On 15 April 1942, members of the Dutch military police on Curaçao shot and killed fifteen Chinese Shell workers. Assistant Professor Vincent Chang has been awarded an NWO XS grant to investigate how this happened and why these Chinese seamen are now being commemorated again after decades of being forgotten.
In 1942, with both the Netherlands and the Dutch East Indies under occupation and the government having fled to London, the Netherlands' position on the world stage was precarious. 'The only direct contribution the Netherlands could make to the Allied cause was bauxite from Suriname, oil refined into fuel on Curaçao and Aruba, and a sizeable fleet of merchant ships to transport these raw materials,' Chang summed up the situation.
Crucial role
During the war, an estimated 1,500 Chinese labourers played a crucial role on Dutch ships. 'They carried out the heaviest work in the most dangerous parts of the ships,' says Chang. 'From poorly ventilated storage bunkers, they continuously supplied coal to the hot engine room, where they had to throw it onto the fires to generate steam. An exhausting task, which, according to the Dutch ship's officers, could really only be entrusted to Chinese crew members.'
During the war, at least 540 Chinese people lost their lives on Dutch merchant ships as a result of acts of war, accidents or illness. Despite their crucial role in Allied transport operations and the Netherlands' alliance with China, Chinese labourers were systematically marginalised. Chang: 'They were not allowed to go ashore on Curaçao, and when several ships in the region were sunk by torpedo attacks from German U-boats, they were excluded from receiving a war bonus.'
Strike with fatal consequences
In April 1942, this unequal treatment led the Chinese seamen to walk out, preventing the oil tankers - so vital to the British and American air forces - from setting sail. The four hundred Chinese seamen were interned in a camp run by the Curaçao Petroleum Company. 'After negotiations failed, the colonial authorities opted for an armed show of force,' says Chang. 'With the help of the military police, the administration attempted to separate the instigators from the rest of the group, in the hope of quelling the strike.'
The opposite happened. 'We don't know exactly how, but suddenly a riot broke out and at least twelve Chinese people were shot dead on the spot,' says Chang. 'Many others were injured, and a few died later in hospital.' Early the next morning, the victims were buried secretly in a mass grave in an unconsecrated cemetery for people on the margins of society. Chang: 'The Chinese on the island were not informed and were given no chance to say their farewells.'
Commemoration?
The incident was given no place in the public memory of the Second World War - not in the Netherlands, not on Curaçao, nor in China. 'You might think that the Chinese community keeps the memory of this event alive,' says Chang. 'Instead, it is a group of intellectuals, trade union leaders, activists and artists who, since 2002, have been working to commemorate what they call the "April Murders", as a means of denouncing the Dutch colonial past and drawing attention to marginalisation and discrimination.'
Thanks to their years of hard work, the cemetery has been restored, a monument now stands on the site of the former camp, and the event is gradually being incorporated into commemorations. 'It's still a bit half-hearted, though,' says Chang. 'It was only this year that a pilot scheme was launched to include the subject in the Curaçao education curriculum, where it is overshadowed by the history of slavery. Previously, the Dutch government made a gesture towards the Chinese community, but no follow-up has materialised and the story is completely absent from the commemorations around 4 and 5 May. The Chinese state, for its part, is reluctant to publicise this history due to sensitivities surrounding the commemoration, although interest among historians in China is growing.'
Direct contributions
Chang aims to reconstruct the consequences of the tragic incident by drawing on research in Curaçaoan, Dutch and Chinese archives. The broader question is how societies and communities remember, commemorate and forget. 'At the same time, the line between observing and participating is sometimes a fine one when researching the culture of remembrance,' he adds. 'Speaking or writing about events of this kind has a direct impact on the public's memory of them.' Chang regularly holds conversations with the relatives of Chinese people who worked on Dutch ships. 'Recently, I was able to help someone with information about his father, whom, to his regret, he had never been able to ask himself. It's wonderful to be able to ease that sense of loss in some small way.'
