Actually, the differences between Joop den Uyl on the one hand and Dries van Agt with Hans Wiegel on the other hand were barely noticeable. At least, if you look at what they’ve accomplished. Not much. In the stormy Den Uyl cabinet (1973-1977), the most left-wing government after the war, on closer inspection the world proved unmanageable and imagination did not come to power. The PvdA overplayed its hand, shot itself in the foot: Den Uyl did not stay, but Van Agt came. In the perky Van Agt-Wiegel cabinet (1977-1981), the promised ‘cleaning up of rubble’ was not a matter of boasting. It opened the door for the hard austerity policy under Lubbers.
Big ideals, narrow margins is the title of a recently published parliamentary historiography of ‘the long seventies’, which refers to the period of the Biesheuvel, Den Uyl and Van Agt cabinets between 1971 and 1982. It was a compelling time: student revolts, company occupations, squatters’ riots, mass demonstrations. It was also a spirited time: the world would change, get better and the soft forces would surely prevail, in the end.
No ode to the zeitgeist
Do not expect an ode to this zeitgeist in the book. In almost a thousand pages, fourteen researchers, affiliated with the Center for Parliamentary History in Nijmegen, work thoroughly and thoroughly towards a conclusion in a generally sober style. Paraphrased it could be: the dogs barked, but in politics the caravan moved on unperturbed.
Ed. van Thijn, party leader of the PvdA at the time of Den Uyl’s premiership, had stated firmly: ‘We did not go into government to mess around in the margins.’ Until then, the keynote in post-war politics in the Netherlands had been one of ‘moving along resiliently’, in the words of Piet de Jong, Prime Minister between 1967 and 1971. The Den Uyl cabinet would break with that pragmatism and knowledge, power and income would henceforth accrue to all walks of life. But in Dutch coalition relations, vipers simply crawl under the grass and otherwise there will be bears on the road.
Earlier, others, such as parliamentary researchers Van den Braak and Van den Berg, wrote about ‘the stifled left-wing expectations’. The authors of Big ideals, narrow margins draw a line under this: major social reform projects such as the sharing of entrepreneurial assets by employees ‘didn’t work out’. The middle school as a breakthrough in class education did not get off the ground either. ‘The cabinet was not very successful.’ The same applied to the successors, the Van Agt-Wiegel tandem. After Den Uyl et al.’s alleged ‘digesting’, the two promised a major sweeping action. But public finances became unmanageable and the image of clearing rubble ‘didn’t match reality’.
Social excitement
Big ideals, narrow margins is not a chronicle of events, it is a broad political historiography of policy matters and institutions, with sobriety against romanticized idealism as an instructive constant. That also has a disadvantage. Socially, the 1970s were a period of emancipation. The book pays little attention to its significance. Women became masters of their own mind, Catholics said goodbye to the chaplain and employees and young people learned to contradict. It was a time of enthusiasm and combativeness. The political repercussions of all that social excitement were debates that were fierce and at times vicious.
An example. In February 1977, Van Agt – he was Minister of Justice and leader of the CDA – came into conflict with PvdA MP Aad Kosto, a coalition member. It was about the war criminal Menten, who had fled abroad. Van Agt as responsible minister had been sleeping, was the accusation. Kosto stated that the minister should be sent away because he is unable to lead the department. The PvdA had nevertheless decided to let Van Agt sit. Kosto: ‘We practice the political métier. Mr Van Agt will have to live with his aversion to politics. And we with him.’ Van Agt was deeply offended and his party, the CDA, saw the PvdA’s attitude as a declaration of war.
In the long seventies – you can’t imagine it now – politics drew packed halls all over the country. There was a sense that change was imminent, these were exciting times. Citizen involvement was intense. Hans Wiegel still enthusiastically tells the story that he and Joop den Uyl had a debate in Groningen. The hall was filled to the brim and hundreds of people were still standing outside. On the spot, Den Uyl and Wiegel decided that they would give not one, but two performances that evening, which happened. It was fierce and afterwards they drank a beer together.
At the Binnenhof, the process of cultural emancipation was reflected in fierce debates about abortion legislation, an oil boycott against South Africa, the abolition of the film rating and much more. What is striking is that the authors of Big ideals, narrow margins those political struggles over socio-cultural change quite consistently give the somewhat sour hallmark of ‘polarisation’. Contradictions in parliament, they write, were ‘turned on’ and fought out in public ‘thanks to journalists who acted increasingly assertively’, making coalition building – ‘generally benefited from a willingness to compromise’ – a difficult affair.
Vicious but not poisonous
The authors here elevated the compromise to the norm and benchmark, but in the social debate of those years that was precisely not the aim. Something had to be won, and that inevitably involved struggle. Menno ter Braak wrote to his friend Eddy du Perron as early as the 1930s: ‘Le bon genre I believe only the work written in protest is contrary to the paralysis.’ This was the case in society in the 1970s and probably also in the Binnenhof at that time. Things were often put on edge. Was that polarization or did it create clarity? Debates could be vicious, but never really toxic and undermining. The vote at the end of the debate was the culmination of the fight and it was unthinkable that MPs who had lost the battle spoke of a ‘fake parliament’, let alone that ‘tribunals’ were promised.
And by the way, you wouldn’t suspect it, but when parliament was still a society of high-ranking gentlemen and the right to vote was reserved for men from the dignified middle class, MPs could beat each other’s brains. CK Elout (1870-1947) was an authoritative parliamentary reporter for the General trade magazine. In his book The Lords in The Hague he wrote about cases of brutal polarization, for example when in 1907 Minister De Meester, chairman of the Council of Ministers, had to respond to insinuations from the House about political rumblings by the Minister of War.
Elout then writes: ‘Members, gathered around the ministerial table to listen to the statement, erupted in all sorts of shouting, laughter, wrath, sneers… Sharp looks met stinging words; the tight squeeze made even more screeching; a quarrelsome, angry, very threatening and persistent, general noise rumbled and howled, which in vain sought to hammer down the President, in vain sought to appease by exhorting, urgent silence…’ Anyway, Member of Parliament Duymaer van Twist, because of his stentor, also called ‘the trombone of Steenwijk’, was removed, ‘sweetly led away’, notes Elout. “Then the spectacle died down.”
Carla van Baalen and Anne Bos (eds.): Big ideals, narrow margins – A parliamentary history of the long 1970s. Tree; 952 pages; €49.90.
