a belly full of stones and
a basket filled with flowers

The wolf is back in the Netherlands! But which wolf? Throughout history the wolf has taken on many forms: a thief, an unholy monk, a sexual predator, a tyrant, a racist caricature, a Nazi, an unwanted body of water and a symbol of the other. All these narratives have been crafted by human storytellers, projected onto an animal, often with underlying intentions.
   The real story of the wolf’s return, however, appears to be a complex accumulation of many different actors. The wolf, the sheep, the early agricultural human, the city dweller, the fence, the wildlife camera, Ursula von der Leyen’s pony, Little Red Riding Hood’s basket, they all have a special place in the intricate web of the story of the wolf.
   This thesis explores how storytelling has shaped the wolf as a negative archetype, what the animal symbolizes in the Netherlands today, and how we might shift our perspective on nature through different ways of storytelling.

Introduction

In 2017, a young female wolf, born in East Germany and coded GW998f, travelled 600 kilometres west in search of new territory to form a pack. Unknowingly, she crossed into a land that had not seen a settled wolf in over 150 years. When her droppings were found on Dutch grounds in July 2018, national news declared it official: the wolf was back in the Netherlands.

Soon after, a mate followed, and cubs were born. It was a romantic story that captivated the Dutch media. But the public sentiment quickly shifted when the first sheep fell victim to the newcomers’ appetite. Fascination turned into controversy, sparking a heated debate that continues to this day. Picked up by Dutch politics, the topic of the wolf became a culture war in full blossom, 1 01.   The term culture war refers to “disagreements about cultural and social beliefs between groups, especially between people with more conservative opinions and people with more progressive opinions” From: “Culture War,” Cambridge Dictionary, Cambridge University Press. Accessed 11 Feb. 2025. In the context of the debate about the wolf in The Netherlands, pro-wolf ideas are mainly picked up by leftist parties, whereas anti-wolf ideas usually roam in right winged parties. The topic of the wolf has repeatedly been used in political debates by rightwinged parties to show their support of Dutch farmers. polarising city and farmland 2 02.   De wolf is onder meer het symbool geworden van de kloof tussen het platteland en de stad”, stelt milieufilosoof Martin Drenthen, verbonden aan de Radboud Universiteit in Nijmegen. “Wel of geen ruimte voor de wolf? Ook dat is een verkiezingsthema.” NOS, 19 Feb. 2023, Accessed 8 Jan. 2025. and reviving the age-old image of the Big Bad Wolf.
    So-called "pro-wolf" advocates celebrate the return of the animal, seeing it as a sign of ecological restoration. They highlight the wolf’s role as a keystone species. 3 03.   Keystone species, like the wolf, are organisms that have a large impact on their ecosystem, helping to maintain its structure and balance. Their presence or absence can significantly influence the abundance and diversity of other species within the community. On the other side stand the "anti-wolf" groups, who worry about the challenges of coexistence with an apex predator. For them, the wolf means a direct threat to the lives of domesticated animals such as sheep, ponies and dogs. And some even fear the safety of humans in a country shared with the wolf.
    Like many Western European children, I grew up encountering numerous wolves in bedtime stories like The Wolf and the Seven Young Goats, Little Red Riding Hood and The Three Little Pigs. Growing up in the Dutch city of The Hague, these tales of dark forests and lurking predators felt far away, yet their messages were clear: the wolf was dangerous, cunning, and cruel. Though fictional, these stories have shaped perceptions of wolves for centuries, and their influence persists today.
    In this thesis, I move away from the opposing views on the wolf’s return to explore the fictional wolves that have long lived in our stories. In the first chapter, I examine the origins of the wolf’s villainous image and how these narratives continue to shape public discourse, often utilized by those who oppose the animal’s presence. In the second chapter, I explore how the wolf has acquired new symbolism in the modern age, challenging Dutch perceptions of nature and culture. Finally, I propose an alternative approach to storytelling, drawing on Ursula K. Le Guin’s Carrier Bag Theory of Fiction 4 04.   Le Guin, Ursula K. The Carrier Bag Theory of Fiction. Ignota Books, 2019. and Donna Haraway’s Staying with the Trouble 5 05.   Haraway, Donna J. Staying With the Trouble: Making Kin in the Chthulucene. Duke UP, 2016. to imagine new narratives of coexistence with wolves.
    I want to emphasize the Dutch context of this research. As someone who grew up in the Netherlands with a deep love for nature, I have always struggled with the way nature is approached here. In this thesis, I explore this perspective by examining the stories and symbolism surrounding wolves. When I use “we” and “our”, I am specifically referring to the Dutch cultural context in which I was raised.

