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RNZ News
17 hours ago
- Politics
- RNZ News
Fake news and real cannibalism: a cautionary tale from the Dutch Golden Age
By Garritt C. Van Dyk of The 6 January insurrection at the US Capitol in 2021. Photo: AFP/ Getty Images - Samuel Corum The Dutch Golden Age, beginning in 1588, is known for the art of Rembrandt, the invention of the microscope, and the spice trade of the Dutch East India Company. It ended a little under a century later in a frenzy of body parts and mob justice. In 1672, enraged by a fake news campaign, rioters killed the recently ousted head of state Johan de Witt and his brother Cornelis. The mob hung them upside down, removed their organs, ate parts of the corpses, and sold fingers and tongues as souvenirs. Even in a period characterised by torture and assassination, this grisly act stands out as extreme. But it also stands as a warning from history about what can happen when disinformation is allowed to run rampant. The attack on Johan and Cornelis de Witt was fuelled by a relentless flood of malicious propaganda and forgeries claiming the brothers were corrupt, immoral elitists who had conspired with enemies of the Dutch Republic. The anonymous authors of the smear campaigns blamed Johan for war with England and "all the bloodshed, killing and injuring, the crippled and mutilated people, including widows and orphans" that allegedly kept him in power. According to one pamphlet, the violence was legitimate because the ends justified the means: "Beating to death is not a sin in case it is practised against a tyrant." The sentiment echoes a quote frequently attributed to Napoleon, recently shared by US President Donald Trump on social media: "He who saves his country does not violate any law." These days, of course, we've become accustomed to the dangers fake news (and deepfakes) pose in the promotion of political violence, hate speech, extremism and extrajudicial killings. In March, for example, historical footage of war crimes in Syria was manipulated by generative AI to appear as current events. Combined with disinformation in chat rooms and on social media, it incited panic and violence. The effects were magnified in a country with no reliable independent media, where informal news is often the only source of information. But even in a superpower with an established media culture, similar things happen. Before the January 6 insurrection at the US Capitol in 2021, Trump called on thousands of supporters at a "Save America" rally to "fight like hell" or they were "not going to have a country anymore". This was shortly before Congress verified the presidential election result, which Trump alleged was invalid because of voter fraud. Addressing the same crowd, Trump advisor Rudolph Giuliani called for "trial by combat". What happened might not have been as extreme as the events in the Netherlands 350 years earlier, but a violent mob fired up on disinformation still shook the foundations of US democracy. The deeper forces at work in the US were and still are complex - just as they were in the 17th-century Dutch Republic. What brought it down was a volatile mix of power struggles, geopolitical rivalries and oligarchy. William of Orange had been excluded from the office of stadtholder, the hereditary head of state, by a secret treaty with England under Oliver Cromwell to end the First Anglo-Dutch War. When the English monarchy was restored, however, the treaty became invalid and the Orangists attempted to reinstate William. Johan De Witt represented the States Party, made up of wealthy oligarchs, whereas William was seen as a man of the people. The republic had built an impressive navy and merchant fleet but neglected its army. A land invasion by France and allies was supported by the English navy. To prevent the invasion from advancing, land was flooded by opening gates and canals. The combination of floods and an occupying army threw the economy into chaos. The Orangists wouldn't cooperate with the States Party, and the republic was on the brink of collapse. The Dutch referred to 1672 as the Rampjaar, the "disaster year". Satirists, pamphleteers and activists seized on the crises as an opportunity to ramp up their campaign against the de Witt brothers. Political opposition turned into personal attacks, false accusations and calls for violence. Johan was assaulted and stabbed in an attempted assassination in June 1672, resigning from his role as head of state two months later. Cornelis was then arrested for treason. When Johan went to visit him in prison, the guards and soldiers disappeared, and a conveniently positioned mob dragged the brothers into the street. The rest, as they say, is history. William III was strongly suspected of orchestrating the brothers' gruesome murder, but this was never confirmed. Is there is a moral to the story? Perhaps it is simply that, in a time of crisis, a campaign of disinformation can transform political opposition and rebellion into assassination - and worse. Pamphlets - the social media of their day - manipulated public perception and amplified popular anxiety into murderous rage. A golden age of prosperity under a republic headed by oligarchs ended with ritualised political violence and the return of a monarch who promised to keep the people safe. They say history doesn't repeat, but it does rhyme. As ever, the need to separate fact from fiction remains an urgent task.
