17th and 18th century

A group of 17th-century Dutch Protestant chroniclers such as Hooft, Bor, Meteren, Grotius, Aitzema and Baudartius could build on first-hand reports. As liberal historian Fruin and Catholic historian Nuyens would agree in the mid-19th century, 'before 1798, it was impossible for Catholics in the Northern Netherlands to describe the history of the revolution of the sixteenth century', because the Dutch Republic was dominated by the Dutch Reformed Church (although not formally a 'state church', it was publicly privileged), whose Calvinist preachers were able to influence the secular authorities (the States) to punish any Catholic inhabitant for mounting public criticism of the Protestant consensus on history.^[2] Nuyens (1869) summarised the situation as follows:

Because of all this, only one part of the Dutch people was left to do the talking, as soon as there was talk of 'the revolt against the Spanish tyranny'; the other, however, might have its traditions, its views, its opinions, yet it could not express them. Bor, van Meteren, Reyd, Hooft, all remained very one-sided in their views. Their successors, the men who wrote about the Dutch Revolt in the eighteenth century, drew on them and worked out their material further. There was no longer the slightest doubt in their minds whether the revolt was lawful: Philip was a hideous tyrant; Orange to one side a man of God, to the other (the staatse) in all cases a great benefactor of his country; the Reformed fought for the true freedom of the children of God, for the pure Gospel light; they also fought for civil liberties against a most appalling despotism. The party papers of Jacob van Wesembeke [nl], the Apology, the Defences of the States against Don Juan, etc., etc., were regarded as infallible truths: the "Romish folks," as one expressed themselves, they might well live in peace and tranquility, provided they behaved only quietly and did not claim the least of rights at all.^[3]

Aside from them, there were a few Catholic historians who covered the Eighty Years' War, but either wrote in Latin, such as Floris Van der Haer and Michael ab Isselt, or were foreigners, such as Famiano Strada and Guido Bentivoglio, and as such were either inaccessible for Dutch Catholics, or could not speak on their behalf.^{[note 1]}

19th century

20th century

Length and the phrase eighty years' war

In traditional historiography, the war has long been called the Eighty Years' War (Dutch: Tachtigjarige Oorlog; Spanish: guerra de los Ochenta Años; guerra de Flandes; French: guerre de Quatre-Vingts Ans; German: Achtzigjähriger Krieg; Italian: guerra degli ottant'anni), and dated from the Battle of Heiligerlee (23 May 1568) to the Peace of Münster (15 May 1648), thereby amounting to roughly eighty years.^[1] In the 20th century, historians came to consider this dating to be "completely arbitrary", with the Winkler Prins (2002) stating: 'One could just as easily claim that this 'war' already began somewhere between 1555 and 1568 (the 'Prelude' in the naming of R.J. Fruin), or in 1572 (first meeting of rebel cities), in 1576 (Pacification of Ghent), 1579 (Union of Utrecht), or in 1581 (Act of Abjuration).'^[1] Of course, nobody knew ahead of time when the war would end, and thus how long it would last, as Dutch comedian Theo Maassen humorously pointed out in 2007: 'I don't think that during the Eighty Years' War, someone said after forty years: "Finally, we are half way!"'^[43] Nevertheless, during the war, people seem to have had roughly similar ideas about when the war started, and how long it had been ongoing so far. On 20 September 1629, Carlos Coloma wrote in a letter to the Count-Duke of Olivares: 'The heavy blows we had to endure in just this one, past year, have had a greater impression on the population here than all the misfortunes of 63 years of war put together', meaning that he counted from 1566.^[44] In 1641, in the first volume of the Nederlandsche Historien, Hooft wrote: een oorlogh (...), dat nu in 't drientzeventighste jaar gevoert wort ("a war (...), that is now conducted in its seventy-third year"), meaning that he counted from 1568.^{[11]: 38 [44]} Groenveld (2020) concluded that this discrepancy indictated that contemporaries did not exactly agree on when hostilities broke out, in part because at no point 'war' had been formally declared: 'The term "Eighty Years'" didn't possess mathematical precision, but was an approximate designation. And "War" had a broader meaning than just "large-scale and officially declared armed conflict".'^[44] For legal purposes, Article 56 of the Peace of Münster (signed 30 January 1648, ratified 15 May 1648) defined 1567 as the year in which the war started:

The Dutch States General, for dramatic effect, decided to promulgate the ratification of the Peace of Münster (which was actually ratified by them on 15 May 1648) on the 80th anniversary of the execution of the Counts of Egmont and Horne (5 June 1568), namely, 5 June 1648.^[47] Within decades, the uncapitalised phrase "eighty years' war" became established in the literature of various European languages, such as:

• Spanish: Francisco Dávila Orejón y Gastón [es], Politica y mecánica militar para sargento mayor de tercio (1669): "(experimentado en mas de ochenta anos, que se continuô la guerra en Flandes)" ("(experienced in more than eighty years, that the war in Flanders continued)")^[48]
• Dutch: Pieter Valckenier [nl; de], 't Verwerd Europa (1675): "Waar uyt ontstont den tachentig jaarigen en onversoenlyken Oorlog tusschen de Spanjaarden en de Vereenigde Nederlanders?" ("Where did the eighty years' and irreconcilable war between the Spaniards and the United Netherlandish [people] originate from?")^[49]
  • German translation: Pieter Valckenier, Das verwirrte Europa (1677): "Woraus ist doch der achtzig jährige / und unversühnliche Krieg / zwischen Spanien und dem Vereinigten Niedrlande / entstanden?" ("But where did the eighty years' / and irreconcilable war / between Spain and the United Netherlands / originate from?")^[50]
• French: La Vie du Michel de Ruyter (1677): "Mess. les Etats ont û une guerre de quatrevingt ans, mais pendant tout ce temps-là le Roy d'Espagne n'a jamais entrepris une telle injustice..." ("The Lords Estates had had a war of eighty years, but during all this time the King of Spain has never undertaken such an injustice....")^[51]
• Italian: Pietro Gazzotti, Historia delle guerre d'Europa arriuate dall'anno 1643 fino al 1680. (1681): "...la fermezza, con cui gli Olandesi havevano sostenuto più di ottant'anni la guerra con la Spagna, era per dare riputatione alle loro armi, e tirare ne'loro interessi molti Principi, ch'erano gelosi della Francia." ("... the firmness with which the Hollanders had sustained for more than eighty years the war with Spain, was to give reputation to their arms, and to draw in their interests many Princes, who were jealous of France.")^[52]
• Dutch: t'Verloste Nederland van het Spaense, en Franse jok (1690): "Door dese Doorluchtige Princen is eyndelijck dien swaren tachtigjarigen oorlog, die de Nederlanden met Spanje gehad hebben, en die de Spaense seven en twintig duysent, seven hondert en veertig tonnen gouts gekost heeft soo geluckelijck ten eynde gebracht." ("Because of these Illustrious Princes, that severe eighty years' war, which the Netherlands have had with Spain, and which has cost the Spanish 27,740 tonnes of gold, was finally so fortunately brought to an end.")^[53]

Although the name "Eighty Years' War" and the starting year of 1568 would thus come to dominate historiography, they would be challenged by the alternative names "Dutch Revolt" or simply "the Revolt", and earlier dates such as 1566 or 1567, in the 20th century.^[1][54]

"Eighty Years' War" versus "Dutch Revolt"

In part because of the arbitrary dating of the war's beginning, and thus the total length of eighty years upon which the war's name is based, some historians have endeavoured to replace the term Eighty Years' War with Dutch Revolt (Dutch: Nederlandse Opstand) or simply the Revolt (Dutch: de Opstand),^[1] while other historians have sought to apply Dutch Revolt only to an initial part of the war, or to the prelude of the war. Some examples include:

• Anton van der Lem (1995): The Revolt in the Netherlands (1568–1609)^[55]
• Arie van Deursen (2004): "The Revolt of 1572–1584."^[56]
• Mulder et al. (2008): "The Dutch Revolt, 1559–1609"^[57]
• Anton van der Lem (2014): The Revolt in de Netherlands 1568–1648: The Eighty Years' War in Words and Images.^[55]

In a 2019 official history produced under the direction of the Netherlands Institute of Military History, the authors contend that "Dutch Revolt" is a misnomer if applied to the entire span of the war, as only the first phase of the Eighty Years' War unfolded as an internecine conflict across the breadth of the Netherlands, driven by class and sectarian dynamics, between loyalists and dissident subjects in "revolt" against their sovereign ruler. What followed, they argue, was a regular war between a de facto independent, territorially-bounded nation-state — the Dutch provinces united by the Union of Utrecht — and the territorially contiguous possession of a multinational empire — Spain as dynastic ruler of the remaining Habsburg Netherlands — across a defined and relatively static frontier.^[58]