The Agency of Storytelling

1.1 History of Wolves and Humans—and Sheep

In prehistoric times, wolves and humans coexisted without much conflict. It is even suggested that they benefited from each other’s presence. A group of wolves would stay close to a group of humans, scavenging their leftovers, while in return, the wolves provided warnings when danger from other animals or natural forces was near. 6 06.   Van Der Meulen, Dik. De Kinderen Van De Nacht: over wolven en mensen. Querido, 2016. This kind of relationship is not hard to imagine when considering dogs, the domesticated descendants of wolves, whom we still intertwine our lives with to this day.

This collaborative relationship began to fade only after we chose another animal to keep close to us: the sheep. As some of the first animals to be domesticated, sheep provided early agricultural societies with wool, meat, and milk—important provisions for life at the time. While the sheep’s ancestors, mouflons, were quick and difficult to catch, we offered wolves a much slower, more abundant version—often fenced in—making them easy prey. The wolf might have seen this as a kind gesture on our part, and so, unknowingly, they took something we considered our own. 7 07.   Van der Meulen, Dik. Interview. Verscheurd door de wolf, hosted by Job van der Plicht, episode 4, Nu.nl, 23 Sept 2023

1.2 The Big Bad Wolf

As the conflict with sheep-preying wolves made coexistence increasingly difficult, people in many European regions resorted to killing them. It wasn’t just the wolf’s population that declined severely during these hunts, but also its reputation. In Christian stories, sheep symbolized the faithful, Jesus was the shepherd, and the wolf became a metaphor for the devil. Other stories reinforced this view—Ysengrimus, the wolf who often appears in Reynard the Fox, was depicted as greedy and foolish, while the scary Big Bad Wolf lingered in children’s fairy tales like The Three Little Pigs and Little Red Riding Hood.

“And they lived happily ever after” is the familiar reassurance at the end of a thrilling fairy tale. But the line rarely applies to the wolves in these stories. Instead, they often suffer a horrid death that feels out of place in a cute bedtime tale. In The Wolf and the Seven Young Goats, Mama Goat cuts open the wolf’s belly, fills it with stones, and then lets him drown in the nearby river. 8 08.   Grimm, Jacob, and Wilhelm Grimm. The Wolf and the Seven Young Goats. Translated by Margaret Hunt, Household Tales by the Brothers Grimm, vol. 1, George Bell & Sons, 1884, pp. 36–39. In The Three Little Pigs, the piglets trap him in a pot, boil him alive, and eat him for supper. 9 09.   Jacobs, Joseph. English Fairy Tales. G. P. Putnam’s Sons, 1890, pp. 34–38. This suffering of fictional wolves mirrors the real life terrors that were inflicted on the species.

1.3 A Human in Wolf's Clothing

The rise of these stories, resulting from human’s deteriorating relationship with wolves, created a lasting negative archetype of the animal. To this day, wolves suffer from this vilification through storytelling, with its demonized image helping to justify its extermination in areas where they are considered unwanted.
   It’s interesting, however, to look at the earliest stories in which wolves played the villain, as they don’t seem to be about wolves at all. Ysengrimus 10 10.   Nivardus. Ysengrimus. c. 1148 is a beast epic from 1148—a genre of animal tales satirizing human society, with animals playing human roles. In this epic, a foolish and greedy monk is portrayed as the wolf named Ysengrimus, yet the story says nothing about the animal itself.

