In a recent letter to Kaja Kallas, foreign-policy chief of the European Union, Dutch Foreign Minister Caspar Veldkamp accused Israel of violating international humanitarian law, questioned its intentions in Gaza and warned that the E.U.-Israel relationship may be in breach of Article 2 of the E.U.-Israel Association Agreement. That article conditions bilateral cooperation on respect for human rights and democratic values; Veldkamp now claims Israel no longer qualifies.
That would be ironic if it weren’t so dangerous.
Veldkamp’s tone is accusatory, his logic circular and his priorities inverted. Hamas receives a single line in his letter—a vague remark that it should release hostages—while Israel receives paragraph after paragraph of legal condemnation. The terrorists get lip service, and the only democracy in the region gets legal threats. Veldkamp does this not as an outsider to the region, but as someone who once represented the Netherlands in Israel. He should know better.
What’s worse, he does it while acknowledging that the Israeli-American humanitarian-aid mechanism he rejects is one whose details remain “unknown” to him.
This is not the behavior of a statesman. It is the performance of a man responding to political pressure, particularly from the activist NGOs that he and Netherlands Prime Minister Dick Schoof had just met with, including Oxfam Novib and Amnesty International, which had pressed the government to draw a “red line” for Israel. Shortly afterward, Veldkamp summoned the Israeli ambassador for a formal reprimand over a strike by the Israel Defense Forces in Rafah, one that is already under investigation.
Then came his letter to the European Union. The pattern was clear: Isolate Israel diplomatically, downplay Hamas, and do it all wrapped up in legal jargon.
Even more audaciously, Veldkamp criticized Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu for prioritizing military pressure over hostage negotiations, as if a European minister has the moral standing or strategic knowledge to dictate how a nation under attack should act. It’s a presumptuous move from a country that has done nothing to bring home the 58 hostages still being held in Gaza, 35 of whom are believed to be dead.
While Veldkamp claims to speak in the name of humanitarian principles, his actions reveal something else: a fixation on Israeli guilt and an indifference to Israeli suffering. In his two-page letter to Kallas, the hostages merit a single sentence. No outrage. No plan. No pressure. Just a gesture so he can move on to the real target: Israel’s right to defend itself.
His letter is not unique in Europe. But it is especially galling coming from the Netherlands—a country that prides itself on legalism, neutrality and moral seriousness. Yet here we see none of those virtues. Veldkamp condemns before reading. He denounces plans he admits he does not understand. He flatters NGOs that campaign against Israel, and then rebukes the Israeli ambassador with performative severity.
This is not foreign policy. This is virtue-signaling as statecraft.
I say this not just as a historian and columnist but as someone descended from a Dutch East Indies family—a heritage that sharpens my awareness of how power, moralism and colonial reflexes intertwine. When European officials deliver instructions to non-European states claiming moral authority while disregarding complexity, history echoes. Loudly.
If Veldkamp’s approach succeeds, it won’t bring peace any closer. It will embolden Hamas, demoralize Israeli civilians and reinforce Europe’s reputation as a place where antisemitism has simply found new language.
Israel is not perfect; no country is. But when Europe holds it uniquely suspect, uniquely dangerous and uniquely accountable for conflicts it did not start, we must ask: What kind of justice is that? Certainly, not one that begins with honesty. And honesty begins by naming the threat: The threat to Gaza is Hamas. The threat to peace is not Israeli defense—it is a European surrender.