A HISTORICAL REVIEW OF MAROON SOCIETIES FROM 1960 ONWARDS

By André R.M. Pakosie

Copyright – This article comprises six pages. All my articles are protected by copyright. No article from my publications may, in whole or in part, be reproduced, copied, or made public in any form whatsoever without proper source attribution. By purchasing or possessing any of my articles or publications, one agrees to these terms.

Note – When reading this article, one should take into account that in the Maroon languages, the plural form is indicated by the article. This means that a title may refer to one or more persons or objects (for example: a Gaanman and six Gaanman). Regarding the spelling of Maroon words and names, the orthography follows that established in my article Writing in Ndyukatongo, a Creole Language in South America (Siboga, vol. 13, no. 1, 2003).

Introduction

This article presents a structured overview of the socio‑cultural, political, and economic developments in the Maroon societies of Suriname, French Guiana, and the diaspora – particularly in the Netherlands and Belgium – since 1960.

Isolation

Until the 1960s, the six Maroon communities of Suriname and French Guiana lived almost entirely according to their own traditions, values, political structures, religion, and governance systems. Their society remained largely isolated from the Western-oriented coastal zone, inhabited by Creoles, Hindustani’s, Javanese, Boeroe or Boers (descendants of Dutch colonists who settled in Suriname as farmers in the 19th century), Chinese, Jews, and Lebanese. The central cities in this coastal region were Paramaribo (Suriname) and Cayenne (French Guiana).

The only route to the territories of the Maroon and Indigenous peoples was via the rivers, marked by countless turbulent sula (rapids). Without the cooperation of Maroon and Indigenous boatmen, people from the coastal area could not reach these regions.

Maroon men, with their families’ consent, temporarily travelled to economic centres in the coastal zone to obtain goods they could not produce themselves, such as soap, salt, fabrics, and petroleum. They also sought temporary work in sectors such as freight transport (bagasi), balata extraction, logging, and gold mining. Furthermore, they were engaged to guide forest expeditions and other ventures, as well as to participate in public health campaigns, for example, malaria control.

Social oversight and mutual care within the Maroon communities were highly developed at that time. When men left temporarily, they agreed upon a latest possible return date. If they had a family, relatives remaining in the village took care of them during their absence.

Influence of Paramaribo and Christianity

In Paramaribo, living conditions were deplorable for Maroon men who came to perform temporary work. Many stayed in shacks, in a “Kombe” (transit house), or in the old abattoir at the corner of Drambrandersgracht and Kleine Saramaccastraat, surrounded by rats and cockroaches. Contact with traditional urban residents was minimal.

Because their stay in the economic centres was temporary, their presence in Paramaribo had little impact on Maroon societies. Among others, the Okanisi Maroons were not prepared at that time to accept Western culture, which they regarded with great distrust.

The government and traditional city dwellers had little involvement with the Maroons and made no serious effort to reach them, except when it served their own interests. In Maroon history, we see, for example, that the government in Paramaribo systematically attempted to exert influence over the Maroons’ system of governance and to undermine traditional authority. Missionaries and evangelists, with government support, also sought to supplant Maroon religion by introducing Christianity. Every Okanisi Gaanman desired education for his people, but the church sought to convert the population under the guise of education. The Okanisi Gaanman (1916–1929), da Papa Amakiti, opposed this and prevented education from proceeding in that manner.

The Afáka syllabary of the Okanisi Maroons – designed in the early years of the twentieth century by the Okanisi Maroon da Atumisi Afáka and introduced to the community – was seized upon by missionaries to convey the Christian message to the Okanisi. In doing so, they did not hesitate to commit serious violations of Okanisi Maroon traditions. For this reason, the Okanisi traditional authority opposed the Afáka script and banned it in 1918, which prevented wider dissemination among the Maroons and confined it to a select group. The ban on the Afáka script lasted from 1918 to 1975.

