Dear Editor,
I have read Mr Aubrey Norton’s letter, “End This Nonsense About a Wismar ‘Massacre’,”[1] with great interest. While I appreciate his concern that Guyana’s history should not be used to deepen ethnic divisions, I respectfully disagree with his conclusion that the events at Wismar in May 1964 cannot properly be described as a massacre.
In the penultimate paragraph of his letter, Mr Norton states that he opposes “all forms of violence… to achieve political goals.” While this is a commendable position, some critics have questioned whether his public actions have always reflected this principle. They point, for example, to the unrest at Mon Repos in 2022, where, in their view, stronger leadership and intervention might have helped prevent the targeting of businesses, looting, and assaults that contributed to heightened racial and political tensions. Regardless of one’s perspective on that event, it underscores the importance of leaders consistently condemning and opposing all forms of political violence.
At the outset, it is important to note that the term “massacre” is not determined solely by the number of fatalities. If it were, many events commonly described as massacres throughout history would fail to meet the definition. A massacre is generally understood to be a deliberate and largely one-sided attack against a vulnerable population, often involving murder, terror, brutality, and the inability of victims to effectively defend themselves.
The Commission of Inquiry itself documented much more than a count of deaths. It reported murders, assaults, rapes, arson, looting, and the destruction of homes and businesses. More significantly, thousands of Indo-Guyanese were forced to flee the area. The Indian community of Wismar was effectively uprooted and removed. The question, therefore, is not simply how many people died, but what happened to the targeted population as a whole.
Mr Norton argues that because violence elsewhere in British Guiana resulted in greater loss of life and property, Wismar cannot be called a massacre. This conclusion does not necessarily follow. The existence of widespread violence elsewhere in the colony does not diminish the character or significance of what occurred at Wismar. One tragedy does not negate another. The fact that violence occurred in other regions does not prevent historians from recognising a distinct atrocity where one occurred.
Indeed, the Commission’s observation that violence took place throughout the colony was intended to place Wismar within the broader context of national unrest, not to diminish its significance. In fact, the Commission noted that Wismar brought the months of violence “into sharp focus”. Such a statement hardly minimises the seriousness of the events.
Mr Norton places considerable emphasis on the death toll. Certainly, every loss of life is tragic. However, the historical significance of Wismar lies not only in the number who died but also in the organised and one-sided nature of the attacks, the terror inflicted upon civilians, the rapes that occurred, the widespread destruction of property, and the forced displacement of an entire community. These are among the reasons many historians and commentators continue to use the term “massacre”.
Nor is it accurate to suggest that only “Indian rights activists” employ this term. The expression “Wismar Massacre” has been used by writers, historians, community leaders, and ordinary Guyanese for decades. Even Forbes Burnham reportedly referred to the events as a massacre in the Legislative Assembly. Whether one agrees with the terminology or not, it is clearly not a recent invention or the exclusive language of a small activist group.
The letter further suggests that because three Indo-Guyanese and two Afro-Guyanese died during the May disturbances, the term “massacre” is inappropriate. Yet this argument overlooks the broader circumstances. The issue is not merely who died but who was targeted, who was displaced, whose homes and businesses were destroyed, and which community effectively disappeared from the area afterward. Historical analysis requires more than a numerical accounting of fatalities.
I agree with Mr Norton that the violence of the 1960s should be examined in its entirety. The murders of Afro-Guyanese elsewhere in Guyana deserve remembrance. The victims of the Sun Chapman tragedy deserve remembrance. So do the victims of Wismar. Indeed, every innocent victim of political and ethnic violence deserves remembrance.
However, acknowledging those tragedies does not require us to minimise or redefine what occurred at Wismar. History is not a competition of suffering. We do not honour one group’s pain by dismissing or diminishing another’s.
One of the most troubling aspects of the Wismar events was the complete removal of the Indo-Guyanese population from the area. That reality has led some scholars and commentators to characterise the events not merely as a massacre but as a form of ethnic cleansing. Whether one accepts that description or not, it demonstrates that the historical discussion extends far beyond a simple count of fatalities.
The challenge before Guyanese today is not to erase difficult chapters of our history but to confront them honestly and thoughtfully. Honest remembrance requires that we acknowledge all victims – African, Indian, and others – while also recognising the particular nature and consequences of each tragedy.
If our goal is national healing and reconciliation, we should not shy away from historical terminology simply because it may be uncomfortable. Rather, we should carefully examine the evidence and allow the facts to guide our conclusions. By learning from our history, acknowledging past mistakes, and committing ourselves to truth and mutual respect, we can move forward together as one people toward a more just, peaceful, and harmonious future.