The same applies to one of the earliest versions of Little Red Riding Hood, 11 11.   Perrault, Charles. Histoires ou contes du temps passé, avec des moralités. Claude Barbin, 1697. written in 1697 by Charles Perrault. The story unfolds much as we know it today, but after the young girl is eaten, Perrault adds a few lines to clarify the moral of his tale:

"Children, especially attractive, well-bred young ladies, should never talk to strangers, for if they do, they may well provide dinner for a wolf. I say ‘wolf,’ but there are various kinds of wolves. There are also those who are charming, quiet, polite, unassuming, complacent, and sweet, who pursue young women at home and in the streets. And unfortunately, it is these gentle wolves who are the most dangerous of all."
Again, the wolf is a stand-in for human dangers, chosen simply because it was a commonly hated and feared animal.
   Other stories don’t explicitly base the wolf on humans but still contain clear parallels. In The Wolf and the Lamb, 12 12.   Aesop. Aesop’s Fables. Translated by Vernon Jones, Dover Publications, 1993. which appeared in Aesop’s Fables probably around the 4th century BCE, a hungry wolf meets a lamb by the river. Inevitably, the wolf wants to eat the lamb, but since it looks so helpless, the wolf seeks an excuse to devour the innocent little creature. It blames the lamb for all sorts of things, which the lamb invariably proves to be impossible. No matter the refutations, the wolf loses its patience and feeds on the lamb. The fable ends with the moral:

"The tyrant can always find an excuse for his tyranny.
The unjust will not listen to the reasoning of the innocent."
It’s not surprising that this fable was written by Aesop, an enslaved person in ancient Greece. It also strongly resembles how Western society treats the wolf, or any non-human life for that matter. An anthropocentric perspective leads us to believe that humans are superior to other forms of life and that nature can be instrumentalized to our own will. We think we are the dominators over nature, and thus, there are no consequences for our behaviour and injustices, as the tyrant can always find an excuse for his tyranny.

   These stories about humans in wolves’ clothing reveal more about human nature than about nature itself. They served as cautionary tales—not about wolves, but about people. Still, these negative traits stuck to the wolf’s image, becoming engraved in our collective memory. Even after the very last wolf in the Netherlands was killed in 1868, fictional wolves continued to linger in our stories. In the absence of real wolves, the imaginary ones grew bigger and scarier, especially with the rise of animation. In 1933, Disney brought to life the well-known image of the Big Bad Wolf: an anthropomorphic, sly, drool-dripping, and skinny figure, always out to trick and kill innocent others.

In Disney’s first animated version of The Three Little Pigs, the wolf disguises himself as a racist caricature of a Jewish door-to-door salesman, hoping to trick the piglets into letting him in. Just a few years later, in 1941, Disney reimagined the wolf as a Nazi in The Thrifty Pig. This shift highlights the paradoxes of the evil wolf character and how it serves as a blank slate onto which the storyteller projects their own convictions.

1.3 Little Red Riding Hood Syndrome

Now that the wolf has returned to the Netherlands after more than 150 years, it’s no surprise that our primary associations with the animal come from these stories. These connotations more than likely influence the intense reactions to the wolf’s presence. Especially in terms of media attention, the issue is often blown out of proportion.
   In March 2015, an unsuspecting wolf made a brief outing from its usual German territory onto Dutch grounds. The curious animal took a quick stroll through the village of Kolham, appropriately walking along the curb. At the same time, two villagers filmed the scene from the front seat of a moving car, capturing a fascinating video: the wolf casually trotting past front yards and miniature windmills. No one seems to be scared, neither the wolf nor the people filming. Yet, when a British newspaper picked up the story a month later, its headline read like a direct continuation of a history filled with frightening wolf tales:

“Terrifying footage of wolf prowling city streets looking for its next meal.” 13 13.   “Terrifying Footage of Wolf Prowling City Streets Surfaces.” The Mirror, 15 April, 2015. Accessed 23 Jan. 2025.
The language used here is similar to the rhetoric of Caroline van der Plas, leader of the BBB (the Dutch farmers’ party), who responded to the wolf’s return in 2022 with the remark:

“It’s a matter of time before the wolf attacks a child.
Little Red Riding Hood? Soon, that will no longer be a fairy tale in the Netherlands.” 14 14.   “Minister Wil Maatschappelijke Dialoog Over de Wolf in Nederland.” NOS, 11 November 2022. Accessed 30 Jan. 2025.

