Dear Editor,
Tomorrow, we commemorate the 62nd anniversary of the bombing of the Son Chapman.
As this four-part series comes to its conclusion, let it be understood that this is not the end of the conversation. Rather, it is an invitation to begin a more honest one.
To reflect upon the disturbances at Wismar in May and the bombing of the Son Chapman in July is not merely to remember a painful chapter in Linden’s history. It is to recognise an entire period of national upheaval that engulfed Guyana between 1962 and 1964, a period when fear replaced trust, politics divided neighbours and ordinary working people became the greatest victims.
As Lindeners, we owe history the truth. We must never allow anyone to tell our story selectively, vindictively or for political convenience. We have a responsibility to ensure that it is recorded accurately, completely and fairly.
That responsibility requires us to reject every attempt to isolate the events at Wismar, Christianburg, and Mackenzie from the wider national crisis. To do so is neither truthful nor just. It diminishes the suffering of every Guyanese family whose lives were shattered during those years and unfairly places the burden of a national tragedy upon one community while ignoring the violence that consumed an entire country.
History records that long before, and long after, the disturbances at Wismar, Guyana was gripped by murders, bombings, arson, reprisals, and racial attacks. Families were hacked to death. Innocent men, women and children were murdered. Schoolchildren came under attack. Homes, businesses and livelihoods were destroyed. Across the country, communities that had once lived together in relative peace found themselves divided by fear and families were forced to flee for their lives.
Indeed, according to the Commission of Inquiry established to investigate the disturbances, during the months leading up to May 1964, Wismar, Christianburg and Mackenzie had not been affected by the violence that had already spread elsewhere across Guyana.
What becomes clear therefore, is that 1964 marked the escalation of an ethnic and political crisis that had already taken root, a period in which political rivalry deepened, race was weaponised, and ordinary citizens paid the highest price.
It began with politically motivated strikes that intensified racial tension.
It continued with violence against children. On 23rd March 1963, a school bus on the East Coast was bombed, killing young Godfrey Texeira and injuring several others. Shortly afterwards came the killing of a young man at Lusignan, prompting a national appeal to “stop the war against children.”
In May 1964 came the shooting deaths of a mason and a headmaster on the West Demerara.
The killing of the Ishmael family at Tain, Corentyne, in the early months of 1964, remains one of the many tragic episodes of that turbulent period. A husband and wife were brutally killed, and their home was subsequently destroyed by fire.
Meanwhile, across the East Coast, East Bank, and East and West Berbice, villages that had once lived as friendly neighbours were torn apart by suspicion and violence. As Hamilton Green recalled in From Pain to Peace, “It was total war.”
Even before violence reached Wismar, a young man from Buxton had been hacked to death.
Then came 25th May 1964, the disturbances at Wismar. Homes and properties were destroyed, women were raped, and three Indo-Guyanese lost their lives.
On 12th June 1964, among the many killings that scarred the nation, Mr. A. A. Abraham and his seven children perished after their home was deliberately set ablaze.
Then, on 6th July 1964, came the bombing of the Son Chapman, claiming the lives of 43 Afro-Guyanese in one of the deadliest single attacks in our nation’s history.
The attacks against Afro-Guyanese and Indo-Guyanese alike, the destruction of property, and the countless unnamed victims all form one painful national story. They are not separate histories to be remembered only when politically convenient.
Each of these events deserves careful examination, supported by evidence and guided by humanity. Every victim deserves remembrance. Every community deserves to be heard. Every injustice deserves acknowledgment.
For only through the complete truth can genuine reconciliation become possible.
In reflecting upon these events, we must also acknowledge the testimony of those who lived through them. Citizens such as Mr. Lloyd Austin, who served as a young teacher and member of the British Guiana Volunteer Force, remind us that history is strengthened when eyewitnesses speak and when facts are carefully preserved. Their recollections enrich the historical record and reinforce why accuracy must always take precedence over political convenience.
Memory carries responsibility. Where errors exist, they must be corrected. Where facts have been omitted, they must be restored. Where myths have replaced evidence, they must give way to truth.
For reconciliation cannot be built upon incomplete history. Neither should Linden continue to carry a burden that belongs to an entire nation.
This community did not create Guyana’s racial crisis. It was one of its victims.
The people of Wismar, Christianburg and Mackenzie now Linden, suffered alongside thousands of Guyanese who were caught in a domestic and international political conflict far greater than themselves. To recognise that truth is not to excuse wrongdoing wherever it occurred. It is simply to insist that history be measured by the same standard for everyone.
The lesson for modern Guyana is clear. When politics abandons dialogue, ordinary people pay the price. When leaders inflame division, communities inherit the grief. When truth is delayed, reconciliation becomes more difficult.
As we reflect upon the disturbances of the early 1960s and the tragedy that unfolded in 1964, we must also confront a difficult truth about contemporary Guyana. In more recent decades, hundreds of Guyanese have also lost their lives during periods of intense violence. Among them were police officers, mothers, fathers, brothers, convicted prisoners, escapees, and ordinary citizens. Their identities differed, but the grief left behind was the same.
Time and again, Guyana has passed through cycles of violence, followed by uneasy periods of calm, without fully addressing the wounds left beneath the surface.
We must have the courage to challenge every narrative that seeks to keep one community in check by manufacturing fear. We must reject the dangerous doctrine that teaches some Guyanese to live in fear while teaching others that they are to be feared. That is not the language of nation-building; it is the language of division. It breeds suspicion where trust should flourish, hostility where understanding should prevail, and keeps our people captive to yesterday’s conflicts instead of healing.
When a nation fails to heal, unresolved trauma becomes part of its political and social culture. The conditions that produced yesterday’s conflicts can quietly survive into tomorrow. That is why truth, reconciliation, and stronger democratic institutions are not lofty ideals; they are national necessities. If we are to honour those who suffered, whether in the 1960s or in more recent times, we must build institutions that encourage dialogue, justice, accountability, and healing, so that future generations inherit a country where conflict is resolved through understanding rather than violence.
As we commemorate the 62nd anniversary of the Son Chapman tomorrow, Monday, 6th July, let us remember every innocent life lost, not only those aboard that vessel, but every Guyanese whose life was claimed during those troubled years.
Let us reject selective remembrance. Let us reject attempts to stigmatise one community while overlooking a wider national tragedy. Instead, let us embrace a history that is complete, balanced and honest.
Only the truth can heal. Only justice can reconcile. Only by remembering together can Guyana finally move forward together.
Yours truly,
Hon. K. Sharma Solomon
Member of Parliament