Owing to my interest in this script, I approached the then Edebukuman (head and guardian) of the Afáka script, da Alufaisi Kastioe, to learn it from him. He told me he wished to transmit it to me but was forbidden to do so unless the Gaanman lifted the ban and granted permission. Together with da Alufaisi, I discussed my wish with gaanman Gazon Matodja; to our great delight, he granted permission, thereby lifting the ban. I was overjoyed to learn the script – not from someone who had merely learned to read and write Afáka, but from the person who was then the second successor of its designer, da Atumisi Afáka, as Edebukuman. Da Alufaisi had also been present when da Atumisi Afáka was designing the script; he and his father, da Abena, were the first two people to whom da Atumisi Afáka taught it. For da Alufaisi, the Gaanman’s permission was likewise a great joy, as it allowed him to fulfil the designer’s wish: to train someone who would further develop and disseminate the Afáka script.

Wealth

For the early Maroons, wealth did not consist of possessing money but rather of survival knowledge and the ability to provide for the goods necessary for sustenance. Assets such as owning a boat or a house were of great importance. Goods that could not be produced locally were purchased in the economic centres of Suriname and French Guiana. After their necessary stay, men returned to their villages with various items such as soap, salt, textiles, and cheese. These goods were shared among the entire village community; for instance, if someone brought back a bar of soap, the whole village – especially the elderly – would receive a portion.

Division of tasks and roles

Within Maroon communities, men and women each had specific roles and responsibilities. There were norms and values to which every community member had to adhere. The individual was accountable both to their family and to the community. Families were closely involved in household life; the maternal uncle and aunt ensured the transmission of knowledge within the family. Respect for elders and authority figures was central. Those who failed to uphold the community’s values and standards were labelled wisiwasiman – a good-for-nothing – a stigma that no one wanted to bear at the time. The Okanisi Maroon community, for example, was founded upon the Sweli Gadu, which strongly shaped their way of life.

Migration to Paramaribo

In the early 1960s, when the Creole political leader Johan Adolf Pengel realised that a broader electorate was essential to secure an election victory, he began actively involving members of the Maroon communities in his party. During the election campaigns, the N.P.S. – the Creole’s National Party of Suriname – ventured into the interior to solicit votes. This strategy marked the beginning of the so‑called Bosland Creole era, a term by which Creoles believed they were elevating their kin from the interior. The Creole politicians in Paramaribo thus aimed to create an artificial unity of the Afro-Surinamese population, the Maroons and the Creoles.

The migration of Maroons to Paramaribo increased rapidly; during this period, women and children also began moving to the city in growing numbers.

Maroons gradually started opening themselves to the Western culture of Paramaribo. Their foremost aim was to participate in developments that could bring them progress, such as education, healthcare, and modern means of communication. However, this openness also had a downside: it soon became clear that the government was eager to benefit from the wealth these communities had preserved, but did not intend for the Maroons to share in the wealth and progress of the city and the state. This deepened the existing imbalance between Creoles and Maroons.

In Paramaribo, members of the Maroon community often settled in socio‑economically disadvantaged neighbourhoods. They frequently faced discrimination, particularly from Creole urban residents. Institutional support was lacking, and there was a persistent shortage of adequate housing.

New Generation of Maroon Youth

The discrimination faced by the Maroons had profound consequences for the younger generation growing up in Paramaribo. Some experienced identity crises: they no longer wished to identify with the culture of their parents and ancestors but also failed to fully connect with urban culture. In addition, a lack of financial resources prevented many from progressing to secondary education, resulting in early school dropout. This gave rise to a lost generation of Maroon youth – disadvantaged, without prospects for employment, and with insufficient income. The absence of educational opportunities meant they could not ascend the social ladder.

Furthermore, certain norms and values that were commonplace in the interior, such as hospitality and respect, did not correspond to urban reality. They discovered that they were not welcomed in the same way that they had learned to welcome others. They concluded that these values could by no means be taken for granted among the traditional urban population. This was a source of frustration for many.

