On the 26th of November, 1908, the full strength of the Dutch navy sailed out of the harbor of Willemstad, Curaçao. Their destination: Venezuela. Their orders: stop and capture any Venezuelan vessel they came across. After years of harassment and threats from the government in Caracas, the Netherlands had finally had enough.
This is the story of how the two nations almost went to war. At the center of it all stood José Cipriano Castro Ruiz, then president of Venezuela. He was fifty years old, born in the mountainous province of Táchira on the border with Colombia. Though he came from the Spanish-speaking middle class, Castro proudly emphasized his Indian origins.
His supporters built a myth around him: an Andean warrior, hardened by the elements, who combined European education with native toughness. Castro entered politics in the 1870s. Venezuela, independent from Spain since 1829, had been torn apart by one revolution after another. Castro rose to lead an autonomous revolutionary government in Táchira, but in 1892 he was forced to flee to Colombia.
Seven years later, he returned with a guerrilla army. In October 1899, he marched into Caracas as the victor. Though his revolution was nominally about restoring liberalism, Castro ruled just as dictatorially as his conservative predecessors. He had two role models: Simón Bolívar, the legendary independence hero, and Napoleon Bonaparte, whom he admired excessively.
Like the French emperor, Castro was short in stature and liked to be called “the little corporal. ” The people of Caracas often saw him riding through the streets, seated imperially on a white horse. For most Venezuelans, that spectacle was about the only pleasure they got from their president. The country, economically and financially exhausted after decades of revolutions and civil wars, was further drained to finance Castro’s extravagant lifestyle.
According to Dutch social democrat Henri van Kol, who published an account of his Caribbean travels in 1904, Castro hosted orgies in his palace and no woman was safe from his desires. Van Kol called him a “Nero in miniature. ” U. S.
Secretary of State Elihu Root described him as a “deranged brute. ”
Opponents of Castro’s regime were imprisoned, murdered, or fled abroad. One traditionally popular refuge was Curaçao. The three Leeward Islands—Aruba, Bonaire, and Curaçao—had come into Dutch hands in the 17th century through the West India Company.
Curaçao, the largest, was the most profitable thanks to the transatlantic trade in enslaved people and exotic goods. Because Spain forbade all trade between its colonies and other powers, Willemstad filled the gap and became an important trading hub. By the 18th century, however, Spain opened its ports to foreign ships. The Dutch also faced competition from the British, who traded with the South American mainland from Trinidad.
Willemstad lost much of its former glory. But the growing unrest in Spanish territories, where nationalists sought independence, offered new opportunities. The Dutch islands became springboards, refuges, and transit points for illegal arms shipments. In 1806, Venezuelan rebel Francisco de Miranda withdrew to Aruba with some 300 comrades.
In 1812, Simón Bolívar, fleeing the Spanish army, stopped in Curaçao. When the Venezuelan revolution succeeded in 1829, the new regime recognized the Dutch Antilles and signed a trade treaty. But mutual irritations soon arose. Bolívar understood the risk Willemstad posed as a smuggling hub and refuge for political dissidents.
He wanted high import duties and restrictions on small vessels. After Venezuela withdrew from Gran Colombia in 1830, relations remained difficult. The Netherlands had to balance the government in Caracas with public opinion in the Antilles. While The Hague tried to stay friendly with Venezuela, the islanders sided with the opposition because they depended economically on smuggling.
The Netherlands could neither decisively oppose it nor truly wanted to. Venezuela responded by seizing suspected smuggling vessels under the Dutch flag, which in turn provoked demonstrative naval exercises from the Dutch. To prevent escalation, the Netherlands agreed in 1870 to extradite Venezuelan president Monagas’s political rival, Antonio Guzmán Blanco, who was planning a coup from Curaçao. The decision backfired.
Within a short time, Blanco seized power in Caracas. The new president was determined to make the Dutch pay. He ordered the seizure of Dutch merchant ships on suspicion of smuggling. When the Dutch chargé d’affaires protested, he was expelled.
After rebels against Blanco were supplied from Curaçao in 1874, he closed the ports of Coro and Maracaibo to Dutch ships. Seven years later, Venezuela introduced a 30 percent import tax on all goods transported from European colonies in the Caribbean. These so-called Antilles duties were meant to eliminate foreign competition. Willemstad suffered badly.
According to van Kol, the once prosperous Curaçao had become a distressed island. Ships lay idle, plantations decayed. “The condition of this Dutch colony is beginning to look hopeless,” he wrote. Around the turn of the century, calls grew for a drastic solution to the Antillean problem.
Two powers, both newcomers to the global stage, showed interest in Curaçao. The first was the United States. After reaching its continental limits, the country sought overseas expansion. In 1823, President Monroe had declared the entire western hemisphere off-limits to European colonizers.
