How the Tropenmuseum pushed me to think critically of the Netherlands
A few classmates and I arrived at the Tropenmuseum, aka the “Tropics Museum,” last Monday around half past noon. We walked into the unassuming entrance on the ground floor, as the tall security guard welcomed us in. A circular reception desk stood just a few paces ahead of us, and the receptionist politely asked that we wait for the rest of our classmates on the right side, near the bag lockers. The entire room was painted a clean white, giving the space a sanitary sheen.
It didn’t take long for the rest of our class to arrive, at which point we were split into two groups, then led upstairs by one of the tour guides. Only toward the end of the staircase did I realize the sheer scale of the museum. A cavernous room — perhaps thrice the size of a high school gymnasium — unfurled in front of me. The lighting was markedly darker than its downstairs counterpart, and the white sheen of downstairs was replaced by the warm brown of stone and the deep blue of the overhead lights that illuminated the ceiling.
An ugly truth lies behind the grandiosity of the whole room, though. As the name of the museum alludes to, the Tropen (“Tropics”) museum is a product of the Netherlands’ colonial past. As the Dutch plundered from its holdings across the globe, be it Indonesia, South Africa, Suriname, Curacao, Sri Lanka, among others, they showcased cultural artifacts at the Tropenmuseum. In other words, the Tropenmuseum existed solely thanks to the violent and lucrative business of colonialism.
Thankfully, the museum has pivoted its mission since, focusing on its colonial legacy and its effects on both the colonized people of the past and those who are affected by it to this day.
This pivot has only come about as of recent, though. It was only within a couple years ago that thousands of looted objects from Indonesia were finally repatriated, and the museum owns human remains of colonized people and many cultural artifacts from its colonies to this day.
Nonetheless the museum has made a concerted effort to shed its old ways, curating exhibits that reconcile with the Netherlands’ colonial legacy and featuring both the blatant and pernicious ways in which the Netherlands hurt the people it colonized.
Exhibits were a blend of both artifacts from the colonies and contemporary artists that created works pertaining to the Dutch colonial legacy, organized by themes like “slavery” or “environment.”
Notably, the Tropenmuseum shed light on the ways in which Dutch colonialism continues to shape our world today.
The harmful practice of monoculture, rampant in Southeast Asia, is a direct legacy of the Dutch introducing single-crop plantations on its colonies. Palm and rubber monoculture plantations continue to destroy biodiversity in Indonesia today.
Much of the infrastructure we see today in Amsterdam — the beautiful architecture and multi-story homes — are a direct product of the riches obtained via Dutch colonies. As one put it, Amsterdam was built on pepper.
Additionally, many Dutch people descend from people of former Dutch colonies. In fact, roughly 800,000 Dutch people have Indo-European roots within four generations as of 2020, according to a paper from the Alzheimer's Association. As a video exhibit at the Tropenmuseum explained, many people of mixed backgrounds continue to grapple with their complicated family legacy and struggle to internalize the reality that they are, in many ways, a product of Dutch colonialism.
The above are only a few examples of the Dutch colonial legacy, but the list goes on. For instance, up until only a few years ago, the Dutch regularly celebrated Zwarte Piet, or Black Pete, as people did Blackface under the guise of “tradition and culture.”
The Tropenmuseum fulfills a vital role in the Dutch cultural fabric, informing the public of their national history. The need for public education is legitimate. Some in the Netherlands still do not know of the Indonesian war for independence, for instance.
Aside from its role in the public sphere, though, the Tropenmuseum pushed me to think more critically of the Netherlands. Perhaps some of the beauty and charm of Amsterdam can be attributed to its history as a colonizer, which leaves me with one question: If not for colonialism, what is the Netherlands?
