People in between: the Matawai Maroons of Suriname

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17
A Tribal Society in Change

In the previous chapters our analyses of religion, demography and migration have pointed to the rapidity of social change. In this chapter we will focus on the implications of the nation state Suriname in Matawai tribal society.

The crisis of tribal societies in many parts of the world has been aptly described by Svensson:

The industrial world of the twentieth century appears to compel the extinction of the tribal world. The confrontation between tribal populations and expanding states has been a phenomenon of every age and every continent. It has now apparently come to the final crisis, for there is no longer a geographical periphery into which the tribal peoples can withdraw. Nor is there a psychological periphery. In this ideological self-conscious age, participation in the national mission is demanded of all citizens, and tribalism is seen as having no role to play (1978: 100).

The Bush Negro societies have been characterized in the past as culturally autonomous units or as ‘States within a State’, enabled to maintain a large degree of independence as a result of the isolated geographical locations of their villages.

Particularly during the last two decennia the Bush Negroes have become increasingly incorporated into the Surinamese society at large. It became acutely evident in the 1960s that they were no longer

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independent tribal entities when the construction of the Brokopondo lake in the Suriname river forced some thousands of Saramaka and Djuka to leave their original villages and resettle in the so-called transmigration villages north of the lake. The forced migration was a dramatic event in the lives of these people who lost much of their highly valued autonomy and independency. As a consequence of activities that were partly related to the dam construction and to a geological survey project of the interior of Suriname, Bush Negroes of all tribes started to work for government services. As a result of increased labour opportunities there has been a considerable flow of Bush Negro migrants to the coast.

Until recently the Surinamese government did not attempt to reduce the stream of migrants from the interior to the coastal area. It must be noted that in the last few decades the government has created a restricted number of facilities with the objective of improving living conditions in the tribal villages. Several villages were supplied with electricity, new schools were constructed, bridges were built over creeks, rice mills were introduced, ect. Near the most densely populated areas, medical clinics and air strips were constructed, which in turn facilitated communication between tribal villages and the coast. In addition, the number of village officials who were paid small salaries, was significantly increased^(1.). However, despite the colapse of the traditional economic occupations such as balata gathering and logging, the government has not attempted to provide new labour opportunities within the tribal areas. Consequently, the flow of Bush Negro migrants continued.

In 1974 the Ministry of District Affairs and Decentralisation (at present the Ministry of the Interior and the Districts) presented an initial draft of a project proposal for the development of the interior which seemed to deviate from the earlier politics. The plan was motivated by the urbanization problem (see p. 416). According to the authors, the flow of Bush Negroes to Paramaribo, was depicted as presenting a threat to the coastal society. The Bush Negroes were said to live in a vacuum of authority, and did not conform to the laws of the country. Worse still, they were held responsible for the increase of crime in town (Ontwikkelingsplan 1974: 1). The planners assumed that

(1.) In 1974 the number of functionaries in the Matawai area was, 1 gaaman, 18 village headmen, 36 male basia and 36 female basia.

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migration was caused primarily by the facilities which the city had to offer in contrast to the interior (labour opportunities, prospects for the future, education, pleasures, shops, drinking water, electricity and medical care). Thus the incentive to migrate would be reduced when life in the villages would become more attractive, after the introduction of these facilities. The proposal was to reduce the costs of supplying the these facilities in numerous small villages by concentrating the population in so-called development centres with populations of about 2000 people. In the planned six development centres, permanent agriculture would replace the system of shifting cultivation, necessitating the clearing of large fields of at least 1000 hectares.

In preparing this project the Ministry organized a number of meetings to provide the local population with more information and to become acquainted with the opinions of the villagers. In the following case we will give an account of the meeting which was held in 1974 in the village of Posugunu.