Mail & Guardian
3 days ago
- Business
- Mail & Guardian
Put an end to four centuries of corporate plundering of Africa
Cecil John Rhodes epitomised the consolidation and expansion of white supremacy, corporate interests and state power. For the past four centuries, corporations have exploited — butchered — the African continent, leaving behind scars, open wounds and entrails which can be seen from space. The history of the continent could be told as one of corporate rule briefly interrupted by colonialism or, as the late novelist and scholar Ngugi wa Thiong'o put it, of 'corpolonialism'. South Africa's past and present exemplifies this. The Cape was colonised by a corporation, which then imported enslaved people to provide labour and enable the Dutch East India Company to lay the material and symbolic foundations for the regime of white supremacy and racial domination that culminated in apartheid. When slavery was no longer profitable, and so the British decided to 'abolish' it, the empire 'expropriated' enslaved people across it colonies and formally freed them — but not before paying £20 million pounds in compensation to white slaveholders and their creditors in the name of 'justice and equity'. These 'reparations', paid to white people for the end of slavery, were then reinvested through the new corporate vehicle of the joint-stock company. They were used to finance further colonial expansion and consolidate white domination over land, labour and lives, globally. In the Cape colony, for example, white compensation for black 'emancipation' quintupled the money in circulation in the economy; more than doubled imports and exports; financed the violent settler expansion on the colony's eastern 'frontier' and led to the establishment of its first private bank in 1837. The number of joint-stock companies in the Cape doubled, as white beneficiaries of 'emancipation' pooled their compensation to generate more wealth. White former slaveholders leveraged their land, capital and credit to re-subordinate the newly freed 'apprentice' labourers and become rent-seeking slumlords. The greatest beneficiary of the trade in compensation claims — the London-based merchant house of Phillips, King & Co. — financed the exploration of copper in Namaqualand, drawing a line from 'compensated emancipation' to the mining and extractive monopolies that emerged after the discovery of diamonds and gold. The consolidation and expansion of this three-headed hydra of white supremacy, corporate interests and state power throughout the latter half of the 19th century is epitomised in the figure of Cecil John Rhodes. This race-state-company nexus was also central to the system of colonial apartheid that emerged over the course of the 20th century. Rhodes's successors — who controlled as much of the economy as the apartheid state — were joined by the various corporations established under the volkskapitalisme, many of which dominate the continent today. As the Truth and Reconciliation Commission concluded: 'Business was central to the economy that sustained the South African state during the apartheid years. Certain businesses … were involved in helping to design and implement apartheid policies … Most businesses benefited from operations in a racially structured context.' This unholy trinity of white supremacy, corporate interest and state power is not unique to South Africa. Its global articulation was on full display in the White House two weeks ago as the world's most powerful statesman, the world's wealthiest man and rich white men who chase white balls around for a living put on a spectacular performance of ignorance, entitlement and victimhood. One after another, US President Donald Trump invited each of these unelected white men to roll back the years and weigh in on the present conditions and future prospects of the majority of people in South Africa, who were once again being held hostage to the delusions of a white minority. The ball-hitters obliged, literally speaking over Cyril Ramaphosa, the democratically elected president of South Africa, and Zingiswa Losi, the leader of the country's largest trade union federation, Cosatu. It was all too much for golfer Ernie Els, who momentarily forgot which side he was on and thanked the US for its support in maintaining apartheid. It was the most honest moment of the whole spectacle. President Trump's corporate handler, Elon Musk, loomed large but said nothing. Rather, his ransom was delivered by South Africa's second richest man, Johann Rupert, who declared that he had opposed apartheid from birth — as long as he had benefited from it. He said South Africa must abandon its insistence that corporations operating in South Africa — which for centuries have worked hand-in-glove with colonial apartheid to advance the interests of a white minority — should include a mere 30% ownership stake for the majority of South Africans. This would allow Musk's Starlink — a central part of the US military-industrial complex — to not only colonise