The Hidden Force (De Stille Kracht) by Louis Couperus; translated by Paul Vincent

Dutch novelist and poet, Louis Couperus (1863-1923)

Colonialism in the 17th century depended upon the European Doctrine of Empire which was for some time heading in the direction of normalising (i.e., sanctioned by God) the formal extinctions of native people and governance and enslavement of those that remained.

Nowhere was this doctrine more monstrously carried out than in the Banda Islands in 1621 where forty four Bandanese elders were beheaded and quartered, by Japanese swordsman especially imported for the task, and their bodies were displayed on stakes. At a meeting seven days after the massacre Jan Coen, the Dutch commander, announced “all towns and fortified places of Banda had, by God’s grace been taken, erased, burned down and about 1200 people caught.”  Coen’s sole plan: the destruction of the Bandanese world was achieved in the space of 10 weeks. 

All this was done in the name of the Christian god because of a nut.

This massacre, and many others, as well as land appropriation of thousands of islands, subjugation and enslavement of the Indigenous people for the sole purpose of controlling the extraordinary valuable spice trade – profits of 3000% were common – were carried out by a private company: Verenigde Oostindische Compagnie (VOC) – the Dutch East India Company. Governing over ten thousand islands and over 50 million people for over a century and a half destroyed this private company but it was too big to fail; it was nationalised into the Dutch Government in 1800.

One hundred years later Louis Couperus’s most famous novel, The Hidden Force, was published. It depicts the height of white supremacy (with three centuries of experience) with a subjugated population who bowed and scurried on their haunches keeping their brown heads below the level of white ones. Couperus’s band of Dutch and Eurasian characters assumed these times would never change (in less than 50 years the Dutch would be gone) but the Dutch were proud of their system of colonialism and thanked God for giving them the right to set an example of what civilised people believed and how they lived.

The protagonist is a District Commissioner in East Java, Otto Van Oudijck (van ow dyk) who, like the Government, believes he is a good colonial, says he loves his subjects, and is proud of what he has achieved in his career and sees a clear path to the Governor General’s thrown. Van Oudijk, his second wife, their children and friends are vividly created; their luxurious life, long office hours for the men, social manipulation, indolence, petty jealousies and sexual intrigue for the women are intriguingly explored. But everyone is on edge. There appears to be a hidden force. Mysterious stones crash through open windows and land at the feet of Mrs van Owdijk as she’s again about to enjoy her step-son, Theo; anonymous letters litter Van Oudijk’s desk accusing his wife of incest and inappropriate relations with a beautiful local boy – he doesn’t believe a word of them, though they unsettle him; white ants and cockroaches destroy a piano; mould renders a new silk dress unwearable; the local royals smile and kow-tow but their eyes say something very different; unholy noises and human cries litter the darkness; animals scurry up the walls and cry out mournfully; and then there’s the climate, the endless heat in the dry and the relentless rain in the wet; the white faces begin to be unsettled by the brown ones whose smiles are no longer trusted, and then one night with rhythmic banging coming from above the ceiling the Commissioner’s bed is covered in filth . Escalating unease encroaches on the Dutch community who dream of ‘home’ and wonder if they will ever see it again.

Louis Couperus, a towering figure in Dutch literature, has written an enthralling and personified denunciation of colonialism. His message is that all oppressed peoples will ultimately destroy the right of their confident and self-righteous oppressors to control them. It might take three and a half centuries, but in the end the subjugated will triumph. Fiction can take you to extraordinary places, to almost unbelievable times and show you the highs and incredible lows of the human condition; it can also show you truth. This is historical fiction at its best.

This translation, by Paul Vincent, can be purchased in various editions here.

The Dutch edition can be purchased in various editions, including a Kindle edition for free, here.