Deadly Diagnosis in the Netherlands
By Jonathan Imbody
January/February 2001 Family Voice

Slumped in a chair surrounded by books on philosophy, religion and sociology, Henk Reitsema still cannot fathom the tragedy that four years ago robbed his family of their grandfather.

A Christian thinker in the mold of Dr. Francis Schaeffer, the articulate young leader of the L’Abri Fellowship in Holland struggles with words. How do you describe your feelings after learning that your grandfather, like thousands of others in the Netherlands, had become a victim of involuntary euthanasia—medical killing without the patient’s consent?

“Numb was the first response, just not knowing what to feel,” Henk explains. “You imagined, ‘What was the doctor thinking in making this kind of decision? How do you view him? Did he murder your Granddad?’ Those feelings—you don’t know what to do with them. It’s very, very strange.”

Henk remembers, “This may have been something that was becoming normal in the Netherlands. But for our family, it was not even an option.”

The Reitsema family’s story illustrates the tragedy euthanasia has rained upon the Netherlands. But it also speaks to Americans. In 1996, the U.S. Supreme Court ruled assisted suicide did not fall into the ever-expanding category of constitutional rights. Then it effectively sent the issue to the individual states for “experimentation.”

As a result, more than 40 individuals have already died through a secretive, state-sanctioned assisted-suicide program in Oregon. Michigan voters, by contrast, roundly rejected assisted suicide in 1998. Last November, Maine voters narrowly rejected a misnomer, a “death with dignity” measure, and a cadre of California legislators currently plans to introduce an assisted-suicide measure.

As the Reitsema family’s story shows, reality tends to rust the rhetoric of “death with dignity.”

Instead, the doctor quietly ordered nurses to administer overdoses of morphine and withhold food and water. Rather than providing healing or comfort, and without consulting Grandfather Reitsema or his loved ones, this doctor aimed to kill.

Henk’s soft-spoken wife, Riana, had been regularly visiting Grandfather Reitsema. She relates that one of Henk’s aunts stumbled upon the plan—but too late. The day before he died, she tried to give him water, but the nurse didn’t allow it.

Horrified, the family realized the nursing home was euthanizing Grandfather Reitsema. Henk explains, “My family tried to reverse it, but he died from pneumonia”—a common result of heavy morphine dosing.

“Instead of being able to mourn together in the first place,” Henk laments, “they were having a slinging match as to who would have given permission. Nobody believed it could be possible that a doctor could make this decision single-handedly.”

Dutch politicians and health officials carefully emphasize a system of controls designed to ensure patient autonomy. In practice, however, those controls are a fairy tale. Dutch medical surveys reveal that in three out of four cases where doctors intervened to hasten death, the patient did not give permission.

“After talking to each other and getting the emotions calmed down,” Henk explains, “everybody realized that not even my grandmother had as much as given an insinuation that it was okay. One never would have imagined him not wanting to hold on to life. He respected the fact that God had given him life.”

Henk points to that conversation as an illustration of the philosophical chasm between the Christian view of the intrinsic, sacred value of human life and the utilitarian secular view.

“The framework is radically different,” Henk explains. “The whole connectedness with other people was totally absent from his mind. The doctor thinks, ‘This guy’s standard of life isn’t worth living, so let’s just save them all the effort.’”

The family considered legal action against the doctor.

“But it proved to be a no-win situation,” Henk explains. “Only the most extremely harsh cases ever come to court, and even then, the court always favors the doctors.”

Henk recalls, “The newspaper reported that they practiced ‘bed-rooming’—making space in the beds from time to time—by putting in what the Dutch call versterving. It’s a sort of humanistic Dutch word for letting somebody starve. It’s an official term that makes active killing of people sound like a treatment.

“When they needed beds for new patients, they would ‘clean out’ some beds. Make a checklist, and in a week, ten people would die. The records showed that this kind of administrative pressure had started to play a role in the diagnosis of the doctors. They become little lords over life and death.”

Unlike the impressive dams keeping the sea from flooding the Netherlands, euthanasia regulations have proven to be more of a breach than a barrier. Thousands of patients have drowned in a flood of exceptions and abuses. Last October 30, for example, a Dutch court acquitted a doctor who assisted with suicide for a depressed patient who was not even physically suffering—a clear flouting of the regulations.

The Dutch have now moved to officially legalize euthanasia, just as they have legalized drug use and prostitution, believing that legalization will somehow curb abuses.

In Oregon, state bureaucrats have trotted out statistics to bolster public faith in their new assisted-suicide system. The scrubbed-clean reports have offered no trace of the problems one would naturally expect in the nation’s first foray into institutionalized suicide.

The law shields the details of assisted suicides from public access. Despite this, some of the truth has gotten out. Stories have surfaced of suicide slipping into suspected homicide. In one instance, a family member suspected of murder had the supposed suicide victim cremated within 24 hours.

In an unguarded moment, an Oregon suicide advocate revealed a botched assisted suicide. The event landed its victim in the emergency room and eventually in a nursing home. Yet this case didn’t show up in the annual report.

Nationally, Vice President Al Gore had waffled on assisted suicide, attempting to frame the matter as one between patient and doctor. Last June 15 on MSNBC’s Web site, Gore said, “When a family member is in extremis at the very end of life, and there is a lot of pain, there is no quality of life, and there are very subtle judgments that have to be made. ... Common sense dictates that ought to be left to the family in consultation with the physician.”

In contrast, President-elect George W. Bush went on record opposing assisted suicide and upholding the Pain Relief Promotion Act, which passed in the House of Representatives but died in the Senate. That legislation would fund training in pain management and prevent physicians from using federally regulated narcotics in physician-assisted suicides.

“First of all, in principle, I’m against physician-assisted suicide,” Bush explained in the Portland Oregonian. “And secondly, ... the idea of using a controlled substance to end somebody’s life is something I don’t agree with.”

Dr. J. C. Willke is a euthanasia expert and president of the International Right to Life Federation. He aptly notes in his book, Assisted Suicide and Euthanasia, “History can repeat. Today we are living, once again, in the midst of a ‘culture of death.’”

As assisted suicide activists take their lethal campaign state by state, will Americans embrace life or slide down the slippery slope toward death? The answer depends largely upon Christians proclaiming the truth and demonstrating compassionate alternatives. Above all, each believer can help meet the deepest need of suffering patients, which is to know the One who makes life worth living.

Jonathan Imbody, Senior Policy Analyst in the Washington Bureau of the Christian Medical Association (CMA), recently spent two months researching euthanasia in the Netherlands. The CMA Web site offers information and resources on medical ethics issues and helps patients locate Christian doctors.

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