Focus on the first part

Historians have manifested a tendency to focus on the first part of the war, regarding the death of Orange in 1584, the year 1588 (various reasons), or the Truce of 1609 to be turning points, after which they considered it no longer important or interesting to narrate subsequent events of the war to the same level of detail, either because these events are said to have had far less military significance for the result of the war in 1648,^[59][1][60] or far less significance for the further political, institutional, religious, cultural, or socio-economic history of the northern Netherlands or the Dutch people up to the present.^[61][60]

• Significance to military outcome: Robert Fruin (1857) noted that history writers had a tendency to write only about the early part of the conflict until the assassination of William of Orange in 1584 (and lay people likewise only remembered this early part well), while this was in no way a turning point of the war; in Fruin's view, it was not until the Ten Years (1588–1598) that the 'victory'/independence of the northern Netherlands as the Dutch Republic was secured.^{[note 3]} Winkler Prins (2002) stated: "One could argue that the struggle between the Republic and Spain was actually already decided by or during the Twelve Years' Truce (1609–1621), although the borders weren't yet clear."^[1]
• Significance to further (non-military) Dutch history: In the introduction to the second volume of his four-volume History of the Dutch People, in which he had to leave out lots of things to control 'the work's size',^[61] Petrus Johannes Blok (1896) admitted that he struggled with keeping his narration of the war's first half brief: 'The size of the first part, which deals with the first half of the Eighty Years' War, has nevertheless already become larger than intended. While writing, the author came to the point of view that it was impossible to abridge the story of events, the outline of circumstances in this time so rich in changes, without damaging the proper understanding of the entire development of our people's existence.'^{[note 4]} To Van der Lem (1995), the entire post-1588 period was less interesting to recount because the ideological struggle had essentially been decided: 'As soon as [the 1588 States-General's decision to wage offensive war] had been taken, the continuation of the 'Revolt' or 'Eighty Years' War' became a regulated war. The ideological element did retain a role, but disappeared to the background. (...) The course of the struggle is henceforth a military one, in which not all conquests and losses need be remembered.'^[60] Van der Lem (1995) ended his narrative in 1609,^[60] and not until 2014 did he publish a new edition of his 1995 book in which the narrative was extended to 1648.^{[note 5]}

The chaotic and dramatic early decades of the Eighty Years' War, which were filled with civil revolts and large-scale urban massacres, largely ended for the provinces north of the Great Rivers after they proclaimed the Republic in 1588, expelled the Spanish forces and established peace, safety and prosperity for their population.^[62] Conventional historiography has a tendency to gloss over the rest of the war, and focus on the economic flourishing of especially the province of Holland in the subsequent so-called Dutch Golden Age.^[62] However, modern historians have taken issue with this shift in focus, as the countryside in especially Brabant, Flanders and the lands constituting the modern two provinces of Belgian and Dutch Limburg continued to be devastated by decades of uninterrupted warfare, with armies forcing farmers to hand over their food, or destroying their crops to deny food to the enemy.^[62] Both parties levied taxes on farmers in the still-contested environs of 's-Hertogenbosch after the Dutch conquered it in 1629.^[62] Towns such as Helmond, Eindhoven and Oisterwijk were repeatedly subjected to pillaging, arson, and sexual violence committed by both rebel and royal forces.^[62] These atrocities and tragedies in the borderlands, scholars say, should not be ignored, let alone should it be implied that the 'Golden Age' was experienced by everyone in (what would become) the Dutch Republic.^[62]

Periodisation

Until the mid-20th century, 1568 was generally assumed as the year in which the war started. A new point of view regarding the early years of the conflict emerged in the 1960s, with Belgian historian Herman Van der Wee (1969) stating:^[54]

'...historical research of the last few years has brought to light that the traditional vision, in which the year 1568 is presupposed as the starting date of the Revolt [Presser 1948], should be amended somewhat [Enno van Gelder 1930, Kuttner 1964, Brulez 1954]. The Revolt of the Westkwartier in the autumn of 1566, an uprising that concretised in a gathering of troops in and around Tournai and in the advance of a Geuzen army towards Valenciennes which was besieged by royal troops, was already the result of an organised programme of action, [devised] for a political purpose by ministers and members of the lesser nobles [Brulez 1954, p. 85]. The Beeldenstorm in the summer of 1566 also had a strongly organisational character, which was not without political motives [Dierickx 1966]. Therefore, I am in favour of viewing the initial phase of the Revolt as a troubled period of unrest, which is situated between 1566 and 1568.'