In reality, wolves in the Netherlands pose practically no danger to humans. 15 15.   While there are historical accounts of wolves attacking people, this only happens in extreme circumstances. For example, when a wolf suffers from rabies, is wounded and pushed into a corner or during human wars, when wolves struggle to find their usual food. Aside from that, a wolf will often keep its distance from a human, staying cautious. Humans have never been a natural prey for a wolf. From: “De wolf is gevaarlijk voor de mens. Feit of fabel?” Natuurmonumenten. Accessed 11 Feb. 2025. However, these fear-driven responses can be linked to what is informally known as Little Red Riding Hood Syndrome—a phenomenon in which fictional narratives of dangerous wolves continue to shape public perception, reinforcing the vilification of the species. Opponents of the wolf’s return, often use these narratives to spread fear and to justify calls for reopening the hunting season on the wolf, and it seems to be working. Although killing wolves is currently illegal due to their high conservation status, this protection is now under threat.

In the German state of Lower Saxony, on the night of September 1 2022, a male wolf known as GW950m left the forest and entered a paddock, where he killed a pony. 16 16.   “A Wolf Killed the EU President’s Precious Pony: Then the Fight to Catch the Predator Began.” The Guardian, 27 Jan. 2024. Accessed 2 Feb. 2025. However, this wasn’t just any pony—it was Dolly, the 30-year-old pet of the president of the European Commission, Ursula von der Leyen. This unfortunate event set off a chain reaction that resembled an act of personal revenge. DNA tests revealed that Dolly wasn’t GW950m’s first victim; numerous other kept animals had been killed before her. As a result, he was labelled a problem wolf, and using her political influence, von der Leyen issued a special permit bypassing his protected status, authorizing his execution. However, GW950m was hard to find as he had long disappeared into the woods again.
   Through the European Commission, von der Leyen also proposed lowering the protection of wolves across Europe, making them easier to hunt—a change scheduled to take effect in March 2025. 17 17.   “Commission Adopts New Measures to Protect Europe’s Wolves.” European Commission, 30 Jan. 2024. Accessed 2 Feb. 2025. While this policy shift had been in discussion for some time, critics question whether von der Leyen’s personal loss accelerated the decision. Ironically, GW950m hasn’t been found to this day and still roams freely in the German woods, unaware of the consequences his nightly hunt on Dolly might have had for his own species’ population in Western Europe.

Like von der Leyen, those who oppose coexistence with wolves often portray themselves as protectors of the innocent animals that fall victim to wolf attacks. Yet when we consider the scale of livestock farming in the Netherlands, it becomes clear that wolves are far from the greatest threat. 18 18.   Stable fires claimed the lives of over 60.000 animals in 2024, a relatively good year compared to the 130.000 victims in 2022. Over 65.000 sheep have died of Bluetongue virus in 2024. The most recent data, which comes from the end of October last year, shows 666 livestock and pets deaths attributed to wolves from the beginning of 2024. From: “Stalbranden Nederland 2025.” Animal Rights, 18 Jan. 2025, and Redactie Het Schaap. “Oversterfte schapen door blauwtong in 2024 hoger: 65.000 schapen.” Het Schaap, 18 Dec. 2024. and “Schade door de wolf in 2024: 95 procent van de aanvallen geen wolfwerend raster.” Omroep Gelderland, 23 februari 2025. For example, thousands of farm animals die in stable fires each year. Another major killer, especially of sheep, is the Bluetongue virus, a deadly disease spread by flies. Unlike wolf attacks, Bluetongue is nearly impossible to prevent. And yet, flies don’t suffer from the same vilification as wolves. After all, I suppose the “Big Bad Fly” doesn’t sound quite as convincing as the “Big Bad Wolf.”
   The wolf thus captures our imagination in a way that other threats to domesticated animals and humans do not. If the true concern were livestock safety, practical solutions like wolf-repellent fencing could be implemented. But so far, these efforts have mostly stagnated in an ongoing debate over whether wolves are welcomed back or not. With the new plans of the European commission, the existence of the wolf in Europe is once again under threat. Von der Leyen could have advocated a less destructible solution, like reinforcing international protective fencing for animals like her own Dolly, but instead she chose to address the issue by giving in to anti-wolf sentiments, letting her personal story with GW950m serve as another villainous wolf tale. The fact that the wolf has been seen as an enemy for so long has undoubtedly made a decision like this easier. Little Red Riding Hood Syndrome blinds people to the possibilities of sharing land with wolves.

