During the interview, war reporter Robert Dulmers (56) occasionally crawls over the floor of his Amsterdam loft home, which is filled with art and icons. Then, for example, he frantically searches for his passport, in the pile of clothes from his suitcase, in order to show the stamp with which Ukraine has banned him from entering the country for ten years. “I have to show it to you, otherwise you won’t believe me.”
Moments later, he folds himself homely in a designer chair – “only the garlic press is from Ikea” – as if to show his vulnerability. At other times, screaming again, his face inches from the reporter’s, staring at him insistently for seconds.
“No, I’m not mad at you,” he says several times. But on who? That changes quite a bit during the conversation. In any case, to the “Stalinist show trials” of the Ukrainians, who, in their own words, forced him to leave the country with a gun to his temples. But he is just as angry with former clients and fellow journalists from his more than thirty-year career, who would not have taken it up enough for him. And on Thierry Baudet, with whom he maintained an “affective, so no political” relationship until his marriage, at the end of November 2021. “I loved that boy very much.”
‘Berufsverbot’
How different the flag hung recently when he traveled to war at the end of February. Finally something seemed to work for the once celebrated journalist Robert Dulmers, who has a total of three books to his name. In 2016 he won De Loep, a prize for investigative journalism, for a reconstruction of the fall of Srebrenica. But in the years that followed, his career fell into disrepair after a disagreement with The Green Amsterdammer on his Syria coverage. He was one of the few western journalists to report from the regime’s side after reporting to Ms Assad with chocolates. When he traveled there for a third time, it became The green too much. Dulmers was then out of work. Although he does not have to write for the money, provided with family capital, it still fills him with resentment. „There are so many great stories that I have not been able to tell because of my Berufsverbot†
His joy was great when he found employment again this spring at the Dutch daily newspaper (ND), a “Christianly engaged” newspaper with a circulation of about 22,000 readers. They could use their own correspondent, now that the first war of aggression on the European continent in decades was about to erupt.
But also to this collaboration
came to an end for the time being when he was expelled from the country on Sunday 3 April, now in Odessa, for allegedly spreading state secrets. According to the Ukrainian authorities, he would have violated the new guidelines for citizens and journalists. They prescribe that journalists wait until at least twelve hours after an attack before distributing images of an attack, in order to make the Russians no wiser about their effectiveness. In a tweet, he showed a video showing plumes of smoke over a stricken oil depot. The matter also caused quite a stir internationally, especially in Russian-minded media that saw the arrest as evidence of Ukrainian hypocrisy. The NVJ is contemplating the next steps with Dulmers and his client.
Did you know that the rules about imaging missile impacts existed?
“No, and if I had known, I would have said: boys, I can’t live with these rules, tabee. If I can’t report an attack on the country’s third city, I can’t do my job as a war correspondent.”
But what if safety is now at stake?
“All kinds of international media showed the same images that morning. The plumes of smoke could be seen from the Black Sea and soon moved like a cloud over the city. You can’t stop that, can you?”
But why aren’t those other journalists sent out of the country?
“Because they hide behind the brand they work for. I work with an open mind, like Robert Dulmers.”
Why would Ukraine risk a riot over a tweet in the middle of a war?
“Why not? Half the country is completely paranoia. I even got the impression that they were actually planning to put me in a room to explain the new rules to journalists. Would I feel that way? Well, I didn’t think so! I wouldn’t have done that with a gun to my head.”
On the day of your deportation, photos of you on a boat with Thierry Baudet were doing the rounds in Ukraine. It was suggested that you would be a spy for the Russians. Do you understand that Ukrainians can think that?
„Nobody has a fuck to do with who my friends are. Florrie Rost van Tonningen was a friend of mine, Gisèle d’Ailly was a friend of mine. One was a neo-Nazi, the other has a Yad Vashem award. I’m Robert Dulmers, winner of the Loupe. My friends come from all walks of life, but they have one thing in common: they are special people.”
Yet your method seems rather unorthodox. After your arrest in Odessa, a photo of a business card that you allegedly used to seduce a source was circulated on Ukrainian social media.
“I invited a source for a glass of vodka. His girlfriend was just there when I invited him. Do you really think I was thinking about something? And that vodka was Ukrainian, I still have the receipt to prove it.”
But do you understand that people are afraid of you? You would have walked around with an air rifle for a while. Also on editors.
Indignant: “That was a revolver! An H&K 9mm. And I had to hand it in, because I didn’t come to the shooting club enough.”
In 1999 you were fired from Vrij Nederland for plagiarism. What does that say about your reliability?
“Yes, that was about five lines in a piece of 3,000 words. I had read those elsewhere and they had stuck in my head like wandering sentences. They just wanted to get rid of me and used that.”
Could it be that your eviction has something to do with the way you behave?
“You can blame me for being an eccentric person. Agree. But I am not Willem Oltmans (a flamboyant journalist who was also under fire for exceeding professional standards, ed.). My stories are just good.”