Religious contents of the Treaty

Some historians have claimed that all signatories of the treaty needed to 'purge their lands of heresy'; in other words, all their subjects had to be forcefully reverted to Catholicism. Visconti (2003), for example, claimed that when pressured by Spain to implement this obligation, Emmanuel Philibert, Duke of Savoy proclaimed the Edict of Nice (15 February 1560), prohibiting Protestantism on pains of a large fine, enslavement or banishment, which soon led to an armed revolt by the Protestant Waldensians in his domain that would last until July 1561.^[90] However, modern historians disagree about the primary motives of Philip II of Spain and especially Henry II of France to conclude this peace treaty.^[91] Because Henry II had told the Parlement of Paris that the fight against heresy required all his strength and thus he needed to establish peace with Spain, Lucien Romier (1910) argued that, besides the great financial troubles, 'that the religious motive of Henry had great, if not decisive, weight'.^[92] According to Rainer Babel (2021), this was 'a judgement which later research, with some nuances in detail, has not refuted', stating however that Bertrand Haan (2010) had 'a deviating interpretation' challenging this consensus.^[92] Haan (2010) argued that finances were more important than domestic religious dissension; the fact that the latter were prominent in the 1560s in both France and Spain may have led historians astray in emphasising the role of religion in the 1559 treaty.^[91] Megan Williams (2011) summarised: 'Indeed, Haan contends, it was not the treaty itself but its subsequent justifications which stoked French religious strife. The treaty's priority, he argues, was not a Catholic alliance to extirpate heresy but the affirmation of its signatories' honor and amity, consecrated by a set of dynastic marriages.'^[93] According to Haan, there is no evidence of a Catholic alliance between France and Spain to eradicate Protestantism, even though some contemporaries have pointed to the treaty's second article to argue such an agreement existed: 'The second article expresses the wish to convene an oecumenical council. People, the contemporaries first, have concluded that the agreement sealed the establishment of a united front of Philip II and Henry II against Protestantism in their states as in Europe. The analysis of the progress of the talks shows that this was not the case.'^[89]

Pope Pius V raised the Florentine duke Cosimo de' Medici to Grand Duke of Tuscany in 1569, which was confirmed by the emperor, although Philip II of Spain disapproved.^[94] Although the Papacy's diplomatic role increased during the Wars of Religion, popes and papal legates played no role in negotiating the most significant truces and treaties between the Habsburg and Valois monarchs during these wars.^[95]

Testimony in Orange's Apology

Despite this, Dutch historiographers have long assumed that such an alliance between the two Catholic monarchs was concluded during the peace talks at Le Cateau, albeit in secret, mostly because William of Orange made claims to that extent in his December 1580 Apology (written in his own defence after Philip II of Spain imposed the royal ban on him in March 1580, publicly calling for the assassination of Orange in return for a large reward).^[89][96] In the Apology, Orange alleged that, when he, Alba and Egmont were held as hostages in France in June 1559 to ensure the implementation of the Treaty of Cateau-Cambrésis, the following event occurred when he had a meeting with Henry II of France while the latter was on a hunt:

...while being in France, I've heard from the own mouth of King Henry, that the Duke of Alba employed means to exterminate all the suspects of Religion in France, in this Country, and throughout all of Christendom.^{[note 8]} When the king had outlined the main goal of the Spanish Council and the intention of the Spanish king and the duke of Alba, I pretended that I was already informed on the matter. This caused him to continue with an elaborate narration, from which I was able to sufficiently deduce the intention of the inquisitors. I would happily like to confess that at that moment, I felt a great compassion for so many people of honour, who had been delivered to death; furthermore, I felt sympathy with this country, with which I am so connected and where one thought to introduce a certain kind of inquisition, which would be more cruel than the Spanish. This Spanish inquisition was a trap to entangle both the Noblemen of the land and the people. Those, who could not be subjected by the Spaniards and their adherents by other means, would surely have easily fallen into their hands through this inquisition, from which escape is impossible. After all, you only had to look at a holy statue with contempt in order to be burnt at the stake. Moreover, I confess that at that moment, I resolved in all seriousness, that I would do my utmost to help expell this Spanish rabble, which I have not regretted up to this very moment.^[98]: 70