Crossing Borders

On top of the widely roaming Little Red Riding Hood Syndrome, the wolf has acquired a new symbolism in the Netherlands, one that is deeply rooted in Dutch cultural conceptions of nature. Since fictional wolves are rarely based on real wolves and reveal more about the storytellers than about the animals themselves, it’s important to have a look at these storytellers in a Dutch context, to see what the wolf means to the Netherlands today.
   “The wolf does not belong here” is a recurring statement when discussing the presence of wolves in the Netherlands. 19 19.   Published examples: “Wolf Hoort Hier Niet Thuis.” De Telegraaf, 14 Feb. 2024, Accessed 6 Feb. 2025. and “De Wolf? Die Hoort Niet Thuis in Nederland.” Algemeen Dagblad (AD), 15 Feb. 2024. Accessed 6 Feb. 2025. This argument often continues with the claim that, after centuries of human impact, no true “wild nature” remains, leaving no space for a wild animal like the wolf. This perspective overlooks a crucial fact: the wolf chose to come back, serving as direct proof that there is a viable habitat for the species.

2.1 The Waterwolf

It’s true that, throughout history, the Dutch have exercised extensive control over their natural environments. A famous saying goes, “God created the world, but the Dutch created the Netherlands,” referring to the long history of land reclamation and water management. With much of the country lying below sea level, the Dutch engineered an intricate system of dikes, polders, canals, and pumps to reclaim land from the sea and prevent floodings. There’s a strong sense of pride in this mastery over nature.
   I experienced this pride first-hand during a staff outing to Madurodam last summer. This small amusement park in The Hague features scale models of iconic Dutch landmarks. Since my last visit as a child, several new “multi-sensory experiences” have been added, all charged with a strong sense of Dutch nationalism. After flying a KLM airplane, reliving the First Assembly of the Free States, and navigating a funhouse filled with works by Dutch Masters, we arrived at one of the park’s latest attractions: Beat the Waterwolf.
   In this installation, several narrators recount the story of how the Dutch drained the Haarlemmermeer lake in 1836. Early in the ride, we’re introduced to the lake’s personification, learning that the people of Holland gave it “the more than frightening name, The Waterwolf.” As the narrative unfolds, wolf howls echo in the background, and we are told that an “attack” by the water is near. Soon, it’s our turn to join the battle, whilst spinning fake steam engine wheels, we are urged to hurry as “The Waterwolf has already woken up!” After this thrilling fight, we get reassured: the danger has passed because we have “defeated the Waterwolf”.

Though certainly glorified, the attraction is based on historical facts and it’s true that, during the era of land reclamation, the Dutch referred to unwanted bodies of water as the Waterwolf. This metaphor mirrors the vilification of the actual wolf: as both wolf and water are portrayed as enemies to be conquered. In our possessive eyes, wolves ate from “our sheep”, and water ate from “our land”. And, in line with the sly tactics of the wolf in Aesop’s fable, these stories became convenient vehicles for justifying the control—and often the marginalization—of nature, whether it’s a predator or a flood.

