I traveled to Amsterdam to meet with a potential business partner to distribute Faraday West Indies Rum in Europe. Since my rum broker and blender, E&A Scheer, is based here, it was a good opportunity to meet with them and observe how rum is marketed and perceived in Europe. I hadn’t anticipated my trip would turn into a journey through capital cities, uncovering clues about their colonial pasts, all seen through the lens of rum.

Rum’s Place in The Netherlands

The morning after visiting The Rum Barrel and Mama Makan, my sister and I met in the hotel lobby and headed out for coffee. The Rum Barrel, one of the best-stocked rum bars I’ve been to, impressed me with its laid-back atmosphere and well-crafted cocktails. I was disappointed that it didn’t highlight the Dutch connection to rum. The enthusiasm for rhum was evident in Paris, tied into the culinary culture and France’s historical and modern links to rum-producing regions like Tahiti, Réunion, and Martinique. In Amsterdam, it felt like rum was just another spirit.

With a few hours to spare before our train to The Hague, we explored Amsterdam's historic surroundings as I looked for clues to the Dutch role in the creation and spread of rum—a legacy steeped in commerce, global trade, and colonial ambition.

From Red-Light District to Stock Exchange: A Different Kind of Trade

The city was surprisingly active, given the late-night celebrations of Liberation Day. We passed the Portuguese Synagogue and the Botanical Gardens as streets were scrubbed and outdoor markets assembled. Crossing the Bushuissluis bridge, we approached the East India House, once the Dutch East India Company (VOC) headquarters and gateway into the De Wallen neighborhood—known to most as the Red-Light District. Remnants of the night were still visible here—broken glass, the smell of beer and urine—but the street sweepers were already at work. Today, this area is famous for its marijuana shops and legalized prostitution, but 400 years ago, it was the birthplace of modern finance. Joint-stock companies, limited liability corporations, insurance, equity shares, trading, futures, options, and short-selling were pioneered at the Amsterdam Stock Exchange, located a few blocks away.

Rum and Coffee: The Dutch Don’t Pick Favorites

When we reached the café my sister had picked out, De Koffieschenkerij, we found ourselves on the grounds of the Oude Kerk (Old Church), the city’s oldest building, dating back to the 13th century. The café blended a warm, timeless ambiance with sleek, modern touches, featuring wooden furniture, vintage decor, and large windows that offered views of the churchyard. Its menu consisted of coffee, tea, homemade cakes, and sandwiches.

While we sat at a table in the courtyard with our coffees, I began to understand the Dutch relationship to rum. Rum, like coffee, is a commodity the Dutch globalized centuries ago but not an emblem of national identity. Amsterdam played a significant role in developing global markets for coffee, yet it also goes largely unheralded. In 1616, a Dutch merchant smuggled coffee trees from Yemen to Amsterdam. He had them planted at the Botanical Gardens, where they thrived in the greenhouse environment. From here, coffee arabica spread to Java, Sumatra, and the Americas.

Dutch Ambition in the Sugar World

The Dutch expanded their trade empire to the Americas in 1621 with the initial public offering of the Dutch West India Company (WIC). The WIC aimed to seize Spanish and Portuguese territories in the Atlantic world and capitalize on the lucrative sugar plantation economies. In Brazil, they thrived for a while, aided by Sephardic Jews (many with family ties back in Amsterdam) who welcomed the more tolerant Dutch. Here, they learned how to run sugarcane plantations and produce cachaça. Cachaça, a cousin of rum, has roots in Brazil dating back to 1523. Before that, the Portuguese distilled alcohol from sugarcane juice at their Madeira plantations, known as aguardiente.

1654: Rum Goes Viral

However, the Dutch struggled to maintain these lands. Unlike the Spanish, Portuguese, French, and English, the Dutch—enjoying a high standard of living at home—lacked enough citizens willing to endure the harsh conditions in Brazil or New Netherland (modern-day New York). When the Portuguese ousted the Dutch from Brazil in 1654, Dutch planters and merchants, including Sephardic Jews, dispersed across the Caribbean and North America, spreading their knowledge of the sugar plantation industry.

At this time, the WIC and other private Dutch merchants pivoted from building colonies to acting as financiers and shippers to other European nations colonizing the Americas. In places like Barbados and Martinique, the Dutch helped lay the foundations of the sugar industry.

In its early years, Barbados struggled with cultivating tobacco and cotton, relying on indentured servants from the British Isles. A turning point came in 1637 when Pieter Blower, a Dutchman, introduced sugarcane from Dutch plantations in Brazil. After the Dutch were expelled from Brazil, a diaspora settled in Barbados, further fueling the island's sugar industry. By 1655, Dutch capital and technology had led to the construction of the first windmill, with over 500 eventually built. The Dutch WIC provided financial services, insurance, shipping, and enslaved Africans, shaping Barbados's social and economic landscape.

