Sweden and the Netherlands Forgot They Were at War for 335 Years—and Nobody Bothered to Tell Them

Why Did Sweden and the Netherlands Stay at War for 335 Years—And Not Notice? The Forgotten Peace Treaty Explained

For over three centuries, Sweden and the Netherlands were technically at war—because no one filed the paperwork. The result? The world's most polite standoff… with zero casualties, epic forgetfulness, and more sassy paperwork than swords.

💡 Quick Summary:

  • Sweden and the Netherlands were technically at war for over 300 years due to a forgotten treaty.
  • No battles, no casualties—just extreme diplomatic forgetfulness.
  • Historians only discovered the accidental war centuries later.
  • The peace treaty was finally signed in awkward modern times.
  • This is the ultimate example of world peace by paperwork error.

The Historic Blunder: How to Start a War and Then Completely Forget About It

If there is one thing history teaches us, it’s that wars are usually messy, emotionally charged, and, most importantly, somewhat memorable. That’s why it’s absolutely delightful (and mildly concerning) that Sweden and the Netherlands managed to pull off the diplomatic equivalent of two friends having an argument, then ignoring each other for three centuries because they couldn’t actually remember what started the argument in the first place. So, how did two nations famous for their discipline and bureaucracy end up stuck in the world’s lengthiest accidental cold war? Buckle your seatbelt—preferably a 17th-century one designed for riding carriages, not SUVs.

The story begins in the tumultuous 1600s, a time of ruffles, velvet coats, and deeply complicated European alliances. At some point during the Second Northern War (1655–1660), Sweden and the Netherlands found themselves exchanging hostilities. Historians agree there was an official declaration. What they don’t agree on is whether anyone noticed. Apparently, the declaration didn’t even come with confetti.

Granted, the Dutch were busy expanding an empire, inventing financial systems, and eating way too much cheese, while the Swedes were building wooden warships that occasionally sank after two minutes (see: the Vasa). In all fairness, remembering to end the war may have landed somewhere between “pick up more tulips” and “don’t misplace the crown jewels” on their to-do lists.

The Decades (And Centuries) of Polite Neglect

Now, most wars, even the least effective ones, end with dramatic treaties, handshake photo-ops, and the occasional awkward dinner. Not this one! After hostilities fizzled (read: both sides got distracted by bigger and shinier wars), nobody signed the peace papers. No one. Nada. The Netherlands and Sweden simply moved on—as one does when forgetting about your neighbor’s birthday for 335 years straight.

Let me say that again for those not paying attention: This “war” technically ran from the 1650s to the late 20th century. Generations were born, wig styles changed at least ten times, electricity, disco, and the Snuggie were invented—and still, Sweden and the Netherlands enjoyed the world’s most uneventful diplomatic standoff. If anyone had staged a battle reenactment, it would have consisted of two grandmothers on opposite ends of the room exchanging passive-aggressive glances over tea.

Oddly enough, not a single ship was sunk, not a sword brandished, and certainly no cheese wheel thrown in anger. In an age where you could launch a war for less (see: the Great Emu War), this was a record-breaking showcase of bureaucratic oversight and mutual “meh.”

Why Is This Absurdly Important (Or Hilarious)?

Okay, you may be wondering: Why does the world’s longest, most forgettable war matter? Isn’t this the history equivalent of losing your keys for three months? In a way, yes. But also no. When the war was finally “discovered” by intrepid 20th-century archivists, it forced politicians into the most awkward peace process in history. As in, “Oops, did you know we technically hate each other? Should we maybe stop?”

The discovery amused both countries endlessly and quickly became a top-notch example of how international relations can sometimes be held hostage by administrative slip-ups. Instead of relying on saber-rattling, nations could declare peace with a bit of sheepish laughter, a cup of coffee, and a quick check of the national archives. Suddenly, history students everywhere were given powerful ammunition when handing in late papers: “But even governments forget their homework sometimes!”

This peaceful “oversight” holds a sneaky lesson: never underestimate the power of paperwork, or the capacity of two entire nations to lose the world’s longest grudge under a pile of tulip receipts.

How Did They Finally Notice? The Paper Trail of Doom

If you picture bespectacled historians pouring over crumbling parchment by candlelight, you’re not far off. In the late 1980s, researchers digging into old treaties (probably because Netflix didn’t exist, so what else was there to do?) realized there was no official end to the conflict on record. Cue a flurry of diplomatic phone calls with all the energy of siblings arguing over who ate the last stroopwafel.

Eventually, in a highly ceremonial (read: underwhelming) exchange, diplomats signed peace papers. There were no parades, no lavish banquets, not even a battle re-enactment with confused schoolchildren. Just a very official handshake and perhaps a few jokes about being really, really late.

For good measure, both countries agreed that if they ever went to war again, they’d put someone in charge of paperwork. Preferably not an intern.

How Does This Compare to Other Laughably Long Wars?