2.2 The Other

The successful reclamations of land from water have given the Dutch a confident sense of being stronger and smarter than nature itself. This mindset has extended beyond the waterfronts and into inland environments as well. As the self-proclaimed “makers” of our land, we take a designer-like approach to nature, shaping it to meet human needs rather than those of non-human life. These interventions have reached into the smallest details of our environments, reinforcing the idea that the Netherlands is no longer a natural landscape but has entirely transformed into a cultural one. 20 20.   “Nederland ligt in de Noordwest-Europese laagvlakte als een delta en is vrijwel volledig in cultuur gebracht. Het Nederlandse landschap is daarom een cultuurlandschap bij uitstek. Het is het resultaat van de wisselwerking tussen mens (inrichting en gebruik) en natuur (water, bodem, reliëf en ecosystemen).” “Inleiding Landschap.” PBL Netherlands Environmental Assessment Agency. Accessed 2 Feb. 2025. The portions of nature we have decided to keep in the Netherlands are carefully placed within enclosed areas, open to the public only during the day. This creates the sense that we are merely visitors to nature, rather than an integral part of it. 21 21.   Drenthen, Martin. “De Wolf is Terug: Lezing en Gesprek met Milieufilosoof Martin Drenthen.” Radboud Reflects, 6 Feb. 2025. Accessed 13 Jan. 2025.
   It reflects an effort to separate cultural landscapes from natural ones, as environmental philosopher Martin Drenthen explains. 22 22.   Ibid. He adds that we use the word “wilderness” to describe nature that exists outside our cultural sphere, where things happen that we prefer to keep at a distance from our society. In that sense, the term “wilderness” splits the world into two parts: the place where we belong and the place that is other—disordered, hostile, and frightening. A place where evil roams freely. In her book Purity and Danger, 23 23.    Douglas, Mary. Purity and Danger: An Analysis of Concepts of Pollution and Taboo. Routledge, 2002. As connected to wilderness by Drenthen, Martin. “De Wolf is Terug: Lezing en Gesprek met Milieufilosoof Martin Drenthen.” Radboud Reflects, 12 Sept. 2023. anthropologist Mary Douglas, similarly argues how every culture establishes a symbolic boundary between what is familiar and what is foreign. When this boundary is crossed, something impure and ominous emerges. This is how a culture defines itself. In the case of Dutch culture, Drenthen argues, we create this divide by claiming to be a cultural landscape where there is no space for the wild.
   Contrary to widespread belief, wolves don’t confine themselves to deep forests but often settle near humans, roaming built-up areas without concern, like the wolf that casually strolled through Kolham. Given the Dutch idea of a separation of “wilderness” from cultural landscapes, the wolf serves as a symbol that defies these made-up boundaries. It embodies what Mary Douglas describes as “the foreign” and, as Martin Drenthen notes, symbolizes what we see as other, chaotic, and frightening, leading to the common, but historically inaccurate, claim that “the wolf doesn’t belong here.”
   However, since the 21st century, an urge to bring back wilderness—meaning, in this case, nature untouched by humans—has grown through the “rewilding” movement. Rewilding is contradictory, as it’s a controlled way of trying to let go of control, and is often based on Romantic 24 24.    The Romantic period viewed nature as a sublime, spiritual force—both beautiful and untamed—offering inspiration, emotional depth, and a refuge from industrialization and rationalism. ideas of nature. This paradox is nicely illustrated with the subtle difference between the two Dutch terms herwilderen (rewilding) and verwilderen (going wild). 25 25.    Peeters, Norbert. Wildernis Vernis: Een Filosoof in het Vondelpark. Prometheus, 2020. Pp.98 While both refer to becoming “wild,” one is an active, controlled process, and the other a spontaneous one, often with negative connotations of chaos and neglect, like the wilderness that Martin Drenthen mentions. In rewilding, each step is carefully calculated by humans, resulting in a designed and artificial kind of wild. Wolves, however, came to the Netherlands on their own terms, partially due to these rewilding efforts. By that logic, their return could be considered a successful rewilding operation. But wolves soon began behaving in ways that clashed with human convenience, by killing livestock, passing through urban areas, and disrupting enclosed reserves. Unlike purposely reintroduced species, the wolf doesn’t cohere to man-made boundaries. It illustrates a broader belief: that nature is only welcome when it behaves in ways convenient to humans, thus the wolf was quickly framed as a problem that needed to be solved.
   This mindset mirrors Dutch nationalist attitudes towards people seeking asylum in the Netherlands. It’s no coincidence that right-winged parties, who strictly want to protect borders from these asylum seekers, also oppose the return of wolves. Where the wolf once symbolized unwanted water through the Waterwolf, refugees are now often described using “water language”—terms like “migration wave,” “streams of asylum seekers,” and “refugee flows” frame them as natural forces rather than individuals. 26 26.    “Het Gevaar van Watertaal: Asielzoekers Zijn Geen Stromen.” OneWorld, 27 Jan. 2025. Accessed 4 Feb. 2025. The hostile image is enhanced by comparing them to water, which the Dutch have battled for centuries. The choice of words is important in these examples where crafted metaphors of evil, like the wolf, become reused to vilify different kinds of “enemies” of the Netherlands. In all cases, it shows that there’s an ongoing effort to defend Dutch culture and land from this evil “other,” whether it’s water, refugees, or wolves.

