My journalistic freedom has been partially taken away, by forces screaming that the press is not free

When I heard that the suspects had been arrested, I knew I would exercise my right to speak. But what I want to say changes by the day, by the hour. I’ve been reflecting on it for almost a year. During that time, there have been many moments when I’ve felt compassion for the suspects.

One of them became a father a couple of years ago. Both of them were trying to get their lives back on track, when luck hadn’t always been on their side. Those lives have now been destroyed, as have the lives of their loved ones.

When we’d completed the first legal forms, my girlfriend and I decided to treat ourselves to a nice dinner to end a tough day. For the first time, I wondered what Tjeerd and Jaimy would eat that evening. When Russia invaded Ukraine with the threat of nuclear weapons, I was happy to be with my girlfriend and cat. To have my family close by. That closeness represents security. At the same time, I wondered how Tjeerd, Jaimy and their families would experience that moment, far from each other. My thoughts regularly turn to those men.

There are only losers in court today. Those guys put our lives at risk, turned our world upside down and threw their own lives away. They have, I think, been set adrift by disruptive global developments. Persuaded by constant fake news and disinformation. Driven to despair by known troublemakers and conspiracy theorists. And legitimised by politicians who dismiss journalists and fan the flames for electoral gain. Scared that it’s all a big conspiracy. Afraid that key pillars of democracy are all part of the big lie. Convinced that doctors, nurses, journalists, scientists, teachers, politicians, cops, lawyers and judges are conspiring to deprive them of everything.

Those forces are causing people to become radicalised. Jaimy and Tjeerd might have thought they were doing society a favour by silencing me. They’d been completely brainwashed, the police investigation shows. They’re victims of malicious forces, and of their own limited ability to see through them. The Dunning-Kruger effect is a dangerous bitch, and it’s something to be pitied.

But it never lasts long. Every night I have to check the alarm is on. Every time, there’s the memory of that night, the reason the alarm is there. And things go wrong sometimes, too. That creates quite a commotion. Police in the street and security at the door. Lots of stress, lots of fuss. When I go out, I have to think about the steps I take. Where should I go, where should I avoid? Can I go to the football, should I give it a miss? If I go, my girlfriend is left behind worrying: as long as nothing happens, as long as he comes back home. That fear often keeps her awake until I finally fall into bed hours later.

At unexpected moments, we get a big scare. Like the other day, when our downstairs neighbours had a party and two boys were smoking in the stairwell; they had no idea about our trauma. I was awake, my girlfriend was sleeping and woke up because of the noise and the voices. She dashed downstairs, deathly pale and with a fear about her I’d not seen before. A while back, someone in the neighbourhood lit the first barbecue. I immediately switched into a state of flight. The smell of fire took me straight back to the fear of that night.

In an episode of The Wire, two men throw Molotov cocktails into a house. With greater success. Everything burns to the ground. The woman living there dies, her son suffers severe burns. That scene haunted me for a long time. What if? The trial, conversations with prosecutors, our lawyer and the media, all the hearings, the downplaying by the defendants’ lawyers: it brings it all back, it drains our energy. The event itself and the aftermath have put everything under stress: the relationship, our family, my girlfriend and myself.

We sought professional mental help. That’s not something I ever thought I’d have to do, and certainly not as a result of my work. Not because I have heartache, but because I write about issues in Groningen. Because I research, interpret, report and hold people to account. For the first time in my career, I feel hampered in doing my job.

For some time I’ve been threatened and intimidated. By the real estate sector I often write about, and by other groups. Never has my work been so dangerous. Firebombs thrown in the dead of night, into the house where my girlfriend and I were sleeping. In the narrow hall with the wooden floor, full of coats, umbrellas and boxes. Right next to the porch, which is also the only exit from the neighbour’s house. For the first time, I felt – no, I was – genuinely in danger because of my work. That feeling persists. I have to watch my words, I can’t go just anywhere anymore. My journalistic freedom has been partially taken away, by forces screaming that the press is not free.

There are only losers in court today. Those guys put our lives at risk and threw their own lives away

And it’s not just my freedom, it’s my colleagues’ too. The attack was a real shock, for the newsrooms at Dagblad van het Noorden, RTV Noord, OOGTV and of course Sikkom. My immediate colleagues have taken measures to increase their safety. It’s hacking away at the watchdog of democracy, and at other institutions that are central to society.

Police officers have been threatened by the same movements, their home addresses made public. Virologists receive threatening mail. Hospitals are besieged by phone. Politicians are intimidated in their own homes. Days after the attack, public health staff said they no longer dared to visit the neighbourhood with the vaccination bus because the suspects had been protesting there – a protest I reported on.

For me, this is terrorism. Using violence, intimidation and threats with a political motive to impose your will or to silence others. As sad as it is for the suspects, we need to clamp down on these actions before the whole of society is taken hostage by a small group of malicious radicals.

This case is bigger than the harm done to my girlfriend and me. It represents a dangerous development in society, which has found a breeding ground in existing and future social disharmony, such as the current debate around nitrogen. We have to act against this dynamic that undermines our democracy. In national, regional and local politics, in neighbourhoods and streets, among families and friends. In schools, offices, sports clubs and universities. In the media. And in the courts. To make it clear that terrorism doesn’t pay. So that the next potential attacker thinks twice and that public health worker dares to enter the neighbourhood again.

That’s why I’m hoping for a ruling that does justice to every aspect of this sad case.