The Netherlands is grappling with its Nazi-occupied past, but the return of stolen art and artifacts remains a complex and emotional issue. The recent discovery of a painting by Toon Kelder, looted from the collection of Jewish art dealer Jacques Goudstikker, has brought this issue to the forefront. The current owner, unaware of the painting's history, is now faced with the difficult decision of whether to return it to the rightful heirs.
This story highlights a broader trend in the Netherlands towards confronting the country's history of occupation. Since 2020, an approach of 'humanity and goodwill' has been applied to restitution requests from Dutch national collections, and many auction houses refuse to sell disputed or looted art. However, the process of returning stolen objects is not without its challenges.
One of the main obstacles is the concept of 'het zwijgen' or 'the silence', a loaded omertà that grew around what happened during the Second World War. This silence has contributed to the fact that eight decades after the liberation from the Nazis, Jewish property is still sitting quietly in Dutch family homes, pinned there by loaded silence, shame, and a legal system that struggles to deal with this historical theft.
The war haunted the children of collaborators, according to Anne Marthe van der Bles, a senior researcher at the ARQ National Psychotrauma Centre. 'The war always sat at the dining table,' she said. 'Children knew: we are not allowed to mention this, because Mum or Dad gets angry, sad, frightened. It is not just not talking about it. It is heavier and more loaded than that.'
However, younger Dutch people appear less weighed down and more compelled to right the wrongs of the past. Experts warn that they do not have forever to act, and that thousands of stolen pieces risk being lost to fading family memory and fragmented archives if they are not returned soon.
The return of stolen art and artifacts is not just a matter of justice, but also of emotional connection. As Emile Schrijver, the general director of the Jewish Cultural Quarter in Amsterdam, noted, 'Not everybody owned great art, but not every piece of looted property has to be great art in order to be important to relatives.'
In my opinion, the Netherlands' approach to confronting its Nazi-occupied past is a positive step towards healing and reconciliation. However, the process of returning stolen objects is complex and emotional, and it is important to ensure that the voices of the descendants of the victims are heard and respected. The return of stolen art and artifacts is not just a matter of justice, but also of emotional connection and the preservation of history.
