Prime Minister Dirk Jan de Geer sat within his office; Amsterdam sat just outside his windows. For centuries the Dutch capital had stood proudly, its wealth and prestige making it a jewel of western Europe.
However, the city had seen better years, and the people in it were increasingly swaying favorably towards their neighbors in the east.
The Dirk knew his time as Prime Minister was coming to an end. He just didn’t know if they would one day soon be flying foreign colors over parliament, or those of revolution.
A heavy sigh escaped his lips as he poured himself another glass of fine Scotch. He took a slight whiff of its enticing sent before allowing the amber liquid to trickle down his throat, burning it ever so slightly as he swallowed its ichor.
Just then his office’s phone rang, not once, not twice, but three times it rang until he could no longer ignore its attempt.
He picked up the phone and shoved it to his ear practically jumping out of his seat as he did so.
"What in the nine layers of hell could be so important that you must harass me at such an ungodly hour of the day? Parliament better be on fire, or I swear to God-"
Dirk was cut off immediately as the voice came from the other line.
"The East Indies are about to fall, and its governor is requesting immediate action to stabilize the region...."
Dirk instantly collapsed into his seat, pouring himself another drink, and taking a far larger gulp before finally responding.
"We do not have the forces to spare. Do you have any idea how long it would take me to get Parliament to approve sending an expeditionary force into the East Indies? Isn’t this why we have the East Indies Army to take care of these matters? Unless the locals suddenly got their hands on mortars and machine guns, I highly doubt that you will-"
"They have them..." Dirk was swiftly cut off again with the shocking news before the voice on the other line continued to speak. "Weapons appear to have been smuggled in from the Philippines, and the Governor understands the East Indies Army is not capable of winning this fight."
Dirk remained silent for a long while. He frankly couldn’t believe his ears. Armed revolutionary groups being supplied by the Philippines across the entirety of the East Indies?
It was like the Netherlands’ worst nightmares were stacking up atop one another, clambering to see which would be the first to gore their throat and take them down...
He was already up to his ideals dealing with the people’s complaints, and the civil unrest that was rapidly devolving into strife here at home. Now the Indies, the lifeline that had kept their economy afloat, was also about to rise up and revolt?
It was well and truly inconceivable, and his voice reflected that.
"This can’t be a coincidence... Here and now... As Amsterdam is being stressed to its limits, and the people are on the brink of rioting in the streets, that across the globe, the East Indies are also threatening to fracture and split away? What’s next New Guinea and Suriname as well?"
The streets outside his office had grown louder in recent months. Strikes, protests, slogans shouted in borrowed tongues. Even here, in the heart of Amsterdam, faith in the old order was thinning. The Empire was not merely strained abroad;it was fraying at its seams at home.
Whether it was coincidence, bad luck, or conspiracy, it truly didn’t matter, as the Netherlands did not possess the ability to quell uprisings in a collapsing empire. Most certainly not when the homeland was being threatened as well.
It was only then that the voice on the other line spoke again.
"The Governor is requesting that we not send forces, but instead make a public declaration of intent to formally decolonize and transition to local rule. And to begin withdrawing nonessential forces from the region as a sign of good faith."
The voice paused before continuing the train of thought.
"It is the Governor’s hope that such an action, if undertaken swiftly and with care can prevent armed insurrection before it occurs. And allow a peaceful exit from the East Indies that is beneficial to both sides...."
Dirk sat there with his head in his hands. His glass of whiskey was thoroughly drained a second time.
This was not an action he could simply declare on his own. He would need Parliament’s vote. And parliament couldn’t even reach an agreement on what color the new police uniforms should be let alone an issue of such magnitude.
Still, with everything else going on, if the Governor said this was a fight they could not win, then it meant that the East Indies were as good as lost. And if that was the case he had no choice. He had to formally bring the topic before Parliament.
With a heavy sigh, Dirk finally responded after a long silence between him and the voice on the other side.
"I understand.... Tell the Governor to hold on as much as he can. And tell him to prepare for the worst.... I will immediately bring this matter to Parliament’s attention, but I can’t guarantee action."
"It will have to be enough..." the voice said briefly before disconnecting the call. Leaving Dirk to sit back in his chair, staring at his ceiling fan with utter exhaustion.
"So this is how empires fall? Not with a bang, but with slow, ever-consuming entropy and the inability to manage it?"
Dirk didn’t say another word. He simply shook his head and poured himself another drink. Perhaps toasting to the Dutch Colonial Empire, which was now at the end of its lifespan.
In the following day Parliament would be gathered to discuss the topic of the East Indies. The politicians would argue and debate how they saw fit to handle the matter. All the while the situation in the region would deteriorate with each second wasted.