Some historiographers doubt the historicity of this meeting. Van der Lem (1995) stated: "In later years, Orange spread a fable about this stay [in France]. (...) In reality, Orange's thoughts were hardly on matters of religion then: his wife Anna van Buren had died the year before and he was busy looking for a suitable, wealthy second wife, Catholic or Protestant, it didn't matter. The conversation with King Henry II has been added to the Prince's Apology, a propaganda piece in which he subsequently justified his actions in 1580.^[96] Klink (1997) stated that the arguments for denial are not strong.^[99] Bertrand Haan (2010), however, argued that 'the authenticity of this allegation cannot be determined'; although Alba would later act in a way that is compatible with such a plan to exterminate all Protestants, Henry II seemed not to act on it at all. It may well be that this testimony had merely been a way for Orange 'to blacken Alba's reputation, and more generally to denounce the irreconcilable and tyrannical tendencies of the Spanish government as a whole.'^[89] On the other hand, René van Stipriaan (2021) claimed: 'In recent times, the doubts about the historicity of this story have significantly decreased.'^[100] In any case, Orange would have been present at Henry's deathbed in early July 1559.^{[note 9]}

Other claims of Spanish Inquisition in the Netherlands

In connection with the simultaneous papal bull Super Universas [nl; fr] (12 May 1559), Van der Lem (1995) remarked: "The secrecy that came about with the ecclesiastical reorganisation fed rumours that the king was also going to introduce the so-called Spanish Inquisition in the Netherlands. About few institutions in history such great fables and absurdities have been told as the Spanish Inquisition. (...) All of this is part of the so-called Black Legend, the whole of imaginary stories that were doing and still do the rounds about Spanish history. (Swart 1975) In reality, the Spanish Inquisition was never introduced in the Netherlands, nor did Philip II intend to introduce it in the Netherlands."^[96] There was only a short-lived attempt at establishing a papal (Roman) inquisition in the Netherlands in 1522, which never amounted to much.^[102]

Margaret of Parma

Margaret of Parma, governor-general of the Habsburg Netherlands (1559–1567), has received a mixed scholarly reception. Winkler Prins (2002) regarded her as 'not very independent in general', as the powerful men in her political milieu repeatedly compelled her to act differently than she had intended.^[103] 'She acquiesced to the advice of cardinal Antoine Perrenot de Granvelle, until she suspected him of not supporting her dynastic interests (the marriage of her son Alexander Farnese to an Austrian princess and the return of Piacenza) to the king.'^[103] After Granvelle's departure in 1564, Winkler Prins stated that the noblemen's interference with her government 'increased the chaos in the land', and that Margaret was 'filled with fear, and forced to compromise'.^[103] It was thanks to the outrage caused by the Beeldenstorm that the noblemen finally respected her authority: 'Henceforth powerfully supported by Peter Ernst von Mansfeld, Noircarmes, Arenberg and Megen, Margaret managed to restore order.'^[103] It concluded that Philip's sending of Alba to the Netherlands was 'an unfortunate and unnecessary measure' that led her to resign from office and leave for Italy on 30 December 1567.^[103]

Van der Lem (1995) stated that Margaret's status as an illegitimate daughter of Charles V with Johanna Maria van der Gheynst, and thus the half-sister of Philip II, risked undermining her authority: 'It depended on the good disposition with which one wished to judge her, whether one remembered her illegitimate birth or her descent from Emperor Charles.'^[96] He rejected the view of traditional historiography that, through the Council of State, Viglius, Berlaymont and especially Granvelle could easily control Margaret, but although they frequently advised the governoress, this merely created 'the illusion that a clique of three people was running the show'.^[96] Contrary to what nationalist historians have implied, Van der Lem said, this woman and these three men were not 'Spanish', but born in the Netherlands and Free Burgundy (Granvelle); they were neither necessarily 'pro-Spanish' nor 'anti-national'.^[96] The only person who could really overrule Margaret was king Philip, which he did with the first two Letters from the Segovia Woods (October 1565); this put the governoress at odds with the nobility, who had demanded several moderations of anti-heresy policies that Philip had now all rejected.^[96] According to legend, when the Compromise of Nobles offered Margaret the petition on 5 April 1566, again demanding to moderate the persecution of Protestants, she was nervous and hesitant, leading Berlaymont to say: 'N'ayez pas peur, Madame, ce ne sont que des gueux' ("Do not fear, Madam, they are mere beggars"), the origin of the term geuzen.^[96] Otherwise Van der Lem agreed with Winkler Prins that the Beeldenstorm outrage regained her the nobility's loyalty and thereby the ability to crush the unrest herself, but Philip already sent Alba with a Spanish army before he was informed that Margaret had succeeded.^[96]

