Cold Open

It’s 10:00 AM on the morning of December 2nd, 1975 aboard a local train in northeast Holland. 

In the first-class compartment, Gerry Vaders scans the headlines of the morning paper with a keen eye. Gerry is the editor of a popular Dutch news daily and his job demands he travel often. He’s journeyed on this very train countless times in the past and today he falls into his usual routines.

Folding the newspaper neatly in half, he places it in his lap before leaning forward to light a cigar. Raising the cigar to his lips, Gerry glances out of the window absentmindedly, watching the familiar landscape fly by as the train gathers speed. But Gerry's familiar routine is broken as the train jerks to a stop.

Gerry cranes his neck, expecting to see a platform station ahead, but there is none.

Gunshots and the loud cries of men shouting in an unfamiliar language echo through the train. As the voices draw closer, Gerry can finally hear what they are saying. “Mena Muria” the slogan of the South Moluccan independence movement.

Panic rises in Gerry’s chest as he realizes that his train has been hijacked.

South Molucca is a group of Irelands part of the Indonesian archipelago. For over a century, Indonesia was part of the vast Dutch colonial empire. But at the end of the second world war, the country rose up against its colonizers. During Indonesia’s struggle for independence, South Moluccans chose to support the Dutch army. And after Indonesia won its freedom, the Moluccans followed the Dutch to the Netherlands on the back of assurances that their islands would one day be turned into a separate, independent nation.

But the Dutch government seems to have forgotten those promises. Nearly three decades later, anger and resentment brews among the thousands of Moluccans still living in exile in the Netherlands. Determined to hold the Dutch responsible for their betrayal, some radical groups resort to violence.

The terrorists who hijack Gerry’s train are determined to bring global attention to the Moluccans’ plight. The hijacking lasts 12 days and three hostages are killed before the Moluccans eventually surrender to the Dutch government. But their cause will continue. And less than two years later, another group of Moluccan terrorists will hold the country hostage again with a deadly dual attack on May 23rd, 1977.

Introduction

From Noiser and Airship, I’m Lindsay Graham and this is History Daily.

History is made every day. On this podcast—every day—we tell the true stories of the people and events that shaped our world.

Today is May 23rd, 1977: A Hostage Crisis Shakes the Netherlands.

Act One

It’s a hot summer morning on May 23rd, 1977 inside a noisy classroom in the small village of Bovensmilde, Netherlands.

The elementary school's students chat loudly as their teacher prepares to start the day’s lessons.

Nine-year-old Geert Kruit is giggling at jokes his friend is telling, when the heavy classroom door swings open. Geert does not recognize the man who enters and without looking at the children, the stranger walks over to their teacher. Whispers ripple through the room as the children turn to each other, wondering who the man could be.

The stranger tells the teacher to come with him into the school’s main hall. But clearing her throat, she sternly tells him that she has a lesson to conduct. The man doesn’t leave though. Instead, in a single fluid motion, the stranger pulls a pistol and tells the teacher that she has to go with him, and adds that the children must come too.

Taut lines of worry stretch across the teacher’s forehead as she and her students are herded into the school’s main hall at gunpoint. Waiting there already are a hundred other frightened schoolchildren— some are crying; some are shouting; and others like Geert stand motionless in fear.

Geert counts four men in total with guns, including one at the front of the hall, clearly the leader, shouting instructions to the others. One of the armed men has his rifle pressed against the ear of the school’s principal, while the others aim their guns at the children, ordering them all to sit down and be quiet. Students listen to the gunmen and the children settle down, though their panic lingers.

News of the primary school hostage-taking quickly spreads, and the country rallies to cope with the unfolding crisis. The Dutch government sets up a committee of experienced negotiators and high-ranking officials. Elite commandos from the Royal Dutch Marines start preparing for an emergency strike. The media conducts interviews of the desperate parents waiting at the gates of the school.