space but recolonise the continent. Another demand, made explicit in Trump's recent executive order, is that white beneficiaries of centuries of racial domination who have amassed an absurdly disproportionate amount of the privately owned land (and wealth) should — like their slave-owning forebearers — once more be compensated in the name of 'justice and equity', regardless of whether the land was 'justly' acquired and is being 'equitably' used, or even used at all. Social movements, activists and affected communities have been working to hold corporations to account for their depredations on the continent since the 1900s. An early and instructive example is the work of South Africa's own Alice Kinloch, a pathbreaking pan-Africanist and pioneer of the field of business and human rights, who was born in the Cape in 1863 and moved to Kimberley in the 1870s. In the final years of the 19 th century, Kinloch pointed out that: 'The handsome dividends that a certain company pays are earned at the price of blood and souls of … black men. Shareholders may be in happy ignorance of this, so we would remind them that there are several thousands of fellow-men kept under lock and key for their sole benefit, and that the gems on their wives' hands, and the finery bought by their 'profits' are, to 'seeing' eyes, bespattered with human gore.' Kinloch proceeded to set out 'the state of affairs in South Africa, for which the bloody, brutal and inconsiderate hands of avarice and might are answerable', where '[f]or more than a quarter of a century Kimberley has been the stage for the worst forms of undisguised inhumanity' at the hands of 'their master the Company'. In doing so she pointed to the race-corporation-state nexus, noting that De Beers was 'a company as ostentatiously 'colour-hating' as its chief, Cecil Rhodes'. Kinloch established the African Association in 1897, which organised the first Pan African Conference in 1900. The resolutions of that conference included a call for direct action in respect of 'the situation of the native races in South Africa', including the 'degrading and illegal compound system of native labour in vogue in Kimberley'. The work of Alice Kinloch and her fellow pan-Africans should serve not only to inspire us but instruct us. Last week, social movements, activists and affected communities met in Johannesburg for the 7 th African Regional Indaba on a Binding Treaty on Business and Human Rights organised by the Centre for Applied Legal Studies, the Alternative Information & Development Centre and Lawyers for Human Rights. The treaty negotiation process began in 2014 following a resolution by the Human Rights Council — co-sponsored by South Africa — to 'elaborate an international legally binding instrument to regulate, in international human rights law, the activities of transnational corporations and other business enterprises'. The future of the treaty is uncertain, as efforts towards corporate accountability more generally are backsliding everywhere. Both the US and the EU are rolling back what little controls they had in place to regulate the actions of corporations. Countries of the Global South are being put under immense pressure to ease regulations to facilitate the second 'scramble for Africa' under the banner of a 'green transition' that relies on minerals the West has declared 'critical'. In South Africa, the Competition Commission is appealing a decision of the competition appeal court which effectively neutered the commission's capacity to hold companies operating beyond our borders accountable for the negative impact of illegal activities in the republic. The appeal arises from the commission's efforts to prosecute the largest banks in the world — whose market capitalisation exceeds $2 trillion, some of which were founded with the compensation paid to white slaveholders — for the coordinated manipulation of the rand. The competition appeal court's 2024 decision threw out the case against 17 of the 28 banks before they had even responded to the allegations. When the Centre for Applied Legal Studies requested permission to intervene as an amicus curiae to place the banks' conduct within the framework of domestic and international human rights law, the constitutional court refused our application. In the face of these challenges, we must continue to hold the line on corporate accountability for what Kinloch rightly described 'handsome dividends … earned at the price of blood and souls', including through defending the treaty process, which has been led from the outset by the Global South. Like Kinloch, we must also insist on a continental response, including by supporting the African Commission on Human and Peoples' Rights' efforts to draft an African regional treaty to regulate the activities of transnational corporations. Four centuries of impunity for corpolonialism is enough. Professor Christopher Gevers is the director of the Centre for Applied Legal Studies and an associate professor at the School of Law, Wits University.