Philip II of Spain

Mulder et al. (2008) regarded Philip II of Spain's planned tax reforms as reasonable for a 'modern ruler' in the face of unstable revenues, high expenditures and repeated bankruptcy crises in the second half of the 16th century: 'It was very much in the interest of Philip to be able to introduce regular taxes rather than beden. A modern ruler – in the 16th century, therefore, an absolute monarch – had to have access to sufficient finances.'^[104] Similarly, they regarded criticism of Alba's implementation of Philip's tax reforms as 'unjustified'.^[105]

According to Fruin (1857), the turning point in the war that started the Dutch Republic's greatest Ten Years (1588–1598) was a military one that was to be blamed primarily on Philip's errors. The destruction of the Spanish Armada (May–August 1588) began the 'adversity which Philip would suffer almost without interruptions from now on, which is to be attributed more to his own mistakes than the cooperation of his enemies. (...) The attack on England, waged recklessly, fell apart, and prevented the submission of the Netherlands.'^[106] Kosterman (1999), too, blamed Philip for appointing the inexperienced and incompetent Medina-Sidonia as admiral of the Armada, while sending his very competent general Parma to invade France, 'thus spoiling his chances of still subduing the rebellious Northern Netherlands, a task that Parma had been carrying out with great success before the Armada.'^[107]

Duke of Alba

Fernando Álvarez de Toledo, 3rd Duke of Alba, better known simply as Alba, came to the Netherlands with the Army of Flanders in August 1567 to restore order and shortly afterwards succeeded Margaret of Parma as governor-general (1567–1573). Mulder et al. (2008) remarked: 'Alba has become the bogeyman in our [Dutch] national history. As for his taxation plans [this is] certainly unjustified. The hopelessly outdated beden had to be abolished urgently. [However,] his harsh treatment of rebels rightly earned him his nickname 'iron duke'.'^[105] Kosterman (1999) even regarded the immediate collection of the Tenth Penny as 'necessary to finance the Spanish army', which was threatening mutiny due to lack of pay.^[108] Meanwhile, the States of the various provinces obstructed or delayed even the most reasonable compromises, and sabotaged the eventual mid-1571 full-on Tenth Penny introduction 'in all possible, sometimes very childish ways.'^[109] Nevertheless, Alba proved incompetent to introduce these necessary tax reforms, which he appears to have admitted by requesting king Philip II at the end of every letter to him to send a successor to take over his job as governor-general.^[108] He also vainly tried to force the matter upon the city of Brussels's populace by closing their shops and threatening to execute 17 prominent burghers in early 1572.^[110]

William of Orange

William "the Silent" of Orange is probably the most controversial figure of the Eighty Years' War, with commentators approaching him with a wide variety of views. These perspectives have ranged from considering Orange a man of God,^[111] to the Father of the Fatherland (Pater Patriae) of the Netherlands,^[112] to a great benefactor of his country,^[111] to one of the founders of modern human rights principles such freedom of conscience and freedom of religion,^[112] to an opportunist without principles, down to a war criminal, or even an anti-Christian heretic who was justly assassinated by a pious, God-fearing Catholic.^[112] Historians from all backgrounds have struggled to come up with an evidence-based, balanced evaluation of who Orange was, what he did or tried to accomplish, and what his place in history ought to be.

