Sinterklaas is Coming to Town: The Joy and Acrimony of ‘Dutch Christmas’
A week before he shows up, his landfall is foretold in public announcements on trams . When Sinterklaas finally arrives, hundreds come to greet him. Children shriek in delight at the sight of his ship. Dozens of gift-wrapped packages are visible on the deck of the Pakjesboot (package boat) as it pulls into harbor. The childrens’ smiles last for hours, even as their parents’ faces eventually betray hints of exhaustion. A few popular songs are endlessly repeated. An old man, seemingly come alone, taps his foot and joins in as one of the more boisterous songs makes its way around the crowd. It is undeniably a scene of great joy and I struggle not to be taken away by the communal feeling of uncritical celebration. Seeing from a certain angle, one might easily overlook the acrimonious debate and specter of racism which surround this festival of fun.
In most of the western world the month of December is marked by cultural rituals which varyingly bring to the fore the divine, delightful and the materialistic predilections of a given culture. In New York the lighting of the Christmas Tree at Rockefeller Center, watched by tens of millions across the country and beyond, heralds a frenetic month of house decoration, visits to Santa, and shopping for gifts. December brings with it the Christmas spirit. Though the extent to which this spirit is wholesome, genuine and holistic is hotly debated, its pervasiveness is undeniable.
The Christmas season revolves around children, and adults’ nostalgia for childhood. The young, acquisitive runts that they are, are particularly engaged by the promise of gifts and the whimsy of the fantastical creatures which enter our consciousness and our chimneys during this time. The impossible feats and magical nature of creatures like Santa Claus and Rudolph go against everything we understand about the world. But, by some unwritten contract undersigned by nearly everyone, we accept the reality of magic during this season. Whether for our childrens’ sake or our own, we agree to let the spirit of Christmas take hold of us.
Christmas, or Kerst, is hardly celebrated in the Netherlands. The celebration of Christ’s birth plays second fiddle to the arrival of Sinterklaas, and his hold on the country is greater than that of any other Yuletide figure. The adoration shown to Saint Nicholas, the palpability of the spirit which surrounds him and the degree to which society is tangibly altered by his visit dwarfs the footprint left by Santa Claus on any other land. The unparalleled power of the collective social alchemy which makes the fantastic seem real and the world a little brighter is apparent in the joyous eyes of Dutch children.
As a psuedochristian secularized end-of-year holiday season oriented toward children, Sinterklaas simply has Christmas beat. True, like most Americans, I can recall dozens of instances where, during my childhood, I was enraptured by the Christmas spirit. While sitting on Santa’s lap, tracking the progress of his aerial mission with the NORAD Santa website on Christmas eve, and, several sleepless hours later, bounding down the stairs with my brothers to search our stockings, the mythos of Santa Claus engendered in me great feelings of glee and connection to a meaningful, generous tradition.
Nevertheless I am left with the impression that the emotional impact of Sinterklaas on the Dutch is greater than that of Santa Claus and Christmas on my countrymen. The manifestations of the Sinterklaas season are more creative and less commercial (though the holiday is becoming more consumption-oriented). But while Christmas in America is blemished by the taint of excessive consumerism, Sinterklaas is marked by a much more troubling presence: racial insensitivity. For the Sint, as he is popularly known, does not come alone.
Sinterklaas, like Santa Claus, is a metamorphosed version of the Chistian Saint Nicholas, protector of children. Traveling from his home in distant Spain, he comes to the Netherlands on the first Saturday after November 11th. Following his arrival, children leave their shoes out each week. If they have been good and sing a short song to the Sint, they can expect a shoe filled with small gifts the following morning.
With a mind for spreading the joy to children all over the country, he chooses a different city to host his arrival every year. From this entry point, he travels to different cities where his coming is marked by a parade.. On the 6th of December he departs the country, leaving behind one final batch of gifts for the good children of Holland. Families and groups of friends hold parties, exchanging gifts in a seemingly random manner which is actually prescribed by a set of arcane traditions passed down so as to maximize mirth.
