By Nigel Westmaas
Nigel Westmaas is Chair of Africana Studies at Hamilton College, New York, and was a former WPA executive member. He delivered the keynote address at the University of Guyana symposium on August 18th, ‘Honouring our Ancestors’ Sacrifices and Extraordinary Achievements.’ On Sunday August 20th, the University of Guyana hosted another commemorative event at Parbamel Community Centre in Bachelor’s Adventure, featuring a lecture by historian Shammane Joseph Jackson, ‘The Battle of Bachelor’s Adventure.’
The importance of the 1823 insurrection that occurred 200 years this month, cannot be overstated. This event, primarily concentrated along the eastern coast of Guyana, was nestled between two other profound “Caricom” enslaved uprisings: the 1816 Barbados (Bussa) rebellion and the 1831 Jamaican (Sam Sharpe) insurrection. Together, these revolts collectively eroded the political, economic, and moral foundations of the British imperial plantation system, and by extension, the global institution of chattel slavery.
The interconnected themes at the heart of the 1823 rebellion are staggering: the intricate dynamics of labor within the sugar regime; the unspeakable cruelty endured on the estates; the pervasive influence of religion; the humanitarian shockwaves reaching England; the fortitude and alliances of the maroons with the uprising; inquiries into the planning of the revolt; the often unacknowledged role of women; and, significantly, the enduring resonance of 1823 within the broader discourse on reparations.
Within this broader context, the 1823 uprising emerges as an unexpected occurrence. Throughout the Caribbean and the Americas, resistance among the enslaved was endemic and widespread. Guyana itself witnessed other revolts, including the lesser-known 1763 rebellion, as well as uprisings in 1807, 1813, and 1814 (Berbice), among other smaller uprisings.
Emilia Viotti da Costa’s seminal work, “Crowns of Glory, Tears of Blood,” stands as the most comprehensive account of the revolt to date, offering unparalleled insights into the contextual backdrop, assessment, and intricate details of the event. Particularly significant is da Costa’s emphasis on the agency of the enslaved population, challenging the notion of historical determinism or the reduction of individuals to mere pawns within historical processes. Recent research by historian David Alston further disrupts previous assumptions about the scale and impact of maroon communities in Guyana, illuminating their substantial resistance from the significant maroon movement in 1795 to the official end of slavery in 1834.
According to Alston, maroon communities exceeded prior estimations in size, resilience, and endurance. An astonishing statistic underscores the magnitude of their presence: one European officer cited by Alston “estimated that the rice already destroyed had been enough to support 700 enslaved people for a year.”
By 1811, discontent had culminated in a meeting of planters alarmed by the looming threat of “ruin.” This climate was further shaped by the 1814 Convention in London, following Napoleon Bonaparte’s defeat, which finalized the transition of Demerara, Essequibo, and Berbice into British territories, laying the foundation for the formation of British Guiana in 1831.
Yet, the origins of 1823 must trace back to the very heart of Guyana’s reprehensible history of slavery. The horrors of capture, the wrenching displacement from Africa, the systematic degradation of black lives, daily violence, inhumane punishments, family separations, sexual abuse, and the dehumanizing denial of basic rights were intrinsic to Guyana’s landscape and echoed throughout the Americas and the Caribbean. This unrelenting nightmare sparked continuous resistance against the system.
The ripples of enslaved rebellions reverberated across the global capitalist system, destabilizing colonies reliant on forced labor, triggering economic turbulence, and sowing uncertainty. In Guyana, the exacerbation of labor conditions, particularly in sugar production, acted as a catalyst for the uprising.
Leading up to the revolt, restrictions on enslaved people’s access to chapels by the Governor heightened tensions, contributing to the timing and intensity of the rebellion. The revolt also arose within the context of the labor regime and the political notion of “freedom” promulgated in England. Scholar Christian Høgsbjerg has aptly coined it “collective bargaining by slave revolt.”
Religion’s role in the uprising is nuanced. While Reverend John Smith and the London Missionary Society have been depicted as “originators” of the rebellion, it is imperative to shift the focus to the actions of the enslaved. Religion undeniably played a pivotal role, yet it was strategically and selectively employed by the enslaved, using Biblical texts subversively. This history from below shatters the narrative of Smith’s leadership, reinstating the agency of the enslaved and dispelling the notion of a white leader overseeing an allegedly ignorant enslaved populace.
