Removing Statues: racism, values, anachronism and “hiding from history”

Equality campaigners have always wanted more history, not less. We should look more carefully into the past, they say, and see female, black, Asian and African writers, artists, musicians, and social protagonists, see nameless children, poor people, workers and peasants, as well as the more familiar canon of white, European, adult males. And they urge us to look more closely at individuals such as Edward Colston, Rudyard Kipling, and Winston Churchill.

Very striking, therefore, to hear these equality campaigners being accused of wanting to “hide”, “erase”, or “change” history by those seeking to retain the prominent public display of those with close links to colonialism, slavery and racism (e.g. Boris Johnson and Louise Richardson). Can this charge be upheld? To see why the answer is ‘no’, we need a little analysis.

But there is a deeper charge as well. That is of anachronism. The accusation is that equality campaigners invite us to judge individuals of the past by inappropriate standards — i.e. the standards that we hold today, rather than the standards that they could have been expected to recognise and uphold in their own day. This charge also rests on mistakes — but quite subtle ones.

With some bad arguments cleared out of the way, we will be able to see more clearly how to think about what statues to erect and retain in public spaces, and what other subtler strategies might be available in using statuary to get people to think more deeply about our troubled history.

What is history and how is it preserved?

History is preserved through (among other things) documents, oral traditions and artefacts that carry information about what happened in the past. In the periods we are principally concerned with (covering British colonialism and the trans-Atlantic slave trade), statues are not a significant source of historical information about those they represent. The life and work of Colston, Kipling, Churchill and others is mostly preserved in documentary evidence, photographs and the like.

So, is history preserved through these statues? No.

But does changing which statues are on public display “hide” history, or prevent its transmission? Again, of course, the answer is ‘no’. History is mostly passed on through books and TV programmes that can offer a historical narrative, present historical evidence of various kinds, and invite inquiry and questioning. Public display of statues can play a supporting role in this, through calling attention to particular people, movements and events. More of this later.

All history is selective. The way in which history is told reveals as much about the historian as about the things they are talking about. This is because we cannot deal with everything, we have to choose what to highlight as important. This reveals our values. When retelling Tudor history, should we concentrate on England or look more internationally? Should we concentrate on the aristocrats (mostly men) whose houses and portraits survive, or focus our attention on the lives of poorer folk whose names even may often not survive? Should we focus on people’s religious life, economic life, sexual behaviour, political activities, living conditions, clothes, diet, language, art, music, theatre or health? What we focus on reveals our values — i.e. what we consider to be important. We will consider below what kinds of messages statues convey, but one thing a statue does is it says, “this person is important”.

Distinguishing different questions about history.

Let’s distinguish some different questions we might ask about historical figures.

1. What did this person do? What activities or achievements were they involved in?
2. How well did this person behave (given their circumstances)?
3. How well did this person behave compared to others at the time?
4. How well did this person behave relative to the standards accepted by such-and-such a group at the time they lived?
5. How should we now assess the value of what they were involved in?

Question 1 covers a vast array of historical approaches. For any individual, they will have been involved in a large number of different things in their life, not just one thing. Some individuals combine some horrifically bad things (slave trading) with some good things (philanthropy) in a single life. Also: almost all significant achievements involve several people, not just one individual. Still, we celebrate Rosa Parks’ role in the Montgomery Bus Boycott, even though many others were involved, and we celebrate William Wilberforce’s role in the abolition of slavery despite the fact that this too was no individual achievement. A person can end up being a symbol or representative of a whole movement.

Questions 2, 3 and 4 are all about assessing a person from the perspective of their own time. How we answer them might depend importantly on which circumstances (Q2), which others (Q3), or which group (Q4) we regard as salient.

It is often those who focus predominantly on questions 2, 3 and 4, who complain that it is “anachronistic” to criticise Churchill for his racism, Rhodes or Kipling for their colonialism, or Colston for his participation in slavery. Their complaint is that these men are being “judged” by a standard that is inappropriate, given that it is (supposedly) not one that they could have been expected to recognise. One might worry about the latter assumption (could Churchill really not have been expected to reject racism, or Colston slavery?). But there is clearly something to this: it is certainly much harder to take a stand against something if everyone you know regards it as acceptable and normal. And ignorance — if itself blameless — can excuse. So let us concede the point for the sake of argument.