Another remarkable thing about Sinterklaas is that you only ever see one. Whereas countless Santas roam the streets of America, awkwardly crossing paths and forcing the parents of inquisitive children to nervously explain that these other men in red are merely servants of Santa, Dutch children encounter fewer discrepancies in the official story and have less cause to doubt. Careful planning seeks to minimize the Sint appearing in two places at once: different cities do their best to hold Sint parades on different days. This also makes the appearance of the actual Sinterklaas all the more special. His likeness may decorate countless storefronts and chocolate boxes, but seeing the man in his telltale white beard and red vestments means actual contact with a legendary figure known for his beneficence toward children. Though many children don his trademark hat during the parades, I have yet to see an adult so dressed (other than Sinterklaas himself, of course).
On the other hand, the costume worn by Sinterklaas is curiously cheap. Unlike the more professional Santas who appear in New York or in advertising, the Sint wears a clearly fake white beard and clothes which look more like a $50 costume shop find than the silky vestments of a saint. The benefit of this, I have been told, is that it is easier for him to appear the same wherever he is represented. In private appearances within homes and schools, the stand-in Sint will look exactly the same as the one greeting children from horseback on his various parades.
But for many Dutch, young and old alike, Sinterklaas isn’t the main attraction at all. He is overshadowed by Zwarte Piet (Black Pete), his dusky and mischievous companion. In the imaginations of children as well as in the visual landscape and political debate, Piet looms larger than his master.
When Sinterklaas arrives in The Hague by boat, he is accompanied by a large retinue of Zwarte Piets. Dressed in colorful renaissance garb, these playful servants of the good Saint dance around amusing children. Clumsily, whimsically, they unload bags of gifts from the boat. Kids eye them carefully, wondering which package contains gifts destined for their own shoes. The crowd regularly bursts into song. Though directed by loudspeakers and a small group on stage, the singing has an organic feel to it and engenders in me a sense of belonging. I learn the songs as I go, but sing along regardless. This sort of communal singing is particularly attractive to me, perhaps because it is mostly absent from own culture outside of birthday parties and singing the national anthem at baseball games.
The jester-like appearance and carefree demeanor of the Piets make them especially popular with the young. To the children welcoming Sinterklaas at the harbor of The Hague and those lining the parade route, the jolly Piets are makers of mirth, prancing around, putting on silly faces and distributing delicious pepernoten.
Another remarkable thing about the whole affair is the discipline of the Dutch when it comes to these baked sweets. Though universally loved, they are only available around this time of year and eating them any other time is frowned upon. Though they first appear on store shelves in early November, a friend of mine generally makes her own and absolutely refuses to eat any before the Sint’s arrival (and looks down upon those who do). Thus, by consensually induced scarcity, peppernoten are made special and their sweet and spicy aroma constitutes yet another change to the sensory landscape of the Netherlands during Sinterklaas.
Kids shout at the top of their lungs as Sint and his Piets appear, calling out their names. A small girl, dressed as Piet, dances with one, accepting pepernoten and asking him about the boat he arrived on. In the weeks to come, hordes of Piets will delight children all over the country, arriving at their schools. I have heard stories of the exciting ways the Piets contrive to make their entrance. One year they arrive on bedazzled skateboards, the next the entire school is told to leave the building where they find a firetruck helping a troupe of hapless Piets who have managed to get themselves stuck in the great tree outside their school. As children grow older, many delight in taking on the role of Piet themselves, recreating in others the remembered joy they themselves so treasure.
Not all Piets are alike. During their trips to schools, supermarkets and hospitals the different personalities of the Piets shine through. Particularly beloved is the messy Piet, infamous for entering classrooms and throwing pencils everywhere. Though the children themselves must clean up after messy Piet, they love him all the same.
But Zwarte Piet isn’t only characterized by his outlandish clothes and endearingly foolish personality. For Zwarte Piet is of course Black Pete, and the men and women accompanying Sinterklaas all wear some degree of blackface. In this mythical reality where Saint Nicholas (actually from modern-day Turkey) lives in Spain, Zwarte Piet is dark-skinned Moor. This origin is sometimes obfuscated today. Piet’s blackness has been retconned by some to be caused by the soot which collects on his face while climbing down chimneys. All the Piets wear frizzy black wigs and some (though not the official Piets following Sinterklaas in The Hague) also wear bright red lipstick. The picture, to my American eyes, looks a lot like that of the minstrel show, a tradition of racist theatrical pantomime which lives on in the deplorable costumes of clueless or vile people who still occasionally feel the urge to play black at some party.