Authorities try to make contact with the terrorists, but they aren’t interested in talking, until the next day, when they demand three things from the government. Dutch diplomatic support for an independent Moluccan state, the release of imprisoned South Moluccan terrorists, and a jetliner that would fly them to a secret destination. If these demands are not fulfilled by 2 PM the next day, the terrorists say they will blow up the school.

This ultimatum sends the government, media, and parents into a frenzy. The issue is debated by officials on television and at kitchen tables. But the Dutch government ultimately decides that it will not give in.

So as the deadline approaches, the tension in the air is palpable. Outside the school, the Royal Dutch Marines prepare to storm in at a moment's notice. They have orders to engage if they hear even a single shot being fired.

Inside the school, the atmosphere is equally grim. The terrorists tell the hostages about the 2 PM deadline. The teachers try to think of ways to protect the children. And eventually, they make a pact that if there is a bomb, whichever one of them is closest to it will jump on it.

At noon, two hours before the deadline, the terrorists line the students up near the windows of the school. They tell the children they are responsible for passing an important message to the Dutch Minister of Justice Dries van Agt. Pointing guns at their backs, the terrorists order the children to chant: “van Agt, let us live.” The heartbreaking chorus of the young voices is too much for some of the waiting parents to bear, and the police have to restrain them from running into the school to rescue their endangered children.

As the minutes tick by, all eyes are on the clock. At 1:59 PM, one minute until the deadline, the Dutch government’s crisis committee is silent, the marines get ready to charge, and despairing parents close their eyes in prayer. But when the clock strikes 2 PM, nothing happens. As another half hour passes without incident, the nation heaves a sigh of relief. As far as anyone can tell, the hostages are still safe.

But inside the school, reality is more complicated. While none of the hostages have been harmed by their captors, a terrible sickness has started to spread. As the children fall violently ill, the terrorists decide to release them on their fourth night of captivity.

But the crisis will be far from over. While the students are allowed to walk free, their teachers will remain hostages, and making matters worse, twenty miles away from the school, a second tragedy will be unfolding.

Act Two

It’s around 8:30 AM on May 23rd, 1977, aboard an express train running between the cities of Assen and Groningen in the Netherlands. It’s the same morning Moluccan terrorists will storm the Dutch Primary School.

In the first compartment of the train, Aad Twigt impatiently fidgets with the strap of his wristwatch. Even without looking at the dial, he knows he’s late.

Aad is a thirty-three-year-old marine instructor at a nautical school. After missing the train he normally takes to work, he hastily boarded an intercity express instead. But, less than fifteen minutes into the journey, his train lurched to a stop.

Aad instinctively gets up to see what’s wrong. And his eyes widen as he spots a young South Moluccan man in a gray raincoat with one hand on the train’s emergency brake and a gun in the other.

The hijacker is Max Papilaya, the leader of a group of South Moluccan terrorists who take over the train as part of a coordinated terrorist effort. At the very same time children and teachers are taken hostage at a nearby primary school, Papilaya’s group starts to take the train passengers captive.

They intend to hold them hostage in the second-class compartment. But it's not big enough to hold all the passengers. So, Papilaya takes it upon himself to decide the fate of the terrified first-class passengers before him, carelessly picking who must stay, and who is lucky enough to leave alive.

The passengers who are allowed to escape soon alert the Dutch authorities to the hijacking. The government calls in the same negotiators who handled the similar train hijacking that happened just two years ago. And as those officials get to work, the country holds its breath, hoping for a more peaceful resolution than the three casualties that resulted from the last incident. Meanwhile, inside the train, the Moluccans start securing their positions. Handing the remaining hostages stacks of paper and tape, they order them to black out the windows so police and soldiers can’t see in.

