Lyceum & Book Club - Week 16 - Lecture Notes on Attitudes Today in the Netherlands
- Mar 31, 2022
- 10 min read
BETWEEN PRIDE AND APOLOGIES, THE DUTCH ARE NOT YET
READY TO REPAIR
“First the Dutch state tried to say we were too late, but when the court rejected that argument, they started to contest all the facts we presented,” she recalls. As the cases – because there were dozens of colonial crimes cases filed – dragged through the court system, the public debate around them began to change. “The cases were kind of the starting point,” for a change in public perception, Zegveld says, which had a knock-on effect on the attitude of the Dutch state which stopped “contesting every little detail”.
Opinion polls though suggest that changing attitudes is an uphill battle. A 2020 YouGov poll showed that “The Dutch are most proud of their former empire, even more than the British”.
“Half of Dutch people say the old empire – of which Indonesia and part of South Africa were the most significant territories – is something to be more proud of than ashamed of, with another 37% saying they are neither proud nor ashamed. Only 6% believe the empire is something to be more ashamed of than proud”.
It has taken a long time for the Netherlands to face the possible downsides of colonialism, she says. “We are a country with a national identity based on the idea that we are very tolerant and very open,” she explains. “At the same time, we do not want to acknowledge there is racism and there is structural inequity.”
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Whitewashed Slavery Past? The (Lost) Struggle Against Ignorance about the Dutch Slavery History
That history (of Dutch slavery), although discussed infrequently among the Dutch public today, was provocatively highlighted in a newspaper article several years ago, in which Kenneth Renfrum of the Amsterdam Center for the 30th of June and the 1st of July (Stichting Amsterdams Centrum 30 juni–1 juli) referred to legendary soccer players such as Edgar Davids, Frank Rijkaard, and Patrick Kluivert as “slave sons.” Renfrum used the phrase to remind white Dutch society where these players came from. Such a blunt reference to slavery is far from the norm, however, and Dutch society, particularly white Dutch society, remains noticeably quiet on the issue. When asked about the nationality of several famous black Dutch soccer players in an interview, for instance, a white Dutch man in his twenties stated that the black players were not Dutch, but instead “Dutch-Surinamese.” He told us that he didn’t want them to use the word “Dutch” for their identity, even though they were “good soccer players.”
A similar whitewashing of the Dutch slavery history occurs in discussions about the Dutch Royal Family’s Golden Carriage. The carriage, originally a gift from Amsterdam to the then-reigning monarch Queen Wilhelmina in 1898, is built of gilded wood and painted with depictions of the “allegories of praise.” One of these allegories, “praise to the colonies,” consists of images of slaves bestowing gifts upon the colonizers. Interestingly, the carriage was given to Queen Wilhelmina more than 35 years after The Netherlands abolished slavery in 1863, yet it depicts black people only as slaves and not as full citizens of the country’s colonies. Possibly of greater consequence in the carriage debate, however, is the fact that the Royal Family continues to use the Golden Carriage today despite public debate and criticism that the slave imagery is racist. Similarly, almost all of the white Amsterdammers we interviewed agreed that the Royal Family should be able to continue using the carriage regardless of the images. Most interviewees saw it as a historical artifact that could not be judged by today’s moral standards but instead should be understood as a product of history. One middle-aged white woman expressed shock at the idea of removing the images from the carriage, stating that the paintings are “beautiful; they are real art and you don’t destroy art simply because it celebrates something you’re now ashamed of.”
(Note - this is the same population that downplays the destruction of artwork in Catholic Churches, something they personally found offensive at the time.)
Criticisms of the carriage as racist or colonialist are often dismissed as an overreaction. But the carriage is just one of many seemingly innocuous yet pervasive depictions of slavery in The Netherlands today. Dr. Dienke Hondius, a history professor and researcher at the Free University of Amsterdam, explains that one of the main reasons for the persistent lack of knowledge about the Dutch slavery past among the public is that “slavery is seen as something that happened overseas…far away and is thus not of personal concern.” Efforts to break this silence and bring the slavery history to the forefront of the public’s consciousness have been made by various actors, but many of these groups have faced, and continue to face, significant challenges.
