingdoms and nations under the obedience of the King of Spain’, on the one hand, and ‘under the obedience of the States-General of the United Netherlands’, on the other, was more than an empty slogan.¹⁵ It is not just to the advantage of the Republic, ‘dat der Vorsten twist niet meer sal doen ontgelden d’Onnoosele Landsaet, die dick dan lijden moet’¹⁶ (that the quarrel of princes no longer shall be paid for by the innocent inhabitant, who must often suffer then).

In one and the same poem, reflecting the whole history of the resistance, it is said of the Prince of Orange: ‘Al hadd’t een keyser oft koninck geweest Soo sterck quam hij te Velde’ (as if he was an emperor or a king so strong he came to the battlefield), which describes the situation in 1569, but there is also the observation ‘maer de Borghers kreghen d’overhant‘ (but the citizens gained the upper hand). Later on the course is clear:

At home the structural conflict remained. When a quarrel between Groningen and the Ommelanden had to be resolved, there came a convention of the council of the States-General to settle the issue. However, ‘de ongedecideerde poincten’ (the undecided points) will be brought ‘ter discussie van sijn Hoogheyt’ (to the attention of His Highness). In the ‘Inhuldinge’ (inauguration) of the University of Harderwijk Belcampius simply defines the ‘Overicheyt’ (authorities) as those who settled the peace, and rulers as ‘those who are at the helm’.¹⁸

The political structure

Beside the information of how the pamphlets suggested that the attitude of the citizens should be towards their government, we may also ask: what about the opposite: how far was the welfare of the individual important within the social structure? We cannot find much. In fact, the only plain evidence of the value of the individual is found in the speech of Belcampius¹⁹ who wishes the university to be a palace of wisdom, where

Here we notice the absence of social discrimination. It is striking, too, that Belcampius has changed the metaphor. Hierarchically the rulers are constantly seen as fathers, but now the province is compared with a mother

However, there is yet one other field of individual possibilities: the freedom to form and express an opinion. The Calvinist doctrine of the equal value of every man’s soul and the right of personal investigation manifests a beginning of democratic thinking in a modern sense. Therefore Kossmann can speak of Calvinistic constitutionalism in practice, not in theory.

Horrified, a pamphlet writer observes about another nation:

This freedom of opinion, founded in respect for the individual, results in the mitigation of the assessment of power and violence. Hence Alting²⁰ can advocate the annihilation of violence with the words ‘de gelijckheyt waer de beste moeder van ennicheyt’ (equality should be the best mother of unity). Here again we find the metaphor of the mother. The effect of this principle probably made the maintenance of the Republic possible, for ‘justice and authority’ (‘justitie en publique autoriteit’) are both needed to ‘voor het vastbinden van dien band die om de seven Vereenichde Pijlen gaet’ (bind the string around the seven united arrows).

Conclusion

We may conclude that the hierarchical principle is far more evident in the pamphlets than the political principle. Yet it would be rash to take this conclusion as final. Although the common man and woman had to accept authority, he or she were not the only ones on whom demands were made. In records of foreign revolts (I read about one in Paris,²¹ one in Moscow²² and one in Scotland²³) there is hardly any interest in the question of whether people are allowed to revolt against the ruler or rulers, but there is far more interest in a critical attitude to the ruler who does not grant his citizens freedom of opinion or who exploits them, for

Is this enough to call the Dutch Revolt a revolution? I am afraid it is not. We must have great respect for the historian Johan Huizinga who in 1932 described a ‘conservative revolution’, by which he meant that the Union of Utrecht in 1579 did not aim at creating political liberty and independence, but that the foundations on which the union was based went back to the medieval idea of liberty, which lacked the potential on which a new nation could be built.²⁵ The investigation by a modern, political thinker, Hannah Arendt, affirms his observation; the pamphlets lead to the same conclusion.