The next day, the terrorists start to speak with officials. The Moluccans allow the government to install a telephone inside the train. The hostages exchange hopeful glances with one another as the line of communication is established. But their optimism is quickly crushed. Negotiations go nowhere, and the hostages once again agonize over their fates. Many are certain that the terrorists will eventually start killing them. The only question is when and how. Some predict that they will be killed one by one. Others are sure that the terrorists will just blow up the entire train.

These worries are reinforced on the third day when, just like at the primary school, the South Moluccans threaten to explode the train at 2 PM if their demands aren't met. But, like at the school, the deadline passes without any explosion.

Over the coming days, tensions in the train periodically rise and fall. The terrorists never stop wielding their firearms, asserting their power over the hostages, but they never open fire. As days of captivity turn to weeks, the Dutch negotiators successfully convince the Moluccans to accept clean clothes and food for the hostages, but all the while negotiations go nowhere; the terrorists still refuse to surrender.

With talk stalled, the hostages have no idea how long it will take before they will finally return to their friends and families. As the hijacking enters its third week, they grow even more desperate for a conclusion. One of the hostages even uses a pocket mirror to flash a message in Morse code reading, “Come and help us get out.”

The flashing mirror catches the attention of the soldiers and officers waiting outside. But, unbeknownst to those aboard the train, the Dutch government is already deep into their efforts to stage a rescue. The Royal Dutch Marines have been using thermal imaging and listening devices to monitor the South Moluccans on board. This technology has allowed them to memorize the terrorist's daily routines, anticipate their movements, and ascertain their positions. But the flashed message from the hostage will finally spur them into action. Just three days later, after weeks of careful study and planning, the Marines will surround the train, ready to strike and save the hostages.

Act three

It’s around 4:45 AM on June 11th, 1977 in the field just outside the hijacked train; twenty days after its passengers were first taken hostage.

Crouched between the bushes are elite members of the Royal Dutch Marines, in camouflage fatigues and with weapons drawn. As dawn breaks, the terrorists and the hostages are asleep inside the train. But the Marines are ready to strike.

The early morning silence is abruptly shattered by the engines of six fighter jets swooping down on either side of the train, rattling its occupants awake.

Just as the marines hoped, the noise prompts the hostages to instinctively dive toward the floor and stuns the Moluccans. As the terrorists freeze, the Marines lift their guns. After tracking the movements of the Moluccans for weeks, they know exactly where they sleep every night, and just where to aim. Marines lock on and pull their triggers.

Confident they’ve killed most of the terrorists on board, the Marines divide into three squads and storm the train. As they search the compartments with their flashlights, they illuminate the faces of shocked passengers, along with the bodies of two lifeless hostages tragically caught in Marines’ fire.

The Royal Dutch Marines execute the rescue mission in less than twenty minutes. Along with the two passengers, six of the nine terrorists on board the train, including their leader, Max Papilaya, will be killed.

Simultaneously, a group of Dutch commandos drive an armored truck through the walls of the primary school, and the four terrorists inside surrender immediately. All the teachers being held hostage are rescued safely. And with that, the crisis draws to a close.

The surviving terrorists will be convicted and sentenced to prison. But the South Moluccan community will remain in a state of unrest. It will take many more years for the relationship between the Moluccans and the Dutch to improve, though it will. In the decades to come, many Moluccans will still advocate for independence or greater autonomy, but hostility toward the government will ease, never again leading to a crisis on the scale of the twin terrorist attacks that rocked the Netherlands on May 23rd, 1977.

Outro

Next on History Daily. May 24th, 1883. The Brooklyn Bridge opens to the public, becoming the longest suspension bridge in the world at the time of completion.

From Noiser and Airship, this is History Daily, hosted, edited, and executive produced by me, Lindsay Graham.

Audio editing by Muhammed Shahzaib.

Sound design by Mischa Stanton.

Music by Lindsay Graham.

This episode is written and researched by Rhea Purohit.

Produced by Alexandra Currie-Buckner.

Executive Producers are Steven Walters for Airship, and Pascal Hughes for Noiser.