When I first beheld photographs of (white) people dressing up as Zwarte Piet years before I moved to the Netherlands, my response was some measure of disgust. I was repulsed, immediately connecting this practice of blackface to the racist minstrel shows once popular in my own country. In such performances, the physical and cultural features of black Americans were caricatured and mocked to supposedly humorous effect. Already subjugated by slavery and its successive social systems, blackface represented a especially cruel and incisive attack on African Americans. On a more visceral and idiosyncratic level, I was taken aback by the uncanny appearance of a person wearing black as pitch makeup; I have always been extremely averse to any kind of artificial marking on my body, balking even at the idea of writing a number on my hand. To me, dressing up like Zwarte Piet not only seemed insensitive and potentially racist, but also a minor exercise in body-horror.
While Zwarte Piet as a character isn’t a conglomeration of negative stereotypes about Africans in the way that minstrel characters were in the US, he isn’t a smart guy either. He is loved, but loved for being a fool. It was convincngly argued on my American college campus that histories of colonialism, slavery and oppression (which are present, in different degrees, in both Dutch and American history books) make impersonations of blacks by whites legacies of white supremacy and inherently racist. The same is said by some in the Netherlands. Despite claims to the contrary, Piet is a caricature of an African and the colonial history of the country and offense taken by some make many eager to stop the practice of blackface Piets.
During Sinterklaas’ arrival in The Hague, I see a range of Piets. Those of the official retinue who march in the parade are joined by locals geared up for the festive day. Kids dress up as Piet too, far more than impersonate the Sint himself. Some sport the caricatured bright red lips and hoop earrings which have been abandoned by more conscientious followers of Saint Nicholas. Others embody a further evolution, wearing no wigs and only irregularly marking their faces with smudges of black soot. These are the so called roetveeg Pieten (soot-smudged Piets).
This year Kick Out Zwarte Piet, the main group protesting the use of blackface, decided against demonstrating at the harbor and along the parade route. They did so because they believed it to be unsafe. In the past, demonstrators have gotten into altercations with and been assaulted by fans of the tradition. As an American, I immediately presume this to be a battle in a culture war. It seems kin to the civil conflicts my own country has been fighting for decades. Those against Piet see blackface as a sign of the country’s continuing coloniality and connect him to other progressive social issues; those who react against political correctness defend Zwarte Piet and interpret in their opponents a much broader attack on Dutchness.
That the issue centers around children makes it all the more important for both sides. If Zwarte Piet isn’t just a character but a front in the culture war, it is easy to see his strategic and emotional significance. To those against, washing Piet of his blackface would present an important lesson to maleable young children about racism. Those who enjoy the tradition as it is see an attack not only on themselves and their culture but also on their children. It is easy to imagine how even peaceful protesters might meet a violent reaction from people who feel they are ruining their children’s favorite holiday and filling their heads with exaggerations and subversive radicalism.
Predictably, the frontlines of the conflict overlap with established political divisions. Parties of the progressive left actively condemn Zwarte Piet and advocate for wiping out blackface. Newer groups on the reactionary right adamantly defend him as a symbol of the sort of Dutchness which they feel is threatened by progressive types and immigrants. In a strange scene caught on camera, a local leader of PEGIDA (a rightwing anti-Muslim group), was arrested while dressed as Zwaarte Piet. Complete with gold earring and red lips curled in an ironic smile, he chanted “black is beautiful” as he was ushered into a police van.
As with most things, in Holland if not in the world, most people lie outside the radical camps. One man who says he is broadly sympathetic to the progressive left is dismissive of those who want to get whitewash Piet. Fondly recalling his own childhood memories, he is disturbed by those who would let their protesting interfere with a celebration loved by so many children. At the parade a mother of three tells me she is put off by Zwaarte Piet and thinks the practice might be a bit wrong, but nevertheless takes her children every year. The majority Dutch approve of Zwarte Piet, though the numbers are lower among non-whites, many of them descendants of people enslaved by Dutch colonialists. Still, it would be inaccurate to characterize it as an entirely racial issue. People of all colors come to see Sinterklaas in The Hague, including black mother whose young daughter’s dark face is splashed with black makeup.