The National Institute for the Study of Dutch Slavery and its Legacy (NiNsee), a research and educational center established in 2002, is one of the main actors working to strengthen the country’s discourse on racism, slavery, and post-colonialism. However, NiNsee is currently under fierce threat of being silenced. Earlier this year the Dutch government announced funding cuts that will reduce NiNsee’s budget by 90 percent, effectively closing the organization.
What does it mean that the only organization in The Netherlands working to document, research, and educate people about the Dutch slavery past is closing down just one year short of the 150th anniversary of the abolition of slavery, and merely 10 years after the institute’s inauguration? And what does this mean for the future of the Dutch slavery monument, the annual slavery commemoration festival in Amsterdam, and similar historical memory efforts?
Revenue from the goods produced with slave labor funded much of The Netherlands’ Golden Age in the 17th century, a period renowned for its artistic, literary, scientific, and philosophical achievements. Yet the direct and indirect links between that lauded epoch and the concurrent use of slavery in Dutch colonies are rarely discussed. While profits made from coffee, sugar, wheat, and other goods helped to fund the creation of Amsterdam’s beautiful and famous canals and city center, there is little representation of that past in the city today, apart from a few plaques that mark the houses of former slave owners.
The lack of visual representation of the Dutch slavery past in conjunction with the lack of adequate education on the topic in Dutch schools results in limited awareness and interest in the issue among a majority of Dutch people today. For instance, Balai’s research into the fate of slaves aboard the ship De Leusden highlights a tragic event and huge loss of life of which few Dutch people are aware.
Following the abolition of slavery by The Netherlands in 1863, many former slaves and their descendants came to Amsterdam in search of better opportunities. This process accelerated following the independence of Suriname in 1975, after which a large influx of post-colonial migrants moved to The Netherlands. Many Antillean and Aruban migrants also came for academic opportunities.
In spite of the presence of a black community in The Netherlands for the past four centuries, however, racism, discrimination, and a whitewashing of the country’s slavery past persist to this day. As Dr. Hondius notes, “racism, discrimination, and inequality are a direct consequence of what happened during slavery, but no one dares to make that connection or to talk about it.”
Dr. Artwell Cain, director of NiNsee, notes that the lack of a post-colonial discourse and consciousness in The Netherlands inhibits recognition of the Dutch slavery past.
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Why is such an important monument, which claims to depict a “shared past, common future,” located in a park that is far from the city center of Amsterdam? Similarly, one might ask why NiNsee, located in a building next to the monument, is not in a location with a stronger historical link to the Dutch slavery past, such as a former slave owner’s house in the city center. According to John Leerdam, former politician and active participant in the Dutch black community, people agreed to the Oosterpark location because they were afraid it was the only way to have a slavery monument. Leerdam argues, however, that to be significant “the monument must be in a prominent place where people can see it.”
However, it is unclear whether such a strong visual connection to the Dutch slavery past would be accepted or welcomed in a more central location in Amsterdam. One young man we spoke with stated that slavery and racism belong to previous generations, but not to the present day. Beyond arguing that slavery is a relic of the past, others we interviewed were quick to note that “all of Europe is to blame, and the Dutch were only minor players” in the slave trade. By taking the attention off of the Dutch and putting blame on all of Europe, or by relegating slavery to a distant chapter of history, the Dutch public fails to draw connections between its own slavery past and present day racism and inequality.
One young man we interviewed failed to see the point of historical memory initiatives and argued that black people should “just get over it.” While his words are not likely representative of all Amsterdammers, they are emblematic of a recurring sentiment that commemoration of the slavery past is either something that is already complete or that is exclusively a matter for the black community.
Many white Dutch people do not see their own role in the history of slavery, hampering efforts by groups such as NiNsee to increase awareness. Dr. Cain, the director of NiNsee, notes that denial surrounding the Dutch slavery history is pervasive among both white and black people. In The Netherlands, he argues, people don’t use the word “race,” but instead speak of “ethnicity.” Without the word “race,” you can’t have racism, making “Holland the only country in the world without racism,” notes Dr. Cain with irony.
Many Amsterdammers are reluctant to acknowledge the existence of discrimination against black people. For instance, one middle-aged white woman we interviewed avoided discussing discrimination based on race, highlighting instead that women are still discriminated against even though they had their emancipation movement decades ago.