Sweden vs. The Netherlands wasn’t alone in the annals of accidental conflicts. You may be surprised to know that the “Three Hundred and Thirty-Five Years’ War” between the Isles of Scilly and the Netherlands also boasted a multi-century duration—another case of a war without a single shot fired. Clearly, the Dutch have a knack for either holding truly legendary grudges or cultivating epic forgetfulness.

Compare this to, say, the Hundred Years’ War between England and France, which was full of heroic charges, dramatic monologues, and at least 500 percent more beheadings. Or the Norwegian-British Cod Wars, which may sound like something your grandparents argue about at Lidl, but which were in fact a real, if utterly fishy, conflict involving trawlers and angry politicians. The long, boring war between Sweden and the Netherlands lowered the bar—by which we mean, there was literally no bar to trip over.

Fun takeaway: The more paperwork involved, the less dramatic the history. Maybe that’s why nobody remembers the world’s greatest folder wars or the epic battles of the Filing Cabinets.

Cultural Myths, Legends, and the Art of Forgetting a War

You may wonder if Swedes and Dutch people tell stories of brave (if forgetful) ancestors who “fought” in this war. Sadly, this incident has not given rise to any glossy Netflix miniseries with dramatic slow-motion scenes of generals glaring over paperwork. There are no commemorative statues of diplomats looking sheepish, nor any folk songs about treaties lost to history.

However, the event has seeped into anecdotal lore: “At least we’re not still at war and don’t even know it!” is a handy punchline across bureaucratic Europe. The only true cultural reverberation is a shared appreciation for double-checking legal documents—something that, apparently, only took 335 years to learn.

Could This Happen Today? (Spoiler: Yes, It Already Has, Because Humans)

If you think modern nations are immune, allow me to introduce you to the concept of “forgotten” conflicts. The great Guinea-Bissau–Sweden peace treaty delay. The time Australia forgot to legally end their war consolation with Germany until the 21st century. It’s almost as if government departments are designed to lose things—important, historical, world-changing things—between the paper clips and coffee mugs.

Could Artificial Intelligence someday prevent this? Perhaps, but only if Alexa starts reminding the United Nations to check their calendars for century-old open wars. “Hey Siri, are we still mad at Portugal?” is now only slightly less plausible than this entire true story.

Case Study: The World’s Most Polite Standoff—A Study in Non-Violence

Unlike most confrontations between nations (or even housecats), Sweden and the Netherlands managed over three centuries of conflict without so much as slamming a door. No one called anyone names, no angry diplomatic letters, not even a sternly written email. This conflict could honestly appear as an example in the world’s most boring—but wholesome—history textbook chapter on “What If People Just Forgot to Be Mad?”

It also set an accidental standard for future international relations: If your country is in conflict, try not doing anything about it. In 300 years, odds are no one will remember why you were cranky in the first place. World peace is only a few clerical errors away.

Historical Impact and the Great What-If

Had the war not been forgotten, would European history be radically different? Not likely. Unless you count a severe drop in tulip exports and an upswing in herring prices, the impact was effectively zero. In a world hungry for drama, it’s rather comforting to know that sometimes the universe prefers a good, old-fashioned clerical error over carnage. Someone cue the world’s smallest violin (played on a spreadsheet).

But imagine a scenario where Sweden and the Netherlands suddenly remembered their war in, say, 1750, and decided to have a “catch-up” battle. Europe would have witnessed the oddest, most belated “hostilities” ever. Fashion would be unsure whether to wear 17th-century frock coats or 18th-century breeches; weapons would have ranged from pikes to awkwardly reengineered muskets. The only thing certain: both sides would remain incredibly polite about it.

The Bottom Line: How to End a War, Eventually

The moral of the story? Check your paperwork. If you’re not sure whether you’re at war, get an intern to search the archives—or, at minimum, hold a quiz for your diplomats every decade to see if there’s a war they forgot about. Forgetting can sometimes bring peace, yes, but only if you’re sure nobody else remembers, either.

To all the world’s diplomats: Double-check your treaties. You never know if you’re technically mad at someone from centuries ago!

Final Thoughts: When Nature and Humanity Prefer a Good Laugh

Isn’t it wonderfully comforting that, amid humanity’s endless appetite for drama, someone—okay, a lot of people—can just forget to hate each other? Maybe it’s evolution’s way of reminding us that sometimes, forgetting is the best way to get along. Or maybe, just maybe, we owe world peace not to genius statesmen, but to gloriously chaotic paperwork and shared moments of collective confusion.

So next time you lose your car keys, or forget why you walked into a room, remember: somewhere, history forgot a war for 335 years, and everyone lived happily ever after. (More or less.)

Curious? So Were We

How did historians discover that Sweden and the Netherlands were still technically at war?