Shortly before the meeting was held, the gaaman of the Matawai had submitted the plans to the village headmen. He explained that all the people of the upriver region would have to move to a town that would be built near the present village of Posugunu. The village headmen met with little enthusiasm from the village councils. The general opinion of the people in the upriver area was well illustrated by Waido, one of the people with whom we discussed the project. ‘There are of course people who want the town but the majority of us do not. Where would I find a place to cultivate my garden when we will be with so many’? He also did not believe that people from various villages would live peacefully together. He pointed out that at the village council of Boslanti, they had decided that they would prefer to ask the minister for a road to their villages, so that men could find work. But if they had to move, Waido argued, he would prefer to go to a place closer to the city. ‘Who would buy your fishing here? Formerly we all lived together in the village of Toido, later we came down to settle in different villages along the

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Saramacca river. Now, it is not possible to reunite again, for who knows the reason for the dispersal. Only the ancestors know. If we would all gather in one village, this would provoke trouble’.
The next day we accompanied Waido to the large meeting with the bakaa. Shortly before the meeting began, the visitors assembled in the house of the gaaman to drink coffee. The minister explained that this would be his last visit before he returned with the minister president to settle the matter. He said that he felt inspired to initiate this development project for the Bush Negroes and compared himself with the Djuka prophet Akalali who had acquired a large amount of infuence among the Bush Negroes (see p. 201). In passing he mentioned the quantity of rum they had brought and informed them he would propose to make the rum from French Guiana, that was being smuggled in large quantities to Suriname, free from import duties. The visitors took their places under the raised house of the gaaman and from all directions people began to assemble. Some men carried bags of rice and bottles of beer and rum, which they placed on the floor uncovered as a visible gift from the guests. At last, the gaaman directed himself to one of his basia. ‘When I came back from town, I told you something. I informed you that the minister would come to give more details, therefore listen carefully’! The minister gave a long speech spiced with many odo (Bush Negro proverbs).
He introduced the other members of the delegation and stressed the multi-ethnic character of his companions. ‘The government has never paid much attention to the Bush Negroes’, he went on, ‘they have always concentrated on the town while the Bush Negro villages remained unchanged’. The government wanted to improve the situation in the interior and to provide increased labour opportunities. It was, however, impossible to construct waterworks for a village with 40 inhabitants or electricity for a village with 80 people or a secondary school for a village with 100 people, but if the villages would unite, all these facilities could be provided. The minister indicated on

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a map of the project the places where the facilities were planned and told how much money would be invested in the project. Did they not hear about Cruyff, who had received 8 million guilders playing football? Well, they would construct a large football field. They would install refrigerators as large as the room where they were sitting. He talked of the school, the city-like straight streets, the opening of new land, the sale of agricultural products and the transport of cash crops by airplanes. In Paramaribo they would train young Matawai men to become policemen and work in the new town. It was a long story and the Matawai were greatly impressed. The minister added that they had already presented the project in Langatabiki and Diitabiki where they had been met with enthusiasm. There had been more difficulties in Asindo opo, but finally the Saramaka had also agreed to the proposal. He was now interested in hearing the opinion of the Matawai because, as he said ‘Lanti (the people) is my boss’. In the course of the speech, he repeatedly referred to himself as pikin nenge (‘little boy’), suggesting that his experience and knowledge were limited. The Matawai went aside (nango a sé), a traditional council technique to reconsider certain matters in smaller groups, and the gaaman reminded them that upon his return from the coast, he had insisted that they give their opinion. The people of the other rivers, east, west and south had given their reaction and now it was their turn. He reiterated that never a beginning was made with the construction of the road they had been promised. A road was the first thing they desired. Afterwards they could take samples of soil to look for a place that would be most suitable for agricultural purposes. The minister's response was expressed with disappointment: ‘What lanti says, I have to accept, but you must not later regret your decision by saying that I gave more benefits to the Djuka when we start in their area’. One of the village headmen stood up to elaborate on the importance of a road for the Matawai. It would enable them to sell food products and would facilitate the supply of city