“Commemorating slavery is important as a matter of responsibility,” says Quincy Gario, activist and founder of the “Black Piet is Racism” movement.
In discussing the Dutch slavery past, Dr. Cain brings up what he calls the “three D’s”: denial, demands, and distance.
Denial typifies how the white Dutch community looks at the slavery history. Ignorance of the past coupled with a lack of interest leads to this group’s generally harsh and often racist views towards the Dutch black community.
Demands for justice, reparations, remembrance, and acknowledgement of the past characterize the Dutch Surinamese population. The descendants of Surinamese slaves identify strongly with their past and work diligently to promote awareness in The Netherlands in order to achieve greater acknowledgement from the white Dutch community about the role their ancestors played in the shared slavery history.
Lastly, Cain identifies Dutch Antilleans with a preference for distance from the slavery past. Dutch Antilleans often identify not as black but as “Dark White and mixed with Jews, Latin Americans, Portuguese and many others” (Cain, 2012). Such a position is often driven by shame and the desire not to be related to a group that has been historically oppressed. In considering how to reconcile the “three D’s,” Dr. Cain argues that we must “learn how to unlearn in order to re-learn.”
The difference between demanding and distancing highlights a lack of cohesion within the black Dutch community that can be detrimental to efforts for greater recognition of the slavery legacy.
Without a post-colonial discourse and informed historical
background, white Dutch people are often ignorant of why they have Surinamese, African, and/or Antillean neighbors in The Netherlands. They often perceive black people as poorly educated and reluctant to work, as if they have come to The Netherlands to feed off of its wealth. Few know of the historical labor relations between their own ancestors and those of the black community in producing this wealth.
Commemoration of the slavery past is overwhelmingly perceived as an issue of the black community. The invisibility of race and the Dutch slavery past is because the Dutch black community “lacks a power structure” through which to bring these issues to the forefront of a mainstream agenda (Hondius, 2012).
While black people are present in Dutch society, they have limited economic power. While other minorities, such as Turkish, Moroccan, and Chinese migrants, own shops and take part in commerce, many black Dutch people are excluded from these activities. While undertaking his dissertation research on the social mobility of migrants in The Netherlands, Dr. Cain found that there were almost no black people in positions of power in health care, the arts, or government. He concluded that a lack of economic power among black people leads to a lack of political power. Without political power, it is much harder for the black community to put matters such as race, class, and the slavery legacy on the political agenda.
The establishment of NiNsee in 2002 was seen by many in the black Dutch community as a step toward breaking the silence. Its closing in 2012—only 10 years later—is a bitter topic, as it seems that the organization has only just started to “scratch the surface of the invisibility and ignorance regarding the slavery history” (Cain, 2012). Leerdam informed advisers working on budget cuts in the Ministry of Education, Culture, and Science (which funds NiNsee) about the impact of its closing on the eve of the anniversary, and noted that the advisers were previously unaware of the poor timing. The ignorance and insensitivity of these policymakers is emblematic of the longstanding whitewashing of the country’s slavery past.
Leerdam advocates that the white community as well as the black community in The Netherlands “must come to terms with themselves.” In particular, the black community must form a solid front to let their voices be heard. The current lack of solidarity can be traced back to practices used during slavery to pit different groups and individuals against one another and undermine black resistance.
The efforts to commemorate slavery that seemed promising only ten years ago—including the establishment of NiNsee, the unveiling of the slavery monument, and the formal recognition of the Keti Koti festival—seem in retrospect more of an effort to appease the black community and deter further demands for recognition. Instead of opening a dialogue on the issue, the 2002 commemoration initiatives seem to have contributed to the idea that slavery is now a closed chapter in Dutch history.
When asked about Dutch soccer players of Surinamese descent, for instance, one young Amsterdammer angrily recounted how the junior national Dutch soccer team displayed a Surinamese flag following their victory at the Euro championship several years ago. The interviewee referred to the players’ actions with a scowl, saying: “That’s not OK. That’s not Dutch. They’re not Dutch.”
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A popular podcast in the Netherlands is showing the Dutch how to face their country's colonial and slave-trading past as lawmakers push for a national apology and reparations.
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