Speech at the commemoration ceremony in Oranjepark on 4 May 2025

Today, 4 May, we commemorate all civilians and service personnel who have been killed or murdered in the Netherlands or anywhere else in the world in wars and peacekeeping operations since the outbreak of the Second World War.

This year, 80 years after the end of the Second World War, we are doing so in the presence of our friends from Burlington, Canada – a warm welcome to our friends from Burlington.

Today we commemorate. We reflect on the lives that were lost. On the suffering that was caused. And which often continues to affect generations to come. Right up to the present day.

Tomorrow we’ll be celebrating. We’ll be celebrating the fact that, 80 years ago, we regained our freedom. That we were once again able to start building an open, just and democratic society.

Remembering and celebrating. We need both. We must remember, so that we can face up to and come to terms with our pain and loss. We must celebrate, so that we can feel and hold on to hope once more, and connect with other people. And once we have remembered and celebrated, we can move forward again, full of hope and confidence.

Today we remember all those who have lost their lives in wars. Wars that often make you wonder, as a human being: why on earth do we do this?

Why can’t we, as humanity, manage to live in peace with one another? Why do people keep emerging who want to dominate others or cause them harm? On both a large and a small scale. But also: what is it that makes people willing to rally behind rulers who have nothing else in mind but their own power, at the expense of everyone else? The question is timeless, and the answer is complex.

In our country, we have been living in peace and freedom for eighty years. Most of us have never known anything else. We take it for granted. But it is precisely that attitude – which sometimes borders on indifference – that makes us vulnerable. For our freedom is not, in fact, something to be taken for granted.

And whilst our democracy is certainly robust, it is not unbreakable. The weakness of democracy is that it can be dismantled through democratic means. Brick by brick, almost imperceptibly.

True democracy is founded on a majority that is also committed to protecting the minority. So that freedom is not reserved solely for those in power.

Where the majority increasingly relies on the power of numbers, that fundamental democratic principle is put at risk. And with it, the balance on which our constitutional state is founded.

The words ‘freedom’, ‘democracy’ and ‘the rule of law’ are not just words that you can use without any obligation. And ignore when it doesn’t suit you.

They are principles. Promises. Traditions. Dreams. Efforts. Perhaps even obligations. It’s about finding a balance. And whilst you’re searching for that balance, holding someone else’s hands.

It’s also about give and take. About taking things in your stride and accepting them. About putting up with things and persevering. Sometimes it’s about setting boundaries, and at other times it’s about giving people space.

Democracy. Freedom. And the rule of law. You can’t order them via an app, and they won’t be delivered to our door within 24 hours. They are complex, fragile and require a great deal of care. And they are the most precious and valuable things we have.

Worth putting in the effort for. Worth sticking our necks out for. Worth taking a stand for. Even when things get uncomfortable.

Today we are commemorating. At eight o’clock, we will all observe two minutes’ silence together. Tomorrow we will be celebrating. Here too, on the Marktplein. We will listen to music and celebrate with our families, neighbours, friends and anyone else who would like to join in.

So that we can then move forward together once more, looking to the future with hope and confidence.