How much sugar is too much sugar?

How a slave uprising in a former British colony should color our consumption of Demerara sugar.

The grocery aisles in England differ slightly from the ones in America. After walking past the aisle with the unrefrigerated eggs (if you know you know!), one can find the essentials for home baking. Different types of flour, baking powder, bicarbonate of soda, and vanilla are neatly stacked across the shelves. Most importantly, there are so many options for sugar. White castor sugar in their square paper bags, sugar alternatives branded with all kinds of different hues and colors, and finally brown sugar. What I found interesting here in England is that brown sugar has a name–Demerara.

This wasn’t the first time I had seen the name Demerara. I knew heard of this name and even read about it, but I struggled for a while to pinpoint where. Week after week I went to the grocery store and walked past Demerara Sugar. Suddenly, I realized Demerara was not just a well-marketed brand it was a place. Located in modern-day Guyana, Demerara was one of many sugar-producing colonies in the British Empire.

This week we’re exploring how the global demand for Demerara sugar shaped the lives of the people forced to cultivate it.

Photo by John Cutting on Unsplash

When colonial officials in British Guiana raided the dwelling place of an enslaved Father and Son by the name of Quamina and Jack on September 13, 1832, they found just seven items: “2 Bibles, 1 Testament, 1 Wesley's Hymn-book, 1 Watts' do., Spelling-book, and Sunday Tracts’.” What to some may have been evidence of a Christian conversion, faith, and piety were lethal contraband to the British.

The Bible had come to represent a means of mental escape for enslaved people like Quamina. In December 1821, the 14th Chapter of the Book of Exodus was read aloud to a congregation of enslaved people who worked on sugar plantations across Demerara. One congregant in particular, Quamina was overwhelmed with emotions as heard the story of God committing supernatural acts to deliver the children of Israel from their captivity. Freedom had a melody and Quamina found it in Exodus 14.

Quamina’s emotions soon developed into a wholehearted commitment to Bethel Chapel, the church where had first heard Exodus 14. The church was founded by a group of pro-abolition members of the London Missionary Society. In the 1820s, John Smith, an apprenticed British baker turned radical Christian convert moved to Demerara to lead the congregation.

It was at Bethel Chapel that Quamina and his son Jack developed a deep awareness of the injustice of slavery. Quamina rose to the rank of a Deacon and served alongside Rev. Smith. From the pulpit, Rev Smith read scriptures about deliverance and freedom from captivity that resonated with his audience. With each sermon, the congregation grew larger and larger. More and more enslaved people from the sugar plantations filled the chapel, and many of them learned to read and memorize what they were hearing.

The Bible, a text that many mainland Britons had begun to grow disillusioned with during the Enlightenment era, gained traction in Britain’s sugar colony. However, each hearer of the Bible came to their own conclusions. Quamina’s son, Jack developed his own interpretations as he listened in the pews at Bethel Chapel.

Where his father was moved towards grief and hope at the reading of scripture, Jack was moved toward indignation. For Jack, the Bible contained stories not just of the deliverance of a captive people, but of those same people taking up arms to get to the Promised Land. Jack followed in his father’s footsteps and became a teacher at Bethel Chapel, but unlike his father’s gentle spirit, he taught with a fire in his belly.

As Jack’s fiery spirit spread across the congregation, Quamina gently attempted to quench his son’s increasing resentment, but soon it reached a tipping point. In 1832, the British parliament adopted a resolution to ameliorate the conditions of enslavement in the colonies with the end goal of abolition. However, the Governor of Demerara and the White planter population refused to adopt the resolution. If slavery was abolished, there would be no more free labor to produce Demerara sugar, plantations would go bankrupt, and wealth would be lost. The stakes were high.

Nonetheless, news of the resolution got back to Bethel Chapel’s enslaved population. Enough was enough. Thousands of enslaved people began protesting, arming themselves with plantation tools and makeshift weapons to not only defend themselves, but a very simple idea. A handful of British planters should not harbor the destiny of thousands of enslaved people. Suddenly, the weekly sermons on Exodus 14 — the deliverance of the children of Israel from Egypt had new meaning. The protesters had identified their Pharaoh and they were ready to deliver themselves.

The Demerara Uprising has stood out to historians as a largely non-violent protest by enslaved people. Compared to similar uprisings in the 19th century, the Demerara uprising was notable for the protestors’ profound level of restraint. The protestors, many of whom were members of Bethel Chapel, gathered up dozens of plantation overseers in barns and stocks offering not even an ultimatum, but a set of choices: grant full emancipation to the enslaved population or at the very least allow them to rest on the Sabbath.

The British response was swift and brutal. The colonial militia stormed the colony to regain control killing nearly 200 black people in the process. Quamina and his son Jack became fugitives overnight. Rev. John Smith and nearly every sermon he ever preached to his congregation was put on trial. He preached mercy but received none himself. At the end of his trial, Smith was declared guilty alongside 33 other enslaved insurrectionists and executed. Their bodies were displayed as a warning for all to see— a sacrifice at the altar of the British Empire.

The British found Quamina, a day before Rev. John Smith’s trial, and shot him dead. Though he could no longer defend himself, British authorities searched Quamina. No weapons were found on him except a bible tucked away in his pocket. As they inspected this contraband, they found a dog earmark on Joshua 8. Their eyes glossed over verses about a man named Joshua leading a community of freed slaves in conquering the King of Ai in pursuit of the Promised Land.

Unlike Joshua, Jack was unable to lead his people into the Promised Land. Jack was taken alive and dragged to the stand to face trial. While many of the men he instigated were executed, Jack escaped death. Instead, he was exiled to St. Lucia as his father’s body was brandished in Demerara to shame and torment the remaining enslaved population.

Demerara was not just a place where sugar was grown, cultivated, and processed by enslaved hands. It was a place where enslaved families found hope in the midst of unjust circumstances. It was a place where an inexperienced missionary and evangelist ignited a flame in his congregation. It was a place where a father tried to control the vengeance of his son while also protecting him from the vengeance of the British Empire. More than just a name, Demerara sugar represents a piece of British history that is largely hidden behind the teas, cakes, and pastries that rely on its use.

Until next time,

Hi! My name is Shae and I am a PhD candidate in History at Harvard University. I write weekly newsletters about history, culture, and art. If there’s a topic you’re curious about and would like to know more– send me a DM on Instagram over at @shaethehistorian

Further Reading

Joshua Bryant, Account of an Insurrection of the Negro Slaves in the Colony of Demerara, which broke out on the 18th of August, 1823. Guyana: A. Stevenson, 1824.

John Coffey, “‘A Bad and Dangerous Book’?: The Biblical Identity Politics of the Demerara Slave Rebellion.” In Chosen Peoples, 29–54. Manchester University Press, 2020.

Karen King-Aribisala, The Hangman's Game. (United Kingdom: Peepal Tree, 2007).