The best response is to highlight the importance of question 5, “How should we now assess the value of what they were involved in?”, and to distinguish it from the preceding questions. Even if it would be a mistake to “blame” Kipling, that would still not prevent us from being clear about our rejection of what Kipling was involved in. Insofar as these men were involved in racism, colonialism or slavery, we need to make sure that our references back to those men do not serve to applaud those as good things, nor would we want to imply that the wrongs involved were trivial or to be lightly brushed aside.

So, “what’s in a statue?” What kind of statement is being made when we put up, or retain a statue of a person such as Colston, Kipling, Rhodes or Churchill?

What statues of historical figures (usually) do.

Statues of this kind carry messages. Let’s start with simple cases. Some statues, like the ones near the cathedral in Stonetown, Zanzibar, criticise and condemn what they portray (the enslavement of African people — as they also convey and uphold the human dignity of the nameless Africans represented).

But most public statuary under discussion today serves to commend and celebrate the individuals represented. A statue of Churchill in Westminster is not just saying, “this guy existed”, but is commending Churchill as a great man (literally: the statue is 12’ tall!) to be admired today by those passing by. These statues convey commendation.

But it is more complex than that.

Just like with actual languages, the “language” of statuary can allow a gap between the intended message of the “speaker” and the message actually conveyed. In the case of statues, in fact, there is not just one “speaker”. There are the people who commissioned and erected the statue, there is the sculptor, and there are those today in charge of the space and the monument whose decision it is to keep each statue in its place of public display (decisions often answerable to us, the public). All of these different people might have intended slightly different things by the display of the statue. In the case of Churchill, let us suppose that those who originally commissioned, created and displayed the statue were intending to commend Churchill on the basis his dogged opposition to Nazism and his leadership of the nation in that cause. But of course, what someone intends to say is not the same as what they actually say. What this statue actually conveys is a commendation of Churchill. “Churchill — great man!” might be a rough ‘translation’. This may seem unproblematic to those in whose minds Churchill is associated only with resisting Hitler. But it is a much more problematic message when received by those aware of some of the other things Churchill was involved in, such as his racist views (e.g. derision of Gandhi), support for colonialism, the deaths of over 2 million Bengalis. To those aware of such things (Bengalis, for instance), the message of the statue, “Churchill — great man!”, is morally repugnant, implying either that these latter things were also great, or that they are unimportant and should be put aside so that we can focus on his positive achievements.

Perhaps in some cases, those who erected a statue gave little thought to issues that have now become prominent — for example, in the 1930s, Cecil Rhodes’ colonialism might have been so widely shared that it was not worthy of note, such that his educational philanthropy was what stood out about him. But that is no longer so. Cecil Rhodes’ association with Britain’s colonial past is now a very important aspect of his life’s endeavours. The statue’s meaning has in one way not changed — it is a commendation of Rhodes — but in another way it has changed, because we are now more keenly aware of Rhodes’s association with colonialism. And the audience has changed — perhaps there were few of African heritage in Oxford in the 1930s: there are many more today. We may not blame the fellows of Oriel College in the 1930s for erecting the statue, perhaps. But the issue now is whether to retain it, and whether “Cecil Rhodes — great man!” is an appropriate message to continue to proclaim today. Given Rhodes’ involvement in colonialist endeavours, it is impossible to commend him, as a public statue does, without also commending those endeavours. For that reason, I find the argument for taking it down pretty compelling.

Judging historical figures by “Anachronistic Standards”

It should already be clear why those proposing the removal of statues of individuals involved in e.g. colonialism, racism, or slavery, does not imply a judgement of historical figures by anachronistic standards. It does not — in an important sense — necessarily involve any judgement on those figures at all. The main basis for proposing the removal of someone’s statue from the public realm is not a judgement that they behaved badly, all things considered. Still less does it imply that they were worse than their peers. No. The need to remove statues is canvassed on the basis of what they convey today — i.e. an endorsement of the person, when the person (whatever their other merits) is known to have been involved in morally repugnant endeavours. The continued presence of the statue conveys endorsement of (or disregard for) those wrongs.

Wilhelm Kunz and Herbert Keller were no doubt brilliant scientists. But given the harms with which Thalidomide, their discovery, is associated, we do not celebrate them as “great men” by public statues. Doubtless they did not know (and could not perhaps have been expected to know) of the harms their discovery would inflict when given to pregnant women. Our reluctance to celebrate them need not imply any blame. It is simply that celebrating them would imply that we were denying or minimising those harms. We are not judging them by anachronistic or inappropriate standards, because — in an important sense — we’re not judging them at all.

What should we do