Dark Side of Belgian Chocolate
“The horror! The horror!” (Joseph Conrad, Heart of Darkness)
” Facing it, always facing it, that’s the way to get through” (Joseph Conrad)
“How to make peace from the pieces” (Elizabeth Gilbert)
Memories of my years, during the late 60’s, living in Belgium were altogether pleasant. As a resident living in a farmhouse out among rural sugar beet farmers in French speaking Wallonia, I enjoyed a peaceful country life, rich cultural life in the arts, stunning architecture, castles even, colorful folklore, wonderful fresh food, beautiful gardens and especially their glorious begonias. My late husband was stationed there at NATO-S.H.A.P.E. headquarters during the Vietnam-era Doctor’s Draft, and we were fortunate with an assignment that allowed our family to remain together. Our children attended a really small village school and kind friends and neighbors helped with French language, Walloon dialect, and information about Belgian history. In retrospect, these generous offers of orientation included almost no interest or mention of African colonies in Rwanda, Burundi or the Congo.
With deep-water sea port, fertile flat farmlands, and virtually defenseless borders, what is now Belgian territory had been a battleground for many European wars. However, in our village, most of their local stories focused on suffering and traumas surrounding the defeat and occupation of Belgium during the First and Second World Wars, and there were plaques and memorials to victims in just about every city, town, village and numerous country roads. Like so many other occupied countries, their citizenry divided between those who collaborated with the Germans and others who resisted in one form or another; often from within the same family.
At that time, I knew little of trans-generational trauma, yet it was nevertheless clear, that events from those two 20th century wars had not entirely healed, around multiple experiences of betrayal and victimization. Also, throughout this region, there was a collective feeling of being disrespected and marginalized by the more prosperous Flemish-speaking communities in northern Flanders.
It may also be that some intense rivalries between Flemish and Walloon regions within this country, have roots back to earlier times when in 50 BC, warring Belgian tribes were conquered by legions serving the Roman Empire. Stories from a time when the country that is now Belgium, was a Roman colony, became part of the folklore having to do with the founding of the Flemish city of Antwerp. Legend has it, that a giant named Antigon once terrorized merchants who attempted to cross the River Scheldt, by demanding exorbitant toll fees. Those who could not or would not comply, had their right hands cut off and thrown into the river. This finally came to an end, when a fearless Roman soldier named Silvius Brabo, rumored to be a nephew of Julius Caesar, killed this tyrannical giant and threw his right hand into the river. (Tatenda Gwaambuka, “Belgium’s Black Hand Fetish”, Face to Face Africa, January 26, 2019).
To this day a severed hand remains a symbol of the city which sells hand-shaped, dark chocolate candies (Antwerpse Handjes) in celebration of Brabo’s heroics and end to the reign of terror. In Flemish, “werpen” means throwing and “ant” could refer to the giant Antigon. A fountain designed by Jef Lambeaux in 1887 depicting Brabo throwing the severed hand into the river, stands directly in front of Antwerp’s richly ornamented,16th century City Hall.
In more recent times, for some, these severed-hand chocolates have taken on a more sinister meaning. Belgium, which had been part of an imperial colony, subsequently acquired colonies in Africa during the reign of King Leopold II, and it has come to light that his barbarisms far outweighed any committed by Antigon, especially in the tradition of dark skinned severed hands.
Leopold came to power in 1865, ruled until 1909, and believed that, the resource-rich African colonies could enhance his power, wealth and prestige as a monarch. In 1885 he established the Congo, a Central African territory over 80 times the size of Belgium; as his personal possession. His reign has subsequently been designated the worst man- made humanitarian disaster of the turn of the 20th century. Some 15 million, or half the population, died from mistreatment and malnutrition.
Among King Leopold II’s many cruelties, he instituted an accounting policy that required that for every bullet fired by blood-thirsty soldiers, against natives, they then hack off their victim’s right hands, and have them kept for stock taking. Baskets of severed hands, set down at the feet of his European post commanders, became a symbol of the Congo Free State, which was not free. Soon the collection of hands became an end in itself, brought to stations in place of rubber and became a kind of macabre currency. Farmers who failed to meet quotas were often punished by having their hands chopped off as well as the hands of their women and children, proudly presented to officials as proof of enforcement. (Etsey Atisu, “Belgium’s Hand Shaped Chocolates Will Remain an Insult to Victims of Leopold II’s Genocide in Congo”, Face to Face Africa, June 19, 2019).
Belgium imported large quantities of chocolate from the Congo and it remains an important part of Belgian economy. Today, there are over 2000 chocolatiers in this country, and activists claim that these dark chocolate, severed-hand candies, now represent the less savory aspects of Belgium’s exploitation, colonization and genocide in the Congo. For some, continuing production of severed-hand candies represents a willful disconnection and lack of remorse, and at the very least, these hand-styled delicacies should be stopped from production.
While I can very well understand these heartfelt, humanitarian sentiments, from a systemic perspective, dark-hand candies are not the problem, but rather a symptom, of much deeper, unresolved issues, having to do with a blind spot about collective trauma, and perpetrator/victim dynamics, during and in, the aftermath of colonialism; which have now become trans-generational issues as well. And Belgium, of course, is certainly not the only colonial power having to deal with the aftermath of their atrocities, which continue to impact the welfare and stability of their now independent colonies today.
To forcibly remove dark chocolate hands, which represent a complicated symbol throughout Belgian history, would likely also remove an opportunity to view this replicating hand fractal, as an invitation for reflection and possible movement, toward some measure of recognition and integration of deeply human experiences in the roles of both victims and perpetrators. Belgium is, of course, not in any way alone, among colonialist powers, in this challenge to denial, and disconnection, as a defense against the pain, or as Conrad said “The Horror”, continues to replicate and reverberate throughout human history.
Trauma and the Human Condition 