2.3 "Wild"cam

In early January, I took the train to the Veluwe, hoping to get closer to wolf territory. Martin Drenthen is right in saying that, when living in a city, nature feels like a place to visit, though cities are just as much a part of nature as the woods.
   It was a beautiful winter’s day, the landscape covered in a thin layer of frost and the sun offering its soft warmth. As I walked, I hoped to spot a wild animal—a deer, a boar, maybe even a wolf. There’s a magical thrill in the fleeting moment of seeing a creature that is usually hidden away in its natural habitat. But that day, I saw nothing of the sort. Only birds and a herd of sheep waiting to be led to the meadow, but nothing that felt truly wild. What I did find, however, was a peculiar-looking box mounted hip-height to a tree, covered in camouflage print—a wildlife camera.

When I got home, I searched online to see if I could access that specific camera but instead found a 24/7 livestream of a quiet piece of land in the middle of De Hoge Veluwe. The scene was serene, yet empty of animals. Over the next few days, I kept the livestream open in my tabs, giving it an occasional inspection. Finally, my heart jumped as an elegant and thin figure had emerged near left side of my screen—it was a deer drinking from the pond. It felt as if I was there again, standing in the Veluwe, excited to see something wild. It made me wonder: could a wolf appear on my screen?
   Curious, I checked the park’s FAQ. Yes, on rare occasions, a wolf had been spotted on the livestream. But to my surprise, this was not something the park celebrated. 27 27.    “Wolf.” Het Nationale Park De Hoge Veluwe. Accessed 10 Jan, 2025. According to the park’s authorities, wolves pose a serious threat to mouflons, which play a key role in maintaining grazing balance. As I continued reading, I realized just how human controlled the park really was. I began to question the wildness of the animals I had hoped to see that day—and those now appearing on my screen. Watching this carefully managed landscape through a webcam—yet another tool for monitoring and controlling nature—I couldn’t help but wonder: how wild is this place, really? But one thing I knew for sure: the wolf did still feel wild to me.

While walking through the Veluwe during my trip, I reflected on how it felt knowing a wolf could be nearby. Of course, I have also grown up with scary fictional wolves in stories, and I’ll admit that those images still surfaced in my mind. But there was also a thrill in it. The idea that something in the forest could be dangerous, that nature could be stronger than humans, was exciting. It’s a sensation rarely found in the Netherlands nowadays.
   Interestingly, the wolves now living in De Hoge Veluwe are mainly there because pro-wolf activists cut holes in the park’s fences, allowing the wolves to pass through. Staring at the livestream, knowing all of this, I was reminded again of the complexity of the issue. Stories, rewilding, fences, wildlife cameras, wolves, sheep, farmers, city dwellers—each actor intertwining into an intricate web, endlessly influencing each other. The story of the wolf is never just one story.

Red Riding Hood's Basket

A crucial problem that lies at the heart of modernity, and that ties in with the Dutch cultural perception of nature, is treating non-humans as static, inert objects, easily shaped to fit our desires. It’s often overlooked that these species have their own unique lives, agencies, intelligences, and needs for well-being. Aside from that, it’s frequently forgotten that we are an integral part of nature, just like our cities and technologies. As James Bridle writes in their book Ways of Being:

“There is only nature, in all its eternal flowering, creating microprocessors and data centres and satellites just as it produced oceans, trees, magpies, oil, and us. Nature is imagination itself. Let us not re-imagine it, then, but begin to imagine anew, with nature as our co-conspirator: our partner, our comrade, and our guide.” 28 28.    Bridle, James. Ways of Being: Animals, Plants, Machines: The Search for a Planetary Intelligence. Allen Lane, 2022.
I want to continue with this idea of imagination. Throughout history, we have proven ourselves to be skilled practitioners of imagination, especially through storytelling. As seen in the previous chapter, stories have served to justify control over others. It’s time to change these narratives into more sustainable ones: stories that decentre humans and reinforce the fact that we are part of an interconnected web of life.
   As Little Red Riding Hood walks through the woods toward her grandmother’s house, she carries a woven basket filled with cake and wine. Along her journey, she adds a bouquet of wildflowers for her sick grandmother. The basket symbolizes care and relationality, it’s a container for provisions essential to life and relationships.
   In her essay The Carrier Bag Theory of Fiction, 29 29.    Le Guin, Ursula K. The Carrier Bag Theory of Fiction. Ignota Books, 2019. Ursula Le Guin challenges traditional narratives dominated by violence, heroes, linearity, and control, like the stories we often tell about wolves. Instead, she proposes that the first cultural tool was not a weapon but a container—a carrier bag like Red Riding Hood’s basket, used to gather, hold, and sustain life. Stories, Le Guin suggests, are like carrier bags: vessels that hold multiple voices, experiences, and interconnected threads. This theory offers a powerful framework for telling new stories about coexistence with wolves. Rather than focusing on fear and violence, like the terror that awaits Little Red Riding Hood upon arriving at her grandmother’s house, we could tell stories of reciprocal coexistence. These moments may seem less spectacular—like the countless times in history when wolves simply ignored or avoided humans during brief encounters 30 30.    Meijer, Eva. “De wolf is niet boos.” De Groene Amsterdammer, 23 Nov. 2022. —but they have the potential to rewrite the wolf’s vilified image. These stories can be complex, where each actor has its own voice, whether it’s the wolf, the farmer, the fence, or the wildcam.