Frederiks (1999) stated: 'During the 1570s, Orange had continuously attempted to get the rebel provinces in agreement in their resistance against the king. That way they would evidently be strongest, and prevent Philip from pitting them against each other. [But] Orange was faced with an impossible mission, so great were the mutual opposites in the Netherlands. (...) A second goal that Orange had set himself, and on which the rebellion's success largely depended, was to get France involved in the struggle. If this powerful country with its mighty potential would militarily back the rebels, it would be done deal.'^[113] Although Orange managed to get the States-General to accept the French king's brother and heir presumptive Francis, Duke of Anjou as their new sovereign on 23 January 1581, 'yet Orange's plan was only half successful: Holland and Zeeland did not participate, as they refused to even consider subjecting themselves to a lord who was a Catholic.'^[113] Moreover, the other States would also be in constant conflict with Anjou.^[114]

After years of conducting a pro-French policy and trying to secure Anjou's position as the new monarch of the Netherlands and getting French military support, Orange lost a great deal of power and influence due to the French Fury (17 January 1583).^[112] Save from a few allies, Van der Lem (1995) stated that Orange had become 'an isolated political figure' amidst the overwhelmingly critical rebel leadership, and was even deserted by his brother and long-time ally Jan van Nassau, as he kept insisting on reconciling with Anjou and obtaining French intervention.^[112] Van der Lem (1995) regarded the assassination of William of Orange in 1584 as a turning point, arguing that his political and religious ideals died with him.^[112] He did note that Henri Pirenne downplayed the significance of Orange's death in view of Parma's seemingly unstoppable military advance.^{[note 10]} Van der Lem also pointed out that the term father of the fatherland didn't yet have its later nationalistic meaning in the 16th century, and that the Protestant-dominated Dutch Republic covering just the northern Netherlands (as it would achieve independence in 1648) would certainly not have been the 'fatherland' that Orange had envisioned, namely, a 17-province Netherlandish monarchy with a Valois dynasty and equality for Catholics and Protestants.^[112]

Jan van Nassau

Johann VI, Count of Nassau-Dillenburg, also simply known as Jan van Nassau, has long been hailed by nationalist historians as the driving force and 'great hero' behind the Union of Utrecht as he was the first to put his signature under the treaty on 23 January 1579.^[116] For this reason, king William III of the Netherlands, a direct descendant of Jan van Nassau, had a statue of him erected on the Dom Square next to the Dom Tower of Utrecht in 1883, but modern historians have challenged this notion.^[117] According to Kosterman (1999), Jan van Nassau more or less suddenly appeared in 1577, 'leaving behind [his] family, house and possessions due to great financial stress, coming down from Dillenburg to the Netherlands looking for a well-paying job. After some princely manipulation [by his brother William of Orange], he was appointed stadtholder of Guelders on 22 May 1578.'^[118] Nassau's aims differed from his brother Orange: he sought to establish a union of Calvinist provinces in the Netherlands for the benefit of his fellow job-seeking Protestant German noblemen, but his own Catholic-dominated province of Guelders was mostly opposed to such an alliance.^[119] Despite staging a coup d'état to get his way on 7 September 1578 and appointing a lot of confidants on key positions, Nassau was unable to sway the majority of the States of Guelders, and he temporarily returned to Germany; it was then the representatives of Holland and Zeeland who completed the preparations for the Union of Utrecht, which failed to obtain majority consent in Guelders.^[117]

Alexander Farnese, Duke of Parma

Historians, including Dutch ones, are in broad agreement that Alexander Farnese, Duke of Parma was an unmatched diplomatic and military genius. Mulder et al. (2008) called him 'a smart diplomat and a talented general.'^[120] Likewise, Groenveld (2009) referred to Farnese's 'capable military and diplomatic performance'.^[121] Winkler Prins (2002) stated: "Farnese, who was not just an outstanding general, but also a great diplomat, not only accomplished the reconquest, but also the reconciliation of the Southern Netherlands."^[122] Belgian historian Henri Pirenne (1911) went as far as to say that the assassination of Orange in 1584 was a meaningless crime, because he had already been powerless to mount a proper defence against Parma's seemingly unstoppable advances for years.^{[note 10]} Fruin (1857), seconded by Van der Lem (2019), emphasised that the Dutch breakthroughs during the Ten Years (1588–1598) would have been impossible without the bulk of the Spanish army under Parma being tied up in France.^[123] Van der Lem (2019) concurred with Fruin that the Ten Years were militarily 'crucial',^[124] although it had more to do with the absence of Parma than the brilliance of the Republic's war efforts and economics.^[123] Only Winkler Prins (2002) alleged that Maurice of Orange 'mastered the new mathematics-based art of war equal to [Farnese]', although Maurice wasn't very politically gifted.^[125]