What to do with Zwaarte Piet? The roetveeg makeover which alters his face from faux-African to dirty chimney sweep seems a plausible solution in line with the much vaunted poldermodel of conesus-driven compromise. But there are degrees of soot smudging, some of which look quite like blackface, and thus still racist to some. The fact that his name is ‘Black Pete’ makes any rehabilitation tricky: Roetveeg Piet doesn’t have quite the same ring to it. If giving the character a makeover also means changing his name, other issues are raised. Such a change would certainly rankle with reactionaries and fans of the tradition who would see this as a more tangible attack on their heritage. To some, this would be like not only shaving Santa’s beard, but changing his name as well.
I wonder, somewhat disturbed, if Piet’s eerie black makeup might actually be important to his character and a significant factor in the love children show him. Along with his anachronistic attire, Piet’s blackface makes him look unreal. The fact the Piet is male but also portrayed by women compounds this queer sense of unreality. The complete covering of the face can be imagined as recollecting primal rituals which connected people to non-human spirits. For Zwarte Piet doesn’t look like a normal human. He is uncanny and disturbing to those unfamiliar with him, and not only because of the racist undertones of his blackface. Perhaps children recognize this, and love Piet for his bizarre feat of existing as a being which looks like none they have ever seen. By obscuring their features and identity, the use of full blackface grants those who dress up as Piet a degree of anonymity and hence license to behave in an abnormal way that so amuses children. A few smudges of black soot might not have the same effect.
People are reticent to change, especially so when the thing to be changed is a wellspring of nostalgia and childhood joy. Even if the change might only be superficial, many react negatively.
Cognitive dissonance and contradiction abound. As with Christmas and Santa, there is a disconnect within the minds of children who, once they reach a certain age know that he cannot be real yet still believe in Piet and the Sint. It is also present in anti-Pieters who are betrayed by widening eyes when I ask them about childhood encounters with the character. One young women, vehemently against Zwarte Piet today, told me of the genuine sorrow she experienced as an adolescent when the Zwarte Piets in her progressive corner of Holland began to change, first losing their red lips, then their earrings and finally their black faces. Those militantly supporting the tradition seem similarly detached in their righteous fury at proposals which merely intend to adjust the appearance of a children’s character. Perhaps most strange are the many people I speak to who say they are against both blackface and those protesting it. Though they think that Piet is offensive or racist, they nevertheless look down on those who would, through their protesting, interfere with an event which many young children say they anticipate more highly than even their birthdays.
Talking to fully-grown dutch people, I am struck by the impact of Sinterklaas on their lives. Eyes light up as they recall the whimsy of childhood encounters. The footprint of Zwarte Piet cannot be understated. In the deeper lore, less emphasized today, Piet also dispenses punishment to children. If they are especially bad, he will put them in a burlap sack and take them to Spain. Stuck here in the Dutch winter, that seems to me an incentive to misbehave. But a Dutch friend tells me that back when his father was warning him about Piet this seemed a dire fate. It is telling of the influence of Sinterklaas that it was only years later that he thought of Spain as a normal European country and not a penal colony and home of fanciful beings like Zwarte Piet. Still to this day, whenever he sees gold hoop earrings of any kind, he thinks immediately of Piet. One wonders at the relish a Freudian would take in talking him through his romantic encounters with bejeweled women.
I used to be singularly disturbed by Zwarte Piet. Happening upon the character, my response must have been something like that of two Anglophone expats who, chancing upon a troupe of Piets at the parade, shook their heads proclaiming it to be “so fucking creepy”. Disturbed I remain, but I now have a better idea of the appeal of this bizarre and problematic character. Having seen Sinterklaas’ arrival, I understand why he and Zwarte Piet are so beloved and why the Dutch are resistant to changing him, even if these changes might not detract from his magical properties.
The controversy surrounding Zwarte Piet is all most foreigners know of the Dutch tradition of Sinterklaas. This is a shame, for amidst the acrimony and dark colonial implications, there is great joy to be found in the arrival of Saint Nicholas in the Netherlands. Were there not, there would likely be no controversy as people would surely adopt the path of least resistance and do away with blackface Piet.