The Maroon youth needed new role models – individuals capable of navigating both the culture of Paramaribo and that of the interior, who would fight for improved living conditions. I had the privilege of being one such figure. In 1968, at the age of 13, I founded the A.B.J.O. (Algemene Binnenlandse Jongeren Organisatie – General Interior Youth Organisation), which was finally renamed AKIFONGA (warriors). During that period, I sought to raise awareness among Maroon youth in Paramaribo of their cultural heritage and the social challenges they faced.

Later, together with other Maroon youths of that period whom I succeeded in bringing together – including Raymond Misiedjan, Robert Asoitie, Louise Asongie, Hendrik Asidan, André Misiekaba, Cornelly Prisirie, Kensly Vrede, Hendrik Babel en Belfon Aboikoni, – I encouraged the younger generation of Maroons to shape their own future and to oppose unequal treatment and imbalanced power relations.

In 1974, I initiated the establishment of the “DAG VAN DE MARRONS” (Day of the Maroons), to commemorate the struggle of the ancestors of the six Maroon communities against oppression and for the attainment of freedom. In 2010, this day was officially recognized as a national holiday by the Surinamese government.

The Surinamese government, however, did not adopt the measures we initiated to improve the position of the Maroons. No efforts were undertaken to promote their participation in national development, nor were sustainable development projects implemented in the traditional territories of the Maroon and Indigenous populations. As a result, the socio‑economic disparities in these regions have persisted. A significant portion of the Maroon population remains illiterate or semi-literate, which severely hinders their social mobility. Moreover, for a long time, the political power centre lacked parties or representatives who could advocate for their interests.

The Bouterse-Brunswijk War

The widespread support of Maroon youth and elders for the Jungle Commando during the Bouterse-Brunswijk war was, contrary to common belief, not a spontaneous endorsement of a personal feud between the two rivals. Rather, it largely stemmed from the collective reprisals carried out by Bouterse and his army against the Maroons, in response to the armed resistance initiated by Brunswijk and his Jungle Commando. However, this war did not bring the anticipated progress. On the contrary, numerous villages were destroyed. Maroon societies became profoundly disrupted. Violence spread into the interior, where conflicts had previously been settled within traditional authority structures. Nowadays, weapons are increasingly employed in such disputes. Rising youth crime contributes to the erosion of authority within their own communities. Furthermore, some traditional leaders, acting out of self‑interest, allow themselves to be influenced by politicians, thereby gradually diminishing their authority.

These developments continued – and even worsened – after Maroons began to share governmental responsibilities through their own political parties from 2005 onward. During the 2020-2025 administration, Maroons even held key positions in both the legislative and executive branches. Yet, due largely to nepotism and cronyism – where the common good was subordinated to personal, family, and friends’ interests – little to no progress was made toward sustainable development for the interior. This region, the traditional homeland of Indigenous peoples and Maroons, remains neglected and functions as a resource extraction zone for politicians in Paramaribo. Apart from a few occasional show projects, the traditional habitat of the Indigenous and Maroon people continues to lag behind socio-economically.

Unchecked Economic Expansion 

Uncontrolled economic expansion poses a serious threat to both the rainforest and the communities of the interior. Gold mining and large-scale logging result in the sell-off of forests and other natural resources, with participation from all who possess the means. Maroon youth, who would normally be expected to attend school, are compelled to work in gold mining in order to survive. This disrupts social relations: established structures are destabilised, and young people with access to gold assume dominant positions within the community. Moreover, some women are compelled to engage in prostitution in order to obtain access to gold and thus secure their livelihood. This development brings about a profound shift in gender relations.

Western and other foreign actors also contribute to this unchecked economic exploitation, taking – without scruples and without any form of compensation – not only forest and mineral resources but also cultural heritage, traditional knowledge, and medicinal plant expertise from Indigenous peoples and Maroons back to their own countries.

