How Anton de Kom made Leiden students dream of a new Suriname

The commemoration year for the history of slavery is coming to an end, the Dutch government’s apologies – criticized by some – have been made and after a much-needed catch-up, the colonial past is now more firmly on the map. At the same time, you often hear: ‘Do we have to talk about slavery again?’

Museum de Lakenhal answers that question affirmatively with the new exhibition I’m going to fight – Anton de Kom and The Surinamese Student Union. It shows why the Dutch history of colonialism, slavery and guest labor matters and how this history written from a Black perspective remained isolated for too long.

The key here is the work of the resistance fighter and writer Anton de Kom (1898-1945), who with his literary-historical essay We Slavs of Suriname (1934) analyzed these dark pages from the perspective of those who were oppressed.

De Kom clearly explained the consequences of the system, without simplifying the complexity of power structures. All Surinamese population groups were given a voice; De Kom saw the socio-economic power relations as an important factor for inequality.

The fact that he was labeled a ‘troublemaker’ and banished from Suriname by the Dutch government in the 1930s did not prevent De Kom from continuing to fight for freedom in the broadest sense of the word: as a right for everyone. After he stood up against fascism, Anton de Kom died in Camp Neuengamme in 1945.

Surinamese students

Although De Kom forms the basis of the exhibition in Museum De Lakenhal, I’m going to fight about the period after his death, when his work and life were forgotten.

In the 1960s and 1970s, Surinamese people with diverse backgrounds studied in Leiden. Against the backdrop of the world political battlefield – the Cold War, the Vietnam War – the Surinamese students developed a vision of the future of the mother country that was on the verge of independence. Rubia Zschuschen, member of the activist Surinamese Student Union (SSU), accidentally discovered De Kom’s manifesto in the Leiden Library in 1967. And recognized himself in the ideals he expressed.

The SSU tried to revive the manifesto and make it accessible to a wide readership. First, no bread was seen in a re-release. There was also uncertainty about copyrights at Uitgeverij Contact. The students then decided to make their own ‘robbery print’. The book was typed out page by page and multiplied and distributed using a mimeograph machine. The exhibition shows these prints, with covers that were illustrated by the students themselves. In addition, there are original manuscripts from De Kom, photos, pamphlets, a note from the Internal Security Service that found the political emancipation of Surinamese students threatening and newspaper articles about protests. The whole thing paints a strong picture of the days of the SSU.

Personal portraits

In addition to the material shown, two short films by Emma Lesuis tell more about the time of the SSU. These personal portraits really bring the exhibition to life. For example, Mohamed Daha (1944) describes how his membership brought about a personal change. “This organization made me want to do something for my country. It was fantastic that SSU members came from all layers and socio-cultural identities of Surinamese society. Everyone had their own way of thinking and acting and you learned to deal with that in the student houses.”

SSU member Paul Day (1940) explains how the idea arose to gain as much knowledge as possible in Leiden, go back and bring about a fundamental change in Suriname.

Many Surinamese-Dutch people saw the promised land in the Netherlands. At the same time, the Netherlands was also a deception for many uprooted Surinamese. Bea Vianen described that feeling in her novel Paradise of Orange (1973), in a scene at Schiphol: “The hall, just before the arrival of the hundreds of expected emigrant refugees from the tropical, picturesque homeland, gave food for thought. The showing-off of brand new, immaculate white lace-up boots, mini skirts, colored tights, dark sunglasses, weighty briefcases and gold jewelry was in full swing. This was the coveted glamour, the dream fulfilled in the Paradise of Orange. This was proof that where there is money, there is life. […] People wrote enthusiastic letters home and spared the Dutch.”

The exhibition represents that double feeling. On the one hand, the deception about the Netherlands that Vianen expresses. On the other hand, the combativeness of De Kom that made the Leiden students long for a renewed Suriname.

The exhibition, spread over two rooms, shows this duality in the bright colors of the portrait that Hedy Tjin made of Anton de Kom. It decorates the hall towards the stairwell of the De Lakenhal museum, which was the center of the textile industry in Leiden in ‘The Golden Age’. The visitor cannot ignore the portrait, but it is also isolated from the rest of the museum with the dark wooden rooms with sample books and portraits of Golden Age regents.

You would wish that De Kom and the students of that time would be a permanent part of the collection. The question: ‘do we have to talk about slavery again?’ would then naturally be embedded in the inseparable bond between the ‘Golden Age’, Anton de Kom and the realization that every society wants to fight for a better world.