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goods. When the guesthouse had been built in Posugunu some years earlier, some 20 boats sunk with construction materials near the falls. This meant a loss for the government. The gaaman advised the Matawai to consider their response well and not to blame him afterwards. It remained noisy for awhile. The delegation busily calculated the length and cost of a road to the Matawai territory. After a lenghty consultation the minister informed them that such a road would be very expensive, surpassing the costs of his proposal. He would have to talk with prime minister Arron. He said that he had already been warned in Paramaribo that he would not find what he searched for among the Matawai. ‘But it is alright, I take it as it is’. Some of the people who had been clapping their hands after each phrase of the minister, clapped again. The female basia looked disapprovingly at each other and whispered: ‘You do not clap your hands for such words’. At that moment a member of the parliament who until then had restricted himself to clarifying, stood up and began presenting new arguments to try to break the impasse. Emphasizing his words with pronounced gesticulations, he pointed out that not not only would construction of the road cost more than the new town, but when the road was ready, it was likely that the ministers of a new government would oppose the project. At this point a new ‘aside’ was proposed. Some groups voiced the opinion that they should maintain their position. But there were also people who were about to give in. Back in the council, the district commissioner proposed to leave the matter aside for a while and to talk about the desires and grievances of the Matawai. The gaaman, however, insisted that the matter had to be discussed to reveal the results of the consultations during the ‘aside’. One of the men stood up and adressing himself to the minister said that they had not understood the plan and that they would leave the decision to the minister to do what was good for them. He continued: ‘U ke di foto’ (we do want to have the town). The gaaman was clearly surprised by the change of opinion and repeated: ‘I did not tell you

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what you had to decide, because I did not want to be blamed later’. One of the headcaptains added that they had always said that they would oppose the town, and that what had happened now was a great shame to the gaaman. Because of this division of opinion among the Matawai, the impasse remained. The Matawai of the upriver region began to journey home.
In the boat the discussion continued. Impressed by the council meeting, some of the women in the boat we travelled in began to fantasize about life in such a town. ‘The thing that I will buy’, Efi said, ‘is a dulopilo (mattres) and thereafter a gas stove’. ‘The men will find work’, Abonti added, ‘and we will eat rice only once a day. At supper we will eat bread and drink tea. The Ministry of Social Affairs will have an office there, like in Brownsweg (a transmigration village).
The straight streets of Brownsweg, if you consider it well, are beautiful’. A woman who was sitting at the rear of the boat was less happy with the idea, ‘pena, soso pena’ (poverty, only poverty), she complained. ‘When will they begin’, Abonti asked, ‘Maybe this year’? ‘Who gave Lisiat the right to speak’, the woman in the back of the boat asked. ‘He spoke for himself’, they replied. Days after the meeting, the plans of the government and the council in Posugunu remained the topic of lively discussions. The opinions put forward in these discussions among upriver villagers were quite similar and were reflected in detailed discussions we had with Waido. He argued that the minister had tried to coerce them and that the position of the Matawai was very weak in such matters. He had the idea that if they would reject the proposal, they would loose the good will of the government. According to Waido, Lisiat's independent initiative had been most improper. If they had changed their minds they should have first talked it over with the gaaman. The gaaman having heard only objections of the part of the Matawai had been astonished. Waido forecasted that the ‘town’ would never be built. ‘They are playing a policical game with us. It will be still three and a half years before the next elections are held. They will not be ready with the

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project in the Djuka area. The Djuka will have to vote for them to insure that the work will be finished. We should have asked them for the rights to our land. The Para Negroes have ownership of their land, but since the days of the plantations the Bush Negroes have never acquired the rights to their land. While we acquired the right to log, we still had to pay tax for each tree we felled. If they want us to leave for some reason, we simply have no rights’. Asking himself why they had proposed this plan at this moment, he suggested: ‘They know that we have always worked to produce food and since they have a shortage of rice in Paramaribo, we have to help them. The horticultural products that we cultivate here, are badly needed’. Later on he tried to imagine what choices they would have if the project would, in fact, be executed. ‘I would prefer to plant peanuts and bananas because they are more profitable than cassave. Most people will insist on cultivate gardens in the upstream area near the former villages. I would plant my ginger garden upstream, because I am afraid that otherwise they would steal from it. I am afraid that it will come to fighting and they will send one plane after another to put us in jail’.
The objections of Waido against the project, clearly demonstrating an attitude of distrust, were shared by many Matawai in the upriver area. Moreover, the people of the far most upriver villages feared that they would be dominated by the people of Posugunu in a concentrated settlement. Although some people had changed their opinion after the meeting with the minister, partly because the plans would provide them with work for a number of years, the majority of the people and especially the elders held firm in their opposition. One of the elders even promoted a return to the Tukumutu, where the runaways were originally kept hidden from the expeditions that were sent to search for them.

