Against the backdrop of an increasingly uncertain world order, the Netherlands seeks to “take responsibility” within NATO. Beneath that noble objective, however, something far more fundamental is unfolding: a gradual shift of power away from parliament and toward the executive branch and international structures. The Financial Defense Obligations Act (Wfdv) and the Defense Readiness Act (Wodg) mark a boundary-pushing moment in the Dutch constitutional order—not because of what they state explicitly, but because of what they quietly hollow out: democratic control, fundamental rights, and constitutional anchoring.
The Wfdv embeds a political NATO agreement—spending at least 2 percent of GDP on defense—into national law. As a result, this commitment is no longer subject to political judgment or economic conditions; it becomes a legal obligation. Formally, parliament retains its budgetary authority, but in practice that authority is reduced to negotiations above the 2 percent threshold (or possibly a higher percentage after the next NATO summit). Any deviation downward would require amending the law. In effect, the fiscal freedom of future parliaments is frozen. NATO does not compel this; the law juridifies a political norm, with the result that parliament voluntarily relinquishes structural budgetary power.
The Wodg reinforces this trend. Where the Wfdv locks in funding, the Wodg shifts authority toward the executive. Defense is granted broader latitude to undertake far-reaching preparations in peacetime, ranging from drone exercises to data processing and potentially the (temporary) use of civilian assets. The statute itself is a framework law, while its substantive content is delegated to orders in council and ministerial regulations—beyond meaningful parliamentary reach. Article 81 of the Constitution may not be formally violated, but it is materially eroded. The legislature authorizes regulation without retaining effective control over its implementation.
Even more troubling is the opacity surrounding property rights and privacy. The Wodg allows property to be (temporarily) deployed for defense purposes without explicitly providing clear statutory guarantees of compensation. Article 14 of the Constitution and the European Convention on Human Rights require that expropriation—even temporary—occur by law and with prior compensation. That is not expressly secured here. The processing of personal data is also given wider scope through subordinate regulations. Yet the General Data Protection Regulation requires that exceptions be established by formal legislation, complete with safeguards and proportionality. Carving out exceptions through executive orders may therefore conflict with European law.
Anyone reading these statutes will not find a coup d’état. What they will find is a systematic relocation of power. Authority that once lay squarely with parliament shifts toward the Ministry of Defense, the cabinet, and treaty-based commitments. These are national laws, yet they elevate the international framework above democratic deliberation. Voters may soon be choosing the color of the buttons, not the uniform itself.
Assuming responsibility for security is legitimate. But it must occur within a constitutional state where parliament governs, fundamental rights are paramount, and European norms serve as protection rather than obstacles. The Wfdv and Wodg put these balances to the test. The price is democratic control. For those unwilling to surrender sovereignty, vigilance is now required.
Rob Roos (former Member of the European Parliament)