IOL News
20-05-2025
- Politics
- IOL News
Redress is not revenge: Understanding the need for equality in South Africa
. Lorenzo Davids is the Executive Director of Urban Issues Consulting. Image: Supplied There are not 142 race-based laws on the statute books in South Africa in 2025. From 1652 to 1910, South Africa was colonised by the Dutch East India Company and later by the English. The colonisation of the land and its indigenous people was characterised by brutality towards Africans and unlimited privilege for Europeans. It's a privilege that still reaps benefits for white people today. Currently, 62% of the management positions in the South African economy are held by whites, while being only 7% of the population. From 1910 to 1994, for eighty-four years, South Africa was governed by internationally condemned race laws that dispossessed Black, Coloured and Indian citizens from full participation in politics, economics, education and all other aspects of civil life in the land of their birth. Race-based laws were the bedrock of Apartheid South Africa. Black bodies were buried in unmarked graves across South Africa, while the brandy and braai fires of Apartheid security forces celebrated another terrorist killed. Most of white South Africa did not bat an eye at the torturous deaths of black people. They braaied while we buried. There are not 142 race-based laws on the statute books in South Africa in 2025. For decades, colonisation taught all of us that white privilege was a right, and that racial equality was a threat. It was in the DNA of colonisation. Colonisation indoctrinated thousands of Black, Coloured and Indian people to believe this lie, and many still do so today. Video Player is loading. Play Video Play Unmute Current Time 0:00 / Duration -:- Loaded : 0% Stream Type LIVE Seek to live, currently behind live LIVE Remaining Time - 0:00 This is a modal window. Beginning of dialog window. Escape will cancel and close the window. Text Color White Black Red Green Blue Yellow Magenta Cyan Transparency Opaque Semi-Transparent Background Color Black White Red Green Blue Yellow Magenta Cyan Transparency Opaque Semi-Transparent Transparent Window Color Black White Red Green Blue Yellow Magenta Cyan Transparency Transparent Semi-Transparent Opaque Font Size 50% 75% 100% 125% 150% 175% 200% 300% 400% Text Edge Style None Raised Depressed Uniform Dropshadow Font Family Proportional Sans-Serif Monospace Sans-Serif Proportional Serif Monospace Serif Casual Script Small Caps Reset restore all settings to the default values Done Close Modal Dialog End of dialog window. Advertisement Next Stay Close ✕ The mandate of our new Constitution is to fix the lies, undo oppression and bring universal equality. It is called redress. It's not racism. Neither is it reverse racism nor revenge. However, the system of privilege will fight to the death to preserve its gains. The system of privilege will tarnish redress. It will protect its continued power and make its own stories filled with victimhood. The redress laws are there to provide access, opportunity and equity for those who have been subjected to three centuries of physical and psychological dehumanisation, which has left scars that will take years to heal. But as the saying goes, equality can feel like oppression for those who have lived lives of privilege. Most white people don't want to acknowledge the scars of their oppression on black people. There are not 142 race-based laws on the statute books in South Africa in 2025. That's a lie. Whether Elon Musk, Donald Trump or The Institute of Race Relations say it is, it remains a lie. There are laws on the statute books to fix the consequences of historical discrimination still embedded in the system. Black people must see the importance of continuing to engage their former oppressors and the current privileged in far more meaningful and strategic dialogues. To not do to them what they did to us. To not only seek to make political announcements from podiums but to show a greater humanity that humanises our oppressors. We should not use the redress laws as a sledgehammer but as a craftsman's tool to design something beautiful everyone can admire. I frequently experience the continued arrogance of the former oppressors who inject their very narrow, ill-informed narratives as the only narrative that everyone must regard as the truth. Completely oblivious of their continued privilege and dominance in all aspects of South African life, they talk like they are the victims. Is a new South African humanity possible through redress? I hope it is. In the image of the towering and powerful Nelson Mandela's visit to the diminutive and cloistered Betsie Verwoerd in 1995, I saw how we can begin to do redress without revenge. We need a new bravery to stand together at the metaphoric South African pothole and there, together, design the plans to fix the injustice of our past and the incompetence of our present failures. For those who are hard of hearing, redress is not revenge. Cape Argus