Migration to the Netherlands

As a consequence of the Bouterse‑Brunswijk War, many Maroons fled to other countries including the Netherlands, the United States, Canada, France, and Belgium. In the Netherlands, those who were already disadvantaged in Suriname face even greater challenges in adaptation. Due to (semi)illiteracy and unfamiliarity with the new culture, many participate only minimally in social life. Furthermore, there is little trust in the Surinamese welfare institutions originally established – at least in part – to represent their interests, as these have been, and remain, strongly ethnically oriented. Maroons in the Netherlands are therefore largely left to fend for themselves. At the same time, there has been a substantial loss of cultural heritage: cultural custodians within families are often absent, and family support structures have disappeared, leading individuals to act on their own discretion and further eroding shared social frameworks.

Maroon traditional culture versus modern culture

The future of the Maroon communities in, among others, the Netherlands, Belgium, and Suriname appears unpromising, although there are some positive developments. In Suriname, after the Bouterse-Brunswijk war, many Maroon youths made their way into university education; some have since graduated and hold solid positions. In the Netherlands, too, a growing cohort of young Maroons is succeeding in both education and the labor market.

In 2000, during a visit to the Netherlands, gaanman Gazon Matodja installed the first council of Kabiten and Basiya, with the aim of providing cultural and social support to the Okanisi Maroons in the Netherlands where needed. This initiative was followed in 2006 by the Pamaka Maroons and in 2007 by the Saamaka Maroons. Years later, the Matawai and the Kwiïnti Maroons also established analogous supportive traditional authorities for their communities. Up to and including 2012, the traditional governance structures of the Okanisi, Pamaka, and Saamaka Maroons in the Netherlands functioned effectively and in accordance with their mandate. They cooperated and advocated for Maroon interests. Today, however, the functioning of traditional authority among the various Maroon groups in the Netherlands leaves much to be desired. Relations are strained, and rivalry exists within groups. Rather than collaborating and pursuing collective interests, the focus has shifted to hierarchy and personal status – who stands above whom. As a result, opportunities that could have been realised through cooperation are missed. Due to internal rivalries, individuals present themselves as representatives of Maroon communities and raise funds that do not, or only partially, benefit those communities.

To build a stable Maroon society in the Netherlands, it is necessary to preserve what is valuable in the communities’ own cultural traditions while embracing appropriate Western elements that can improve and consolidate their social position. Above all, SUSTAINED COLLABORATION is essential.

Concluding reflections

Since the 1960s, Maroon societies have undergone profound transformations. From isolated communities deep in the interior to diaspora communities in European cities and other urban settings, they have repeatedly adapted to political, economic, and social shifts. Despite setbacks, discrimination, and the loss of traditions, there are clear signs of resilience and breakthrough -especially in education, professional advancement, and cultural revaluation.

The future of the Maroon communities depends to a great extent on strengthened internal cooperation, combined with the strategic integration of their own cultural values and selective modernisation.

[1] André R.M. Pakosie (born in 1955 in Diitabiki, in the Tapanahoni region of the interior of Suriname). Naturopath and phytotherapist, trained in and practising according to the traditions of the Maroons from the tropical rainforest of Suriname; historian, poet, editor of Siboga (magazine for Maroon culture and history), chairman of the Maroon Institute Stichting Sabanapeti;  documentary maker; from 2000 to 2012 Kabiten (traditional leader) of the Okanisi Maroons in the Netherlands; since 1993 Edebukuman (head and guardian of the Afáka syllabary); founder (in 1974) of ‘Dag van de Marrons’ (Maroon Day), a national day of remembrance in Suriname honouring the struggle for freedom of the ancestors of the Maroons; recipient of the highest Maroon award, the Gaanman Gazon Matodja Award; ‘Ridder in de Ere-Orde van de Gele Ster’ – Knight in the Order of the Yellow Star – (Suriname); debuted in 1972, at the age of seventeen, as a writer with the book “De dood van Boni” (The Death of Boni); writes prose and poetry. His work has also appeared in renowned journals such as The Journal of Legal Pluralism and Unofficial Law (University of Birmingham, England), De Gids, NWIG (New West Indian Guide), OSO (Journal for Surinamese Linguistics, Literature and History) and BSS (Sources for the Study of Suriname). He specialises in the culture and history of the Maroons.