Dear Editor,
Given the excitement over the use of “One Guyana” slogan, I wonder what has become of Guyana’s British and Dutch descendants? Have they vanished into the misty banks of the Demerara River, or perhaps taken a secret passage back to Europe, leaving behind only a few colonial-era street names and the occasional mysterious accent?
Once upon a time, the Dutch and British ruled these lands, carving out estates, importing slaves, and setting up structures that still shape our governance today. But now, if one were to search for their descendants, one might find only ghosts in old plantation records and a handful of names in the ‘Other’ category of the census. According to estimates, those of British descent now number a mere 2,400—just 0.3% of the population. As for the Dutch? Well, no one seems to have a solid count, as though they vanished without a trace.
Yet, if one listens closely, echoes of their presence remain. Surnames such as D’Aguiar, Collins, Barker, Abbott, and Morgan still linger, whispered through family trees. On the Dutch side, names like Van Sluytman, Ten-Pow, De Weever, and De Groot hint at an ancestry that once held dominion over these lands. And yet, their stories are often overlooked, their contributions quietly folded into the larger narrative of Guyana’s past.
One only needs to look at New Amsterdam, Essequibo, Berbice, and parts of Georgetown to find remnants of Dutch influence. Many of the country’s irrigation systems, sea defenses, and early settlements were their handiwork. The British, on the other hand, expanded these systems, introduced English as the official language, and established major settlements in Georgetown, Bartica, and along the coastal regions where sugar estates once thrived. Yet, despite their physical and structural contributions, their descendants seem to have melted into the background, barely acknowledged in national discussions.
And here’s the bigger question: Who is advocating for them? In the grand discourse of One Guyana, which leaders, historians, or institutions are ensuring that the British- and Dutch-descended populations are recognized as part of the national fabric? While Indo-Guyanese and Afro-Guyanese groups have strong cultural organizations, political representatives, and advocacy, there seems to be little—if any—concerted effort to highlight or preserve the legacy of these European-descended communities. The Portuguese-Guyanese have long fought to maintain their history, yet for the British- and Dutch-descended, no such advocacy exists. Have their voices simply faded, drowned out by the larger ethnic narratives?
It is ironic, then, that in the age of One Guyana, a slogan meant to unify, certain groups seem to have faded into historical obscurity. Is One Guyana truly for all, or just for those whose numbers are significant enough to matter? Have we, in our zeal for unity, forgotten that the country was shaped not just by two dominant ethnic groups, but by a patchwork of histories, including those whose presence today is little more than a footnote? I recommend as a replacement of the controversial Grade 3 Social Studies textbook, ‘Guyanese in the World’, which was removed, with one that provides a more inclusive and factual account of Guyana’s ethnic history. If we are to be One Guyana, then we must teach the next generation that the nation was built by many hands—some remembered, some forgotten, but all deserving of recognition.
Sincerely,
Keith Bernard
