Trinta di Mei and the resistance against Dutch colonialism on Curaçao
Whilst the Black Lives Matter protests continue worldwide, there are also Caribbean protests for Black Lives from the past that we need to remember. Like on May 30th 1969 when black Curaçaoan Shell workers protested against the lower pay and lesser treatment they received, compared to their white Dutch counterparts. In this op-ed for Lilith, writer and poet Jermain Ostiana (native resident of Curaçao) tells us about the legacy of Dutch colonialism and the fight against it.
The revolutionary late sixties were about fighting for systemic change and it was not any different in the Caribbean. They ushered in a rude but necessary awakening for the heirs of white plantation owners. Stories told by the elders show how, on Curaçao, Dutch colonialism manifested itself as an unholy trinity: the Shell oil refinery, the Catholic Church, and the ruling white elite. Their systems of savage profit making - and the firm belief that Black people should not be treated as full human beings - created a climate in which people hungered to avenge the injustices of labor and race.
Our ancestors were rebelliously 'lit' centuries before the uprising on May 30th 1969. But on that specific day, the people of Curaçao let the whole world know that they were serious about leaving the inferno - they had been forced to live in - behind. On Trinta di Mei, workers and activists Papa Godett, Ewald Ong A Kwie, Stanley Brown, Amador Nita, Emmy Henriquez, and the fury of countless unsung warriors widened the pathway towards Black freedom by leading passives protests against their oppressors.
Last year's 50th anniversary should have been a moment to honor the spirits of Black Revolt with all kinds of creative uprisings. Sadly, the same power structures present then are still there today controlling the way people think and act on this island.
Modern colonization
The looting of financial wealth from Black citizens is still a structural problem on Curaçao. . Supermarkets are owned by the Portuguese, the bank sector is dominated by Sefardim Jews, mini-markets are the domain of the Chinese, jewelry and electronics shops are for the Sindi Indians, the Arabs run the furniture business. And the Dutch are living their best recolonization lives by profiting from Dutch tourism on the island through numerous hotels and resorts. They are omnipresent in real estate and large construction companies that suffocate Black inner city neighborhoods with Dutch gentrification, which contributes to the modern enslavement of the island and her citizens.
Recently, requests for financial aid from Aruba, Curaçao, and St. Martin to survive the calamities caused by the Covid-19 crisis has fed into the narrative that islands cannot handle autonomy and that they are milking the Dutch taxpayers for their money. On 12 july 2019 the Dutch government submitted a law stating that the country has financial supervisory instruction power over both St. Martin and Curacao.
The truth, however, is that The Netherlands has ransacked our state coffers for decades by denying us the financial reparatory justice money that we were promised in order to build strong, independent, self-sufficient island states. Ever since queen Wilhelmina signed the Kingdom Charter in 1954, they have been violating these legal principles. The Kingdom Charter gives the Netherlands the obligation to safeguard human rights and together with international decolonization rights anchored at the United Nations it has to facillitate all the finances and resources for Curaçao to become a fully self-governed sustainable island.
This is the systemic racial discrimination that prime minister Rutte only recently 'discovered' existed, after years of oppressing Curaçao and the other islands with genocidal policies.
True liberation
We are destined by design to fall into an illegal Dutch debt loan trap with clandestine financial colonized supervision, horrendous budget cuts, and consequently, societal decay. In real life, these budget cuts mean an immense expansion of educational, labor, gender, social economic and financial apartheid. A cry for downsizing the public apparatus is paradoxical, as we are supposed to shape self reliant institutions and citizens, those that can guarantee the permanent disappearance of Dutch interventionism.
For all of this to happen we need to heed the everlasting analysis of Black womanist, Afro-Curaçaoan writer, linguist, and independence activist Joceline Clemencia who successfully advocated for Papiamentu to become an official language: "We have not studied our (Dutch) rulers well enough, otherwise we would have known that we were programmed to think that we are not programmed: That if we looked the other way long enough and denied the existence of colonialism it would automatically disappear. We forgot that we were trained not to see colonialism as colonialism."
We have no other option than to pick up that torch our foremothers left us and honor them by standing up against institutionalized Dutch colonial racism once again. "Bread and respect, kill the Dutch" are battle chants from Trinta di Mei still metaphorically echoing through my head and that of many others who have been and seen suffering under white colonialism up-close.
Afro-Bonairian writer Alfrida Martis gives us some holistic advice on how to combat colonial powers as well. "[B]y asking yourself what you can do to connect to your ancestors’ revolutionary spirits (literally) and continue our fight for freedom. The path will look different for everybody but we must all aim for liberation. No ‘equal rights’ bs, but true liberation."
Also read: Geen Zwarte Piet en Sinterklaas meer op Curaçao en Waarom Kick Out Zwarte Piet nu ook actie op Curaçao voert
Photo: National Archive Curaçao and the Black Archives