From this account it is clear that the relationship between the Bush Negro society and the government is not explicitly defined. The relative

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autonomy that was guaranteed in the peace treaties has crumbled in the course of time, as can been seen, for instance, from the oath the gaaman must sign upon accession to office. It is also evident that the government is well aware that little can be done without the agreement and support of the local population. A main problem in the intensification of the relation between tribal and coastal society is that the position of the tribal people remains undefined and unclear. We suggest that in the near future the competence of tribal and village councils has to be formalized in order to assure that the tribal population's fundamental rights are recognized.

We now return to the content of the development plan for the interior. The basic ideas of this plan were presented in a preliminary report in 1974 and elaborated in a few later versions. The major aim of the project was to concentrate the Bush Negro population in a restricted number of development centres, which would counter the urbanization trend by offering facilities and work opportunities. Simultaneously a solution would be provided for the problem of crime and unemployment in the coastal area; a problem that involved the Bush Negro migrants in particular. The introduction of a permanent form of agriculture - meant to replace what, was considered according to the planners, the inefficient system of shifting cultivation- would provide labour opportunities and thus make it possible to concentrate a larger population in a given area. The changes, that would be initiated by the plan, are closely interrelated. We summarize the most important developments below:

a)	dispersed villages	→	concentration of the population
b)	shifting cultivation	→	permanent agriculture
c)	subsistence economy and temporary wage labour	→	production for the market
d)	migration to the coast	→	return of migrants to the interior
e)	autonomy of the tribal population	→	participation in the nation state Suriname

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In addition to permanent agriculture, attempts would be made to introduce cattle breeding, while a small-scale agricultural industry would be developed. Basic to all these proposed developments are the transformation of shifting cultivation into permanent agriculture and the introduction of cash crops and products which could be used as cattle fodder. Both cattle breeding and the introduction of industry are dependent on agricultural production. It seems that the existing transmigration villages served as a model for the proposed population centre, in which each matri-segment or lineage would have its own street (see map, in Diepraam and van Westerloo 1974: 159). All the changes are aimed at an enlargement of scale which would, in an essential manner, transform these societies. One of the major goals was to break through the socio-economic isolation and to integrate the Bush Negroes into the Surinamese society.

The merit of the plan lies in the fact that it recognizes some of the problems of the tribal communities in Suriname. Indeed, if the process of migration continues at the same rate, the Matawai area will be completely depopulated within a period of 20 to 25 years. The consequences of such a development for the Bush Negroes and for Suriname are numerous. The choices that have to be made are dependent on the value attached to the Bush Negro culture as well as the degree to which the proposed alternatives function sufficiently well. It is apt to point here to the fact that while the proposal asserts that it is not intended to interfere with the authority of the gaaman and the cultural and religious life of the Bush Negroes, this is strikingly contradicted by the implicit purpose of the plan.

The major shortcoming of the plan is that it sacrifices a certain amount of necessary flexibility in favour of the ruling idea of concentration. As a result of the large number of uncertain factors flexibility is essential. Apart from the fact that cultural factors are consciously neglected, there are still other weaknesses in the plan.

No attention is paid to the problematic nature of the agricultural potential of the rainforests in South America. The prominent archeologist, Meggers, is of the opinion that the introduction of agriculture on a large scale in these areas will have disastrous consequences for the eco-system (Meggers 1971). These objections are shared by the

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anthropologist Van der Elst, who in a critique of the development plan emphasizes, among other points the following:

The plan invites ecological disaster. The homeland of the tribes is a climax rain forest. This means that flora and fauna are widely but thinly distributed, and that all life depends upon an exceedingly thin layer of fertile soil. This is among the most vulnerable of ecosystems, and as the experimence of the Amazonian farmers has shown, efficient modern agriculture is not possible without total dependence upon expensive artificial fertilizers. One simply cannot alter the natural balances very much without destroying the habitat.
The effects of heavy rainfall and other erosive agents are well known to conspire against man's efforts along such lines. Yet, incredibly, not only does the plan call for massive agricultural efforts, it actually proposes the introduction of sheep and goats, animals whose eating habits have turned far less sensitive ecozones than this into desert (1977: 14).