Metro
10-05-2025
- Metro
9 things to do in Amsterdam that aren't the usual tourist traps
As someone raised on the other side of the world, I'd always been fascinated by Amsterdam's eccentricities, bolstered by sordid tales of the Dutch capital. From the Red Light District and its window hawkers to its proclivity for 'coffee shops' that are not coffee shops at all, the city is often portrayed as a beacon for salivating tourists and stag parties ready to run amok. So much so, the city ran a marketing campaign telling tourists not to come. Amsterdam is hardly an up-and-coming destination, nor is it off the beaten track, with millions taking a quick flight or a four-hour Eurostar direct from London each year. Laying bare the failure of that anti-tourist advert, it was reported that as many as 20 million people head to Amsterdam each year. I am now one of them. Known as the greatest 'planned' city in Northern Europe, Amsterdam began life as a 13th-century fishing village, before evolving into a global trade force to be reckoned with during the 17th-century Dutch Golden Age. As the Dutch East India Company established trade routes and colonies in Asia, Africa, and the Americas, the country was blessed with a blend of art, architecture, and cuisine. Over the centuries, artists and thinkers flocked to the area, with a vibrant arts scene a lasting testament to Amsterdam's intellectual freedom. Fuel your wanderlust with our curated newsletter of travel deals, guides and inspiration. Sign up here. I was keen to experience the city in a way that didn't involve red lights or coffee-not-coffee shops. What I found was a forward-thinking, friendly and food-loving city steeped in history and charm. So long as you're a respectful visitor… If you're after quick but tasty snack, beeline for one of the city's hundreds of FEBOs, which are essentially automated heated vending machines. Open well into the early hours, each locker is filled with croquettes, frikandellen (a sort of minced sausage), hamburgers and cheese-filled kaassoufflés you'll devour as quick as they're served. Simply tap your card for a few Euro, and a small perspex door will flap open, exposing a golden-crumbed croquette with mouth-watering contents. Designed to be eaten on the go, I could see workers hurrying in the background replenishing stock, so you know the food is fresh. Our first port of call on any holiday is a walking tour, but Amsterdam calls for something different. Circling the city are 165 canals connected by more than 1,200 bridges. This intricate network makes for a stunning 'spiderwebbed' landscape that's best seen from water level. To get the best footing for my weekend ahead, I hopped aboard a Boat Amsterdam guided tour (€25) and was exposed to a calmer way of navigating the city's culture. Even better was the free-flowing wine and beers as you cruised along and waved to punters on the banks, as our guide Thomas (a history teacher by day) took us through the backstories on the back canals. The backdrop is row upon row of slanted houses sinking into the marshes; they look like they're dancing. There are only a few seats at this first-floor bar, but any wait is worth it for one of The Flying Dutchman's whimsical concoctions. Often included on 'top cocktail lists', the establishment has previously also been listed in the prestigious World's Top 500 Bars. You'll find it at the Odeon, a national Dutch monument, a short stroll from the heart of Amsterdam. The menu is set up to cover the 'evolution' of classics in three functions, 'walk', 'run' or 'fly', with something to suit all tastebuds. I went for a Lavender Honey Sour (€16.50), which was a 'run' on the evolution of the prohibition-era cocktail, the Bees Knees. Seventeenth-century boozer De Drie Flescjes (Three Little Bottles) has been pumping ciders and local beers since 1619. It lays claim to the 'oldest tasting room in Amsterdam', hidden behind the Nieuwe Kerk on Dam Square. The perfect antidote to the city's busy streets – alongside a 'headbutt', which is the moniker given to a glass of Bols Genever served with a freshly tapped pilsner – we added a heavy plate of ox sausage tartare, served with a splodge of tangy mustard, and spent two divine hours people watching. You can't visit Amsterdam without trying a traditional stroopwafel, a round cookie made from two layers of sweet baked dough held together by syrup. I was told by locals there was only one place to go: Rudi's. Tucked away inside the Albert Cuyp Market, prepare for a queue, but watch as seasoned waffle0makers pump out a production line of caramel-filled treats with Olympic speed. It was the perfect fuel for meandering through the rest of the market stalls. A chocolate-dipped stroopwafel will set you back €3.50. We booked a table at Hap Hmm in Leidseplein via email and settled in amongst Dutch families and a smattering of tourists who must have spotted the same Google reviews we did. We started with Carpaccio with pesto (£10.50), followed by the widely