At the end of the 19th century, the Americans took Spanish territories in the Philippines and the northern Caribbean. The Panama Canal made the rest of the Caribbean strategically vital. The second power was Germany. After the German Empire was proclaimed in 1871, the rapidly industrializing nation went in search of raw materials and markets.
In Africa and parts of Asia, the Germans established colonies, but in the western hemisphere their options were extremely limited. Any attempt to control South American countries would risk conflict with the United States. So Berlin chose a different approach: strong economic and diplomatic relations with the former Spanish colonies. German companies invested millions of marks in Venezuela, and a large German community grew in Tovar.
The government in Caracas made it clear it preferred Germans over Dutch as neighbors, suggesting three times—in 1875, 1879, and 1898—that Curaçao be occupied. German admirals were receptive, but the foreign office vetoed the idea to avoid trouble with the United States. In March 1902, however, Kaiser Wilhelm II received a report from the German consul in Batavia claiming the Netherlands would be willing to sell Curaçao. The Kaiser ordered his ministers to investigate.
Berlin watched with envy as American power grew. Some military figures even considered acquiring Curaçao and Suriname as a line where American expansionism must halt. But warnings from the German ambassador in Washington about the likely U. S.
reaction shelved all these plans. The rapidly deteriorating relationship between Germany and Venezuela also played a role. After seizing power in 1899, Cipriano Castro made a habit of antagonizing the great powers. In December 1902, the German, British, and Italian navies jointly imposed a naval blockade on the Venezuelan coast.
No ship could enter or leave, and German battleships bombarded Venezuelan ports. The cause was Caracas’s refusal to pay its enormous foreign debts. The Netherlands also had substantial claims but did not officially participate, though it allowed German warships to take on supplies in Willemstad. The United States did not intervene despite the Monroe Doctrine, and Castro was forced to back down.
He agreed to let the International Court of Arbitration in The Hague examine the various debt claims. The Netherlands ended up at the back of the line when Venezuela’s assets were divided. Castro had lost, but the conflict with the imperialist powers boosted his popularity at home. Aware of this, and remembering Dutch support for the blockade, he steered toward a new confrontation with The Hague.
In October 1907, five Italian vessels were seized by the Venezuelan coast guard on suspicion of smuggling. When the accusation proved unfounded, the crews were released, but they still paid heavy fines. The ships had also been badly damaged by Venezuelan customs officials. In mid-May 1908, Castro issued decrees undermining trade between Curaçao and Venezuela.
Curaçaoan captains were forced to transship cargo in the inconvenient port of Puerto Cabello instead of Coro and Maracaibo. Small trading vessels were barred from all ports. The conflict escalated after an interview given by the Dutch consul in Caracas. Due to a translation error by the Venezuelan Foreign Ministry, Castro was told the consul had called him an “evil spirit.
” In deeply religious Venezuela, that was an unforgivable insult. On July 20, 1908, the Dutch diplomat was ordered to leave the country, along with other Dutch diplomats. For the Dutch government, led by anti-revolutionary Prime Minister Theo Heemskerk, this was the final straw. The Hague issued Castro an ultimatum: withdraw the decrees by November 1, or face the consequences.
Meanwhile, Dutch diplomats checked Washington’s reaction should the Netherlands resort to military action. The United States raised no objections as long as the Netherlands did not occupy Venezuelan territory. As expected, Castro refused to yield. Now it was The Hague’s turn.
The government ordered the navy to sea. From November 26, 1908, Dutch warships patrolled the Venezuelan coast, intercepting every vessel flying the Venezuelan flag. Two coast guard ships, the Alix and the 23 de Mayo, were seized and laid up in Willemstad. The blockade was a textbook example of gunboat diplomacy.
Initially, it was a punitive measure. But The Hague hoped for more. In Caracas, Castro’s position was under pressure. His own vice president, Juan Vicente Gómez, a wealthy landowner who had once financed Castro’s revolution, now turned against him.
The Netherlands hoped the blockade would accelerate political change and force a regime shift. It succeeded, though other factors weighed more heavily. Even before the blockade began, Castro had left for Europe for medical treatment. Gómez seized his opportunity and took power.
The upheaval was not bloodless. During street fighting between supporters of Gómez and Castro, three large pharmacies owned by a Dutchman were looted. Compensation for the damage would be disputed with the new regime for years. Nevertheless, the Netherlands could call the operation a success.
The new president, Gómez, immediately took a different tone from his predecessor, emphasizing the importance of good international relations. On December 21, 1908, he withdrew Castro’s controversial decrees. Two days later, the Dutch recalled their fleet to port. For the Venezuelans, the latest change of power brought little improvement.
At first, Gómez appeared to grant the population more freedoms. But in the 1920s, he too developed Castro-like traits. Venezuela became a police state that spied on its own population and crushed any hint of opposition with violence and imprisonment.
While Gómez and his foreign allies amassed fortunes from commercial oil production, which took off in the early 20th century, the vast majority of Venezuelans lived in poverty.