As the uprising unfolded on August 18, 1823, thousands of enslaved individuals in Guyana sought to dismantle the plantation slavery system entrenched for centuries. The revolt was characterized by organization, strong leadership, and strategic maneuvers. Da Costa eloquently captures the initial spark in a memorable passage in the book:
“The rebellion started at Success and quickly spread to neighbouring plantations. Beginning around six in the evening, the sound of shell-horns and drums, and continuing through the night, nine to twelve thousand slaves from about sixty East Coast plantations surrounded the main houses, put overseers and managers in the stocks, and seized their arms and ammunition. When they met resistance they used force. Years of frustration and repression were suddenly released. For a short time slaves turned the world upside down. Slaves became masters and masters slaves.”
Da Costa’s comment about “years of frustration leading to release” reminds one of Lenin’s famous political statement: “Decades pass and nothing happens, then weeks pass and decades happen.”
The insurrection’s trajectory mirrored patterns seen elsewhere in the Americas: swift attacks on plantations; confiscation of weapons; detainment of overseers and owners. Inspired by figures like master carpenter and Deacon Quamina, and his towering son Jack Gladstone, the uprising was months in the making. Their whispers of freedom resonated with imperial events, lending purpose to their revolt.
Intriguingly, the leadership also entailed specific tactics. The enslaved from Rome and Peter’s Hall were designated to alert the maroons about the impending revolt. Each plantation had a designated leader to rally the enslaved at the appointed hour, encompassing artisans, boatmen, field laborers, teachers, and house servants. Guyana, unlike North America, had an overwhelmingly black population, granting a degree of nocturnal movement without immediate detection.
The conflict between the enslaved and the colonial state raged for days. The tide shifted at the massacre of Batchelor’s Adventure, perpetrated by British troops, quelling the rebellion’s momentum. The actions of Colonel Leahy, reminiscent of subsequent repressive forces, led to the death of over 200 enslaved individuals at that site alone.
Quamina, a central figure, was marginalized and ultimately killed by an Amerindian militia expedition in September 1823. His body became a macabre warning, suspended between trees with chains. Jack Gladstone evaded capture until a standoff in early September, when he and his wife were apprehended at Chateau Margo. Gladstone escaped execution, and was allegedly deported to St. Lucia after his trial.
How should the Guyanese nation commemorate the momentous event of the 1823 Demerara revolt, 200 years later? And in what ways does it matter for Guyanese given the apparent widespread lassitude on matters of history in present day Guyana?
Certainly, there are a multitude of compelling reasons that underscore the significance of recognizing and commemorating the pivotal event of the 1823 Demerara revolt.
Foremost among these reasons is the event’s role as a poignant reminder of the enduring intergenerational trauma that the African Guyanese community has borne as a direct consequence of the harrowing experiences of colonialism and slavery. This trauma has reverberated across generations, leaving an indelible mark on both individuals and entire communities in the global systemic – economic and social framework, necessitating a sincere acknowledgment and a deliberate effort towards redress.
However, challenges remain to be addressed. At the symposium last week hosted by the University of Guyana, University of Guyana historian Cecilia McAlmont shared a rather disheartening experience from her attempt to canvass door-to-door along Quamina Street. Her goal was to gauge citizens’ awareness of the street’s historical significance and the revolt that transpired there two centuries ago. Regrettably, the responses highlighted a striking lack of historical consciousness surrounding the event.
This lack of historical consciousness about enslaved slave rebellions in Guyana and elsewhere can be attributed to a confluence of factors that have obscured their significance over time. Firstly, colonial powers actively suppressed and censored information about these rebellions to maintain control and quell any potential uprisings. The deliberate erasure of such narratives from official records and historical accounts has contributed to the loss of crucial information. Additionally, the prevailing power of Eurocentric perspectives in historical education has often overshadowed the experiences and contributions of marginalized groups, relegating enslaved rebellions to the periphery of historical discourse.
But more importantly, society’s energies are perhaps immersed in the economic and social difficulties of everyday living. Yet, paradoxically, it is precisely an understanding of our distant and recent past that has the potential to instill a sense of purpose in the present. A poignant example lies in the year 1823, a pivotal moment when the enslaved individuals of that era seized control of their destinies. This historical instance serves as a lesson for the contemporary world, reminding us of the significance we must not overlook.