recommended schnitzel with peppercorn sauce (€19) accompanied by creamed spinach, cabbage and vegetables, before finishing with a decadent chocolate souffle with fresh cream, washed down by a blonde local beer. The service is fast, so this is no place to while away the hours — odds are, the table has been booked after you. Amsterdam's culinary offering is a brilliant cacophony of influences, but there was one I was keen to try after it took up permanent residence on my TikTok For You page. Chun Cafe's sandwiches attract daily queues of up to two hours. We arrived early and mercifully only stood in line for 40 minutes, before being rewarded the rib-eye bulgogi (€14.50) and bacon egg cheese (€13). You'll have many a local asking what on earth you're lining up for. Most of Amsterdam's residents live in apartments, so on a sunny day, be prepared for every inch of available outdoor space to be snapped up sharp. Armed with a strattiatella focaccia from Zero Zero deli, I walked to what may be the city's most famous green space, Vondelpark, named after poet Joost van den Vondel. Completed in 1877, it's 47 hectares of open space, ponds and playgrounds where you can get a moment's respite from the crowded city centre. Amsterdam is home to many a world-class museum, but make sure to head across the water to NDSM where you'll find not only a thriving flea market, but the lesser-known Straat Museum (€19 a ticket). Here you'll bear witness to the history behind street art, with massive installations of political significance hung in a cavernous warehouse. If you're not game to brave a bike like the locals, Amsterdam's public transport system is a cinch. The city is walkable, but there are also free ferries that cross the river and trams where you can tap on and off with contactless payment. We enjoyed an unseasonably warm spell when we visited in early March, but locals confirmed this was a rarity. Visit in the 'shoulder' seasons, in April-May or September-October, when there are fewer crowds but pleasant temperatures. I hopped aboard a Eurostar, which runs direct trains from London St. Pancras International to Amsterdam Centraal via Lille and Brussels, taking approximately four hours. More Trending If you're shelling out for Premier, you'll be served a full meal on board as well as drinks and snacks while you watch the European countryside zoom by. Tickets in Premier start at £315 in May one way, Standard fares start at £39 one-way. If you'd rather go by air, British Airways, KLM, Air France and EasyJet offer direct flights to Amsterdam's Schiphol Airport. You can snap up an EasyJet flight, which takes a little over an hour from London, from £84. If you really want to take your time, you can drive, with the journey from London to Amsterdam taking around seven hours, while a coach from London Victoria Coach Station to Amsterdam Central Station may be the cheapest option, starting at £30, but will take around 12 hours. Best value: We rested weary heads at Park Centraal Amsterdam, just out of the thick of the city centre but still surrounded by excitement without the hefty price tag. Flanked on one side by the massive Vondelpark, but only a stroll from trendy De Pijp and the Van Gough Museum and Rijksmuseum, classic rooms in May start at €175 per night. Best location: The Hoxton is known for being a trendy spot no matter which city you stay in, and its location just over the river from De Wallen (of red light fame) can't be beaten. A standard room in May starts at €367 per night. MORE: The UK's most 'walkable' city is a vibrant coastal spot just an hour from London MORE: Spain weather warning issued with holidaymakers told they could see snow MORE: TUI launches new flights to 'laid-back' beach city just in time for summer
Euronews
13-04-2025
- Business
- Euronews
How a Dutch trading company started the World's First Stock Exchange
ADVERTISEMENT 'Fast' is an understatement for the stock market today. Real-time price updates on a screen and stocks changing hands at the click of a button—this is the face of modern trading, be it in Tokyo, London, or New York. But, how did it all get started? It turns out that modern stock trading traces its roots back to a Dutch trading company over four centuries ago. On 20 March 1602, the Dutch East India Company ('Vereenigde Oostindische Compagnie' in Dutch) or the VOC announced the first initial public offering (IPO), laying a foundation for modern financial markets. Article 10 of its charter said: 'All the residents of these lands may buy shares in this Company'. The idea of investments predates the launch of the VOC's IPO. Dutch historian Marteen Prak told Euronews that before the VOC, companies followed a traditional model where merchants pooled money into single trade voyages within Europe or overseas. 