Multivocality in the Dutch Cultural and Heritage Sector

Whose voices are centered when we speak about decoloniality in the cultural sector in the Netherlands, and whose voices are missing? Since the beginning of my studies in the Netherlands in 2024, this question still lingers. 

One of the first things I noticed when I arrived on Dutch shores as a recipient of the Nuffic scholarship in Cultural Heritage, was that Sri Lanka continues to sit very low on the totem pole when it comes to colonial heritage and its ties to the Netherlands. I also noticed how the concept of multivocality is perceived here. As a recent graduate with a Masters in Applied Museum and Heritage Theory, I share my ongoing reflections on what it means to engage with multiple voices in the heritage sector and the legacies of colonialism. 

I must admit that there were several aspects to admire about how colonial imprints are discussed in the Netherlands. Firstly, there is an openness to discourse and a willingness to engage actively with decoloniality within the cultural sector. Secondly, it is this very system that enabled me to come to the Netherlands and funded my education. Thirdly, there have been notable efforts to repatriate looted objects to their countries of origin. These are all admirable developments, though perhaps now subject to scrutiny under changing governance.

However, one point continued to trouble me. As a Sri Lankan, I noticed how little attention was paid to our shared colonial history. Most Dutch people seem to know very little about it, being more familiar with the Netherlands’ involvement in Indonesia and Suriname. Many are aware that the Dutch East India Company made “conquests” in other parts of the world - including my own country - yet Sri Lanka rarely features in public discourse. When I raised this question in class one day, the response made me deeply uncomfortable: “That’s because they don’t have a large demographic here in the Netherlands.” 

Yes, that’s true. Sri Lankans weren’t granted citizenship as easily and the passport did not exist when the VOC entered our shores. They just entered and took over - no permission was needed. No visas had to be granted. 

This answer reflects a deeper assumption: that former colonies are no longer living with the remnants of colonial exploitation and unequal power dynamics. To use my own experience as an example: in Sri Lanka, we still use Dutch laws. Moreover, I am part Dutch Burgher - a descendant of Dutch settlers who intermarried with local communities. Back home, I am often seen as an outsider; here in the Netherlands, I am seen as distinctly Asian - the “Other.” My very identity is rooted in colonisation, and I often wonder where I truly belong.

The notion that only diasporic voices are included in decolonial conversations is another point of discomfort for me. The diaspora has lived experiences that differ greatly from those who remain in former colonies. While I do not wish to invalidate the discrimination the diaspora has faced - and in some cases continues to face - in the Netherlands, it is essential to recognise the distinction between these experiences and those of “source communities.” Though both are connected by an extractive colonial history, the realities they inhabit are profoundly different.

If we truly aim to decolonise our institutions and achieve genuine multivocality, all voices must be brought to the table. I would love to see dialogues that bring together Dutch voices, diasporic voices, and those from former colonies. While the Netherlands works to confront its colonial past, people in the former colonies are still living with the enduring effects of those histories. They are grappling with the lingering traumas and power structures left in the wake of empire - sometimes even reenacting them. In Sri Lanka, for example, this can take the form of the nation-state reasserting itself by repurposing the same divisive tools once used against it, now deployed against its own minority groups.

In these uncertain and perilous times, it is vital that we do not lose sight of what decoloniality truly means. We must listen to the voices of those still living under laws and systems that trace back to the 16th century. To be a true ally is to write with people from former colonies - not just about them. It means ensuring that their names and experiences stand alongside those of people living in the Netherlands as a result of colonisation.

True decoloniality is not about redrawing borders of acceptability or order; it is about building bridges of understanding between communities. It is about empathy - but also about passing on the baton. As an academic, it means not only going to former colonies to study their experiences but collaborating and writing alongside them. As a curator, it means placing a Sri Lankan diasporic artist beside an artist living in Sri Lanka in programming. Only then can genuine decoloniality be achieved, and real conversations - alongside and with communities - take place.

Until then, the silkscreen of decoloniality will hold only as long as the façade persists.

*This post was first published by the ECHO Awards in the Netherlands as a nominee for the year 2025