The plan's optimism concerning cattle breeding is also ill-founded. Masefield points out that tropical forest areas are far from favourable for cattle breeding and that cattle tend to remain small in size. Moreover, the chance that the cattle would be affected by disease and parasites is greater than in other areas (1974: 23). Furthermore, Bush Negroes have little experience in cattle breeding and the idea of raising pigs fills them with horror. Besides agriculture and cattle breeding a third economic sector is introduced, namely a small-scale agricultural industry. Although it is not clear what is meant by the term industry, it is likely that the costs of management and the upkeep of the technical installations in the interior will be quite high. Another factor that is neglected is the demographic composition of the present tribal population, the lack of men between the age of 20 and 40 in the tribal area is remarkable (see p. 433). Yet, if the ambitious plans have to be realized it is precisely this category of younger men that will be needed. As the plan has been insufficiently tested in terms of agricultural, ecological and economic criteria, the success of the project remains largely dependent on random factors. The outcome of a dead

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failure is inherent in the plan and it is likely that the only effect will be an acceleration of the exodus to the city. Our final point of objection to the plan concerns the primary goal of enlargement of scale. As Köbben has pointed out, new artificial political structures would have to be created and it is inevitable that this would give rise to serious conflicts with the consequence that people will tend to draw back from the villages to the garden camps, resulting in permanent settlement in these ‘more primitive’ dwellings (Köbben 1979: 176).

Our advice follows from the objections we have mentioned. We suggest that agricultural experiments in the neighbourhood of the existing villages be initiated. The recent exploratory work researching the possibilities of improving the system of shifting cultivation or introducing agro-forestry, can be a guide in this direction (see for instance Douglas 1973, Greenland 1975 and Grandstaff 1978). A number of experimental projects along these lines could be initiated under the shared responsibility of the Ministry of Agriculture (LVV) and the Ministry of the Interior and Districts with a large degree of local participation.

As a result of increasing participation in the total Surinamese society, the tribal populations have developed an awareness that they have certain rights. In discussions of the plans of the Surinamese government, Bush Negroes repeatedly expressed their desire to acquire the rights of ownership to their land. Although the peace treaties contain a statement about the right to live in the area above the falls (see, de Groot 1977: 11), the legal status of these treaties remains uncertain (see, Dew 1979: 194).

Shortly before the turn of the century a man called H. Beth sent a request to the Queen of the Netherlands to give land to a number of poor Creoles for agricultural purposes. He also pleaded to recognize the rights of the Bush Negroes to their land. The governor invited a number of people who had signed the request to explain the matter further. One of these people explained that the intention was to bring civilization to the Bush Negroes and Indians. The governor replied that no Bush Negro or Indian had ever come to the government to ask for land and that one must not trust it upon them. According to him they were fully entitled to cultivate gardens where, and as long as, they wanted.

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He added that it would be wrong to bring them to civilization, but that civilization had to be brought in the course of time to them^(2.).

The issue of landrights for the people of the interior has become actual through the development project West Suriname, when the legal positions of the Amerindian populations of Washabo and Apura turned out to be very weak. As a result of this project, a committee was established with the aim of serving the interests of the Bush Negroes and Indians concerning landrights^(3.).

Notwithstanding the attempts of the Surinamese government to develop the interior, it seems likely that the Bush Negroes will loose their cultural autonomy (see Lenoir 1975 for a case study of this process among the Paramaka). However, this does not imply that the process of incorporation will proceed without resistance from the Bush Negroes. We will briefly consider some of the relations with coastal institutions that are beginning to have an impact on Matawai society. A civil servant and a policeman, settled in the village of Kwakugoon, situated at the border of the Matawai territory, occasionally visit the Matawai villages. In conflicts, however, it is difficult to obtain the cooperation of the local population, who are strongly resistant to the intervention of the police in matters that are considered to be internal affairs. Formerly, communication with the coastal area was in hands of the medical mission, who warned the government in cases of conflict. Since 1974 the gaaman has, at his disposal, a radio transmitter, to communicate directly with the Ministry of the Interior.