'After the trip, the accounts would be settled and people would, well, in case of a profit or at least a sort of positive result, get their investment back. And then of course, they could reinvest in the next trip and so on,' he added. However, the VOC was a pioneer in two particular aspects. Firstly, the stock ownership was open to all without any set minimum investment amount, and secondly, shares were tradable. Dutch historian and economist Lodewijk Petram noted in his book, The World's First Stock Exchange, that a provision had been added to the first page of the charter after its initial granting. It said, 'Conveyance or transfer [of shares] may be done through the bookkeeper of this chamber'. This paved the way for a secondary market. Investors had the option to trade the shares with someone else instead of keeping their money locked up for years. Investing not only for the elite Trading took place at three key locations: the New Bridge, where merchants conducted the world's first share transactions in the open air; the Hendrick de Keyser Exchange, a purpose-built marketplace for commodities and shares; and Dam Square, where after-hours trading continued based on the latest news and rumours. The IPO registration was open throughout the month of August. A sum of 3,674,945 guilders was raised from the 1,143 initial investors. One of them was Neeltgen Cornelis, who worked as a maid for one of the owners of the VOC. She invested 100 guilders, a hard-earned sum when her wage amounted to 50 cents a day. Related Gold reaches a new milestone as global trade war escalates Market insights: What is behind the European stock markets' rally? 'This was very usual and not exceptional at all,' Dutch economic historian Jan Luiten van Zanden told Euronews. While the move made by Cornelis might surprise people in today's context, it was fairly standard for the time. 'There were a lot of shares being traded and invested by, well, normal households, a carpenter or a farmer,' van Zanden said. He also explained that letting ordinary people invest was a condition set by Johan van Oldenbarnevelt, then Grand Pensionary of the Dutch Republic. This was before the pre-companies that merged into the VOC joined together as one large corporation. Waiting for dividends 'The idea was, let's put them all together and create a more powerful company—not only commercially but also militarily,' Marteen Prak told Euronews, describing the VOC's formation as a deliberate power move. ADVERTISEMENT 'The Netherlands was attempting to gain its independence from the King of Spain, because they were all ruled by the same crown- Portugal, Spain and the Netherlands. So it was also seen as a form of warfare against the Spanish Empire in Asia,' he said. This long-term vision had its drawbacks — notably a lack of cash in hand for investors. For almost a decade since the launch of their IPO, the VOC did not pay any dividends, leading to rising discontent among its shareholders. On top of this, another development was creating pressure on the company — the world's first short seller. In 1608, Isaac Le Maire, a disgruntled former director of the VOC, led what is now considered the world's first bear raid. Le Maire and his syndicate used forward contracts to bet against the VOC share prices. ADVERTISEMENT These contracts, similar to modern-day futures, allowed investors to agree on a sale price in advance, expecting to profit when the actual price dropped. Unlike today, no collateral was required—just a written agreement was enough to strike a deal. Payouts of mace This organised attack exacerbated the frustration among investors waiting years for returns, putting pressure on the VOC. Finally, in August 1609, the company announced its first dividend. It was not cash money. 'They used the surplus of mace, which was difficult to sell at the market at the time,' Professor van Zanden explained, noting how the VOC distributed a spice from the nutmeg tree cultivated in the East Indies . 'It was a kind of compromise solution,' he added. ADVERTISEMENT Starting in 1623, the VOC paid dividends every two years, then more regularly from 1635—often annually or semi-annually. In the 1630s and 1640s, dividends were mostly cloves, which shareholders accepted gladly. From 1646, dividends were mostly in cash, with occasional bond distributions. This maintained shareholder confidence and allowed prices to steadily rise. Decline of the VOC Professor Prak also described the decline of the VOC in the late 18th century, attributing it to the rise of French and British colonial powers. 'It became increasingly expensive for the Dutch Republic and also for the VOC to hold off their rivals,' the historian said. 'When it became clear that it would go bankrupt, the Dutch government bought all the shares.' Pioneering key financial innovations since its inception, the VOC laid the cornerstone for today's capital markets. For the following two centuries, it remained a key player in global trade, until its gradual decline. ADVERTISEMENT 'This [the VOC's tenure] is a long time of good success,' said Professor van Zanden. 'And the failure at the end of the 18th century is related to the general weakening of dominance with the rise of competitors,' he added.
