Joseph Luns, who served as secretary general of NATO from 1971 to 1984, was not a typical diplomat. When he took charge of the military alliance after nearly 20 years as the foreign minister of the Netherlands, Mr. Luns surprised his new colleagues by leaving the office at 1 p.m. on Fridays and reportedly wearing bright red slippers at important summits because they were “more comfortable than shoes.” Asked once how many people worked at NATO, Mr. Luns is said to have replied: “About 50 percent.”
Mr. Luns was known for being ebullient but prickly, with little patience for anyone whose support of the alliance was anything less than fulsome. This blend of authority and joviality served him well, helping NATO navigate the storm of protest around the Vietnam War, Ronald Reagan’s standoffs with the Soviet Union and the diplomatic fallout of the Soviet invasion of Afghanistan. Despite his unconventional ways, Mr. Luns was the longest serving secretary general NATO has ever had, racking up about 13 years in the role.
On Tuesday, another straight-talking, long-serving Dutch statesman will take the helm at NATO. Like Mr. Luns, Mark Rutte will take office after a long apprenticeship on the international stage: He recently ended an extraordinary 14-year run as prime minister of the Netherlands. Mr. Rutte takes office at a turbulent time, with NATO allies fighting a proxy war against Russia in Ukraine, the Middle East in turmoil and the alliance wracked by difficult questions about how it should expand in the future. A rising tide of far-right populism in countries including France, Germany and the Netherlands itself also threatens to upend decades of solidarity between allies. This would be an intimidating to-do list for any new secretary general, but also may mean that it’s the perfect moment for NATO — for the fourth time — to again be led by a plain-spoken Dutchman.
In some countries, the job of a president or prime minister is a visionary one, requiring bold leadership and soaring rhetoric. Here in Holland, however, coalition governments are the norm and the role of a Dutch premier is more like that of a small-town salesman: constantly chasing doubters, negotiating compromises and persuading people to make deals they don’t want to make. As prime minister, Mr. Rutte pivoted from governing with the support of the far right to governing in coalition with the center left. (“I usually compromise,” he said in 2018. “I mix water with the wine.”)
As the war in Ukraine rumbles through its third year, members within the alliance are split between those determined to repel Russian aggression — see Britain, France and Poland — and those who have opposed sending aid to Ukraine — see Viktor Orban of Hungary. Mr. Rutte himself has been a staunch ally of Ukraine, describing Vladimir Putin as “coldhearted, brutal, merciless,” and telling the U.N. in 2022: “This war is bigger than Ukraine itself. It’s about upholding the international rule of law.”
But Mr. Rutte is also a political chameleon, capable of being almost all things to almost all people. In The Hague, Mr. Rutte is known as an unassuming figure who generally eschews bodyguards, lives in a modest house and often gets around by bicycle. He is hawkish but socially liberal. After more than a decade of running the Netherlands, he is as comfortable in grand summit rooms and senates as he presumably was in a school in The Hague where, until recently, he still taught a weekly social studies class.