There are several other indications that the relative isolation will be broken down. Nowadays, decisions that involve the tribal societies are often made in the coastal area. In the chapter on migration we have shown that social allowances to older people and single women, and the salaries paid to the local functionaries, contribute to a large part of the total monetary income in the village. In the future this contribution will become even larger with the addition of child allowances. Thus dependency on institutions outside the tribal area will further increase and the significance of traditional kinship obligations will concomitantly tend to become weaker. It is important to note that as a result of the migration of a majority of the younger

(2.) see LA GR 2128: March 16, 1898; LA GR 3837: March 20, 1898.

(3.) The declaration of Santigron
Today, 1st July, the day of Emancipation, have we representatives of the Committee for Landrights Washabo-Apura, the Regional Committee Lower-Maroni, the Organisation ‘Tangiba’ from Santigron, come together in Santigron to discuss the problems in relation to the emancipation of the Surinamese living in the interior, to whom we belong and whose mouthpiece we form.
We have considered:

+

that the claims in the interior on their living grounds are not recognized by the Government;

+

that the lands upon which our ancestors have fought and which we inherited from them, are sacred to us and belong to us by right;

+

that we can only develop ourselves IN OUR WAY, when these claims are recognized;

+

that we have several times appealed to the Government to arrange for recognition of our rights;

+

that on April 20, 1977, an Advisory Commission on land claims in the interior was established;

+

that this commission has never taken into account our rightful wishes and is about to submit an advice which is not based on the legal usage which is valid in our communities.

On the ground of these considerations, we have decided:

+

that we will resist this advice;

+

that we will appeal to organisations and individuals in our country and in the world for solidarity in our struggle.

And we demand from the Government of the Republic of Surinam:

1.

A legal arrangement which is in accordance with the legal usages in our communities;

2.

A ban on all activities which do not take into consideration the fundamental recognition of our rights;

3.

Support for all development activities which we ourselves want to undertake in our communities.

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lineage members, the position of many older people has become increasingly difficult, especially in the more isolated villages.

The Matawai have also become dependent on the medical services which have been introduced in the tribal area. The Medical Mission established two clinics in the 1960s; the clinic opposite of Posugunu is permanently occupied by a nurse, while the Njukonde clinic is visited once in a fortnight by a nurse or doctor. Although traditional cures remain important, the large number of visits made to the clinic indicate the significance of western medicine for the Matawai. In 1973 almost 5000 visits were registered at the clinic of Posugunu, with a total population of about 800 people upriver.

These days, the Matawai assert their rights in the field of education. Since people are increasingly dependent on a monetary income in the coastal area, the lack of adequate education has become more evident. During a visit of the governor to the Matawai area in 1974, he was confronted with the request of improved education. The Matawai argued that although now three new schools were built in the tribal area, during a large part of the year no lessons were held because the teachers did not want to stay upriver. They emphasized the necessity of standardizing the school system in the interior (the so-called ‘Bosland’ education) in accordance with the school system in town (primary education GLO). In the past it was the school teachers who complained about Matawai parents who were inclined to keep their children away from school during the peaks in the horticultural cycle. Now it is the parents who complain about teachers when they do not return to the school after the holidays, or if they return months after the school should have been reopened. During the last few years, some of the best pupils are selected by the teacher for secondary education in town, after finishing the village school.

Some months after the military coup of February 25, 1980 the gaaman were invited to meet the newly established government. At the meeting with the prime minister, he argued that previously the interior and the town were always considered as two separate entities, but that the new government would consider Suriname as one nation. Also the minister of the Interior and the Districts explained that it was the aim of the

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new government to involve the interior in the development process, not only by bringing electricity and water but also by the improvement of economic life by the stimulation of agricultural production. The minister asked the village headmen and basia to remain on their posts in the villages (De Ware Tijd May 24, 1980: 1, 12).