The revelation didn’t come courtesy of a dramatic, Da Vinci Code-style secret. It was more the result of keen-eyed bureaucrats in the late 20th century, who noticed the absence of an official peace treaty in the National Archives. Apparently, during a comprehensive look into historical documents (perhaps during a particularly slow season for parliament), researchers digging through dusty 17th-century records realized that, while conflict was indeed declared, no clear peace agreement closed the matter. Communicating with their Dutch or Swedish counterparts, it proved no one remembered ever ending the hostilities. Although the news caused mild amusement and head-scratching, it also supplied a great opportunity for two very polite countries to finally iron out a centuries-old paperwork wrinkle—in true Scandinavian-Dutch style, with good humor and mutual apologies.

Were there any practical consequences of the war lasting so long?

Surprisingly, the answer is almost entirely 'no.' There were no long-standing economic sanctions, territorial squabbles, or resentful pop songs commemorating lost opportunities. Since both nations quickly moved on after the original flare-up, the 'war' entered a state of dormant neglect—a bit like an unwatched sourdough starter, or that group chat you meant to leave in 2013. Neither side lost sleep (or trade) over the oversight, and by the time it was discovered, both Sweden and the Netherlands were more likely collaborating on environmental policy than plotting new wars. The final peace was thus mostly symbolic (albeit hilarious), closing history’s most forgettable chapter.

Why are forgotten wars and treaties a recurring theme in European history?

Europe, with its centuries of ever-shifting borders, noble houses, and tangled alliances, is absolutely ripe for forgotten paperwork. Throw in language changes, lost records, revolving monarchs, and the well-documented aversion of 18th-century officials to timely filing, and it’s a recipe for clerical confusion. Wars often ended informally with a handshake or understanding—official treaties lagged behind. Sometimes, leaders simply lost interest when the next shiny conflict or trade opportunity beckoned. That’s why, every so often, a student or archivist uncovers an ancient, still-on-the-books feud that’s harmlessly languished in bureaucratic limbo. The Sweden-Netherlands “war” is just the most amusing high-profile case.

Is it possible there are other forgotten wars still 'active' today?

Absolutely! And historians get almost giddy imagining which ones might yet come to light. Many diplomatic conflicts in early modern history went unresolved in paperwork, even if everyone tacitly agreed it was over. Given the mountains of documents in European archives and the human tendency toward procrastination, it’s all but certain a few more will turn up. Today’s scholars and archivists might still uncover treaties never ratified, declarations missed by leadership during a regime change, or statute books with surprising, war-like relics lingering from prior centuries. If anything, this story highlights how much history is yet to be rediscovered—often with results more absurd than alarming.

Did anyone ever attempt to take advantage of the forgotten war before it ended?

Not as far as records show! In theory, a mischievous government could have tried to stir the pot by using the archaic state of war as pretext for anything from trade tariffs to Olympic rivalry—but both Sweden and the Netherlands were far more focused on modern alliances and sensible policy by the 20th century. It is fun to imagine, however, a scenario where two historians dressed as diplomats appear at the Hague, dramatically demanding reparations for three centuries of imagined grievances: 'You owe us 4.2 million stroopwafels and a thousand complimentary saunas.' Alas, reality was far more boring and polite—the only retaliation being how deeply everyone blushed while signing the peace papers.

Wait, That�s Not True?

Many people assume that wars must be dramatic, involve armies, and at least one impressive mustache-twirling villain. The idea that any European powers, especially highly organized ones like Sweden and the Netherlands, could remain at war for centuries without anyone noticing seems downright impossible, perhaps even fabricated for comedic effect. Surely, they’d recall—someone’s tax bill, military conscription, or love of dramatic opera would have tipped them off? In fact, historical reality is far messier (or, in this case, tidier by accident). Wars frequently began and ended due to shifting alliances, paperwork that got lost in transit, or distractions like, oh, the complete rearrangement of European borders every few decades. Unlike the popular image of history’s constant chaos, many records vanished thanks to wars themselves, regime changes, or the natural entropy of well-aged bureaucracy. So, yes, two nations famous for cheese and snow can absolutely “ghost” each other for four centuries and only realize it when an eager historian squints at a faded parchment. The lesson? Don’t assume history’s epic blunders or amusements are always intentional—or immediately noticed by the people living through them. Sometimes, the dullest paperwork can outlast monuments, battles, and even entire governments.

Bonus Brain Nuggets

  • During the Renaissance, the Dutch once sent an ambassador to Sweden with 24 wheels of cheese as a diplomatic gift. Sadly, only 6 survived—cheese was an endangered species.
  • The world’s longest chess game lasted 269 moves, but even that’s shorter than this war. No word on whether the players forgot who was winning.
  • Sweden’s Vasa warship, built around the same period, famously sank within 20 minutes of launch—at least their wars lasted longer than their ships!
  • There is an actual sport called 'extreme ironing,' where people press shirts in bizarre locations. Unlike forgotten wars, it’s always finished quickly (for safety reasons).
  • Some countries have ‘ghost laws’—weird, forgotten statutes older than national holidays. In Alabama, it’s technically illegal to carry an ice cream cone in your back pocket, just waiting for two centuries to be repealed.
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