Around 250 Sephardic Jews fleeing persecution in Brazil settled in Martinique, bringing valuable knowledge of sugarcane cultivation that soon became central to the island's economy. They were likely distilling a sugarcane-based spirit like cachaça well before "rhum agricole" became synonymous with Martinique in the 19th century. Within 50 years of their arrival, King Louis XIV issued a decree expelling Jews from the island. Though the decree was largely ignored and poorly enforced, the Jewish contribution to Martinique’s economy—particularly in introducing sugar and rum—has often been overlooked.

The word "rum" was first recorded in 1654 in the Public Records of the Colony of Connecticut, where it appeared alongside the term "kill-devil," according to the Oxford English Dictionary. However, evidence suggests that "rum" may have been used as early as 1650 in a lease agreement for the Three House Plantation in Barbados. The appearance of the word in Connecticut's records—originating from a contested colony where English Puritans were encroaching on Dutch New Netherland—suggests it may have entered the English language via Dutch influence, much like words such as "iceberg," "boss," and "cookie." Theories about the etymology of "rum" vary, with some linking it to the English term "rumbullion" (meaning tumult or uproar), the Dutch "roemer" (a type of drinking glass), or even the Malay "brum," (a sugarcane-based distillate).

By the late 1600s, Dutch influence in the Caribbean waned as the British and French empires expanded. Britain’s Navigation Acts and the Anglo-Dutch naval wars blocked Dutch sea access, while the French harassed them on land. Ever pragmatic, the Dutch ceded control of New Netherland to the British and shifted their focus to Suriname, a sugar colony, and the lucrative trade in the East Indies, leaving the territorial competition in the Americas to larger European powers.

The Dutch Golden Age ended just as rum was born and the New World’s myths were being created. Rum became synonymous with the British Navy, which would rule the waves for the next century, with rum rations fueling generations of sailors in their empire-building endeavors. The Anglo narrative of the Dutch success in this era would later be reduced to cautionary tales of greed and financial recklessness, epitomized by the overblown narrative of Tulip Mania. The Dutch were caricatured in London as boozy, penny-pinching know-it-alls with phrases like "Dutch courage," "Dutch treat," and “Dutch uncle.”

Today, museums in the Netherlands no longer use the term "Dutch Golden Age." The period of Dutch ascendancy and cultural flourishing has been rebranded to… “The 17th Century.” Now, that is Dutch bluntness. The word change acknowledges that the war, forced labor, and human trafficking that accompanied the prosperity in The Netherlands during that century wasn’t "golden” for all those involved. Museums like the Tropenmuseum (Tropics Museum), once called the Colonial Museum, now explore the global impact of Dutch imperialism more critically. The evolution of its name over the years provides insights into the Dutch psyche and its approach to addressing its history.

A City of Symbols: The Dutch Trade Legacy

We left the Oude Kerk and walked through Dam Square towards the flower markets of Singel Canal. While modern Dutch society wrestles with its colonial past, traces of The Netherlands’ role in globalization remain visible. Many of these narrow canal houses with gabled façades tell past stories, with sculpted reliefs depicting ships, captains, and enslaved people. One home at Keizergracht 419 has painted images of sugarcane, barrels, and weighing scales—a clear sign that whoever lived here was involved with the sugar and rum trades.

While rum may not hold a solid cultural place in the Netherlands today, its historical role in the sugar trade is clear. For the Dutch, the sugar trade was just one of many commodities that fueled their economy. They weren’t attached to the products themselves—they shipped them, took their cut, and moved on. This detachment from products like rum perhaps makes it easier for the Netherlands to deal with the darker aspects of its colonial past, including the exploitation tied to sugar, cotton, coffee, cacao, and spices.

While the Netherlands may have lost out to Spain, Portugal, France, and Britain in establishing lasting American colonies, the Dutch held a significant role in shipping and trade throughout the region by maintaining Suriname and their Antilles islands. Even without Dutch flags flying over vast territories, their influence persisted through commerce—particularly when others were at war. During the American Revolution, the Dutch were more than willing to finance and arm the fledgling American nation, further cementing their position as critical global trade and finance players.

The legacy of Dutch trade continues today. Millions of gallons of rum still flow through Amsterdam, much passing through E&A Scheer, one of the world’s largest rum blenders and distributors, supplying brands globally. This reflects the enduring Dutch approach to commerce: prioritizing efficiency, scale, and global reach over cultural dominance or colonial conquest.

Blending Cultures: Faraday’s Caribbean Roots Meet European Tastes

As we left the narrow streets of the canal zone and prepared to catch our train, I felt a sense of connection. The city, once the heart of a vast empire, now serves as a quieter hub for the global spirits trade, continuing its tradition of moving commodities like coffee, tea—and rum. Faraday West Indies Rum, rooted in the Caribbean but shaped by this global flow, is part of that story. Whether Faraday expands into Europe remains to be seen. Still, its blend of Barbados, Martinique, and Dominican rums could strike a chord with the European palate—even as each market brings its own unique understanding of what rum is.

Author Owen Hyland founded Faraday West Indies Rum and lives in New Hampshire.

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Rum Through The Tulips: The Empire on Which Rum Never Set: Part III