Coexistence won’t be easy. It might feel similar to the dense and dark forest that Red Riding Hood has to make her way through. We will face losses and complications, as we already have. It will require effort from both humans and wolves. But by shifting our perspective, we might be able to see these challenges as natural parts of life, like wind and rain or sickness and death. 31 31.    Ibid. This is what feminist philosopher Donna Haraway calls staying with the trouble—embracing the messiness and complexity of interspecies relationships rather than seeking simplistic solutions. 32 32.    Haraway, Donna J. Staying With the Trouble: Making Kin in the Chthulucene. Duke UP, 2016. As connected to the wolf by Meijer, Eva, in “De wolf is niet boos,” De Groene Amsterdammer, 23 Nov. 2022 Her theory positions humans on an equal level with other animals, rejecting pseudo solutions like extermination, in favour of learning to live with the troubles of coexistence. If we keep the basket close to us while we make our way through the woods, constantly feeding it with new perspectives, it can be a source of understanding that carries us through this difficult journey.
   Dutch philosopher and writer Eva Meijer, who focuses on more-than-human voices, builds on Haraway’s concept by noting that we are already in conversation with the wolf—through fences and roads, through encounters, and even through our mere presence. As these interventions aren’t always convenient for wolves, thinking of roadkill and limited mobility between habitats, Meijer notes how wolves are already practitioners of staying with the trouble. Living in a densely human-populated country doesn’t make a wolf’s life easier, but still they chose to come back and settle here.

Where the wolf’s evil character was once based on bad human behavior, we could now take inspiration from the animal itself. Its indifference towards our questionable man-made boundaries and its ability to adapt to our interventions could serve as an example, helping us move beyond binary thinking and recognize adaptation as essential for interspecies coexistence. Such a perspective could be carried in Red Riding Hood’s basket. We must continue feeding it with new stories. To do this, we require imagination and, therefore, storytelling.

Conclusion

Writing this thesis felt like slowly but surely uncovering the story of the wolf ‘s return to The Netherlands. I never anticipated how layered and symbolically charged it would be. The result of my research reflects the kind of complex storytelling I advocate for in my final chapter. To conclude I would like to list my findings one final time.
   Before sheep became domesticated, wolves and humans coexisted without much conflict. Only when humans started seeing sheep as property did wolves become framed as thieves, resulting in their vilification in fiction and their real-life extermination across Europe. While early fictional wolves were based on bad behaving humans, and said nothing about the animal itself, these negative associations stuck to the species and helped create an enduring fear of wolves. Nowadays, this Little Red Riding Hood Syndrome is often used for the justification of killing wolves.
   On top of that, in the Netherlands, the wolf now holds a new symbolism. The Dutch have long viewed themselves as masters over nature and frame wild nature as their enemy in narratives like The Waterwolf. They prefer to keep wilderness separate from their cultural landscapes, but wolves don’t stick to these imagined boundaries, reminding us that nature is only welcome when convenient to humans. Reflecting on my own experiences from visiting De Veluwe and observing nature through a wildcam, I am reminded of how layered the wolf’s story is. These many perspectives may gather in Little Red Riding Hood’s basket, a carrier of new narratives and a different way of storytelling that might help us to stay with the trouble of coexistence with wolves.