Maurice of Orange and Johan van Oldenbarnevelt

The relationship between stadtholder and unofficial captain-general Maurice, Prince of Orange (until 1618 known as Maurice of Nassau) and Land's Advocate of Holland Johan van Oldenbarnevelt, who was executed on 13 May 1619 at the instigation of Maurice, has been the subject of many Dutch historians' disputes. The interest of scholars focuses not just on the characters and actions of the two men, but also on what they were (later) said to represent: the earliest forms of the Orangist militarist stadtholderate that would eventually evolve into the Orange dynasty / Dutch monarchy of 1813 that still exists today, versus the staatse regenten / merchant / proto-capitalist class,^[126] later evolving into the republican Loevestein faction, some of which still later evolved into the Enlightened democratic-republican Patriotten of the 1780s.^[127] While early modern writers usually had a distinct preference of either Maurice or Oldenbarnevelt (for example, Joost van den Vondel vehemently criticised Maurice and admired Oldenbarnevelt in his poems^[128]), placing them at the beginning of both political traditions,^[129] modern historians have argued that these binary representations are oversimplifications of reality. Many have pointed out that Oldenbarnevelt and Maurice cooperated fairly well during the Ten Years,^[129][130] were in fact dependent on each other to accomplish their goals,^[129][126] and balanced each other out.^[131][126] Still, there is a consensus that Maurice committed a coup d'état in August 1618, and the Trial of Oldenbarnevelt, Grotius and Hogerbeets was unfair and politically motivated.^[128][132]

According to Winkler Prins (2002), 'Oldenbarnevelt is generally recognised as a first-rate intellect, a sharp jurist, the constitutional builder of the Republic of United Netherlands and the founder of its position in the world.'^[128] He worked 'with [Orange] to prevent geuzen dictatorship in favour of the regenten families' in 1573–1576.^[128] It credited his contacts with exiled Southerners and economic policy as Rotterdam pensionary (1576–1586) for the flourising of the Port of Rotterdam for decades thereafter, but 'as a tolerant humanist, [Oldenbarnevelt] only partially succeeded in securing the principle of religious peace' during the Union of Utrecht preparations.^[128] Winkler Prins judged his decision to have Maurice appointed as stadtholder of Holland and Zeeland ('but with restrictions establishing the sovereignty of the States'), and thereby 'the 'national' counterpart of the English governor-general [Leicester]', to be a 'masterpiece'.^[128] Simultaneously, however, this created the core of the 'increasing animosity between Oldenbarnevelt and Maurice', as the former (backed by the States of Holland) continuously rejected the idea of granting sovereignty to a 'hereditary chief', while especially Zeeland was in favour of recognising Maurice as count.^[128] On the other hand, Winkler Prins stated that Oldenbarnevelt 'managed, based on no legal document whatsoever, to raise the position of his own office to be the most important officials in the entire Republic'.^[128] It admired his diplomatic skill of attracting allies, forcing the Twelve Years' Truce and withstanding the pressure of the dynastic interests of Orange and Bourbon upon the republican government.^[128] His decision to have the States of Holland adopt the Sharp Resolution of August 1617 to allow cities to hire their own security forces was 'the only important defeat Oldenbarnevelt suffered', and the one which cost him both his office and his life; Maurice used his military force to stage a coup by disbanding the city mercenaries, arresting all political opposition, and appointing his own special court to have Oldenbarnevelt tried and executed.^[128] Although he had few friends in life due to being 'tyrannical', his 'dishonourable end motivated his allies such as the poet Joost van den Vondel to turn him into a martyr.'^[128]

Winkler Prins stated that Maurice 'mastered the new, mathematics-based art of war equal to [Farnese], and after Farnese's death, he was the unmatched greatest military leader of his time.'^[125] On the other hand, Maurice wasn't as political shrewd, being 'overshadowed by Oldenbarnevelt', and only 'managing to escape' the monarchal influence of Henry IV of France 'after long hesitation'.^[125] The fact that Oldenbarnevelt secured the Twelve Years' Truce (undermining Maurice's military position) and opposed one-person sovereignty (obstructing Maurice's dynastic aspirations) is what caused their rift, while the religious conflicts between them 'barely played a role, because the confessional colours of both has always remained vague.'^[125] According to Arie van Deursen's 2000 biography of Maurice, he "failed as the winner of the conflict" the moment Oldenbarnevelt's head rolled: "If there was a court of history, it would unambigiously pronounce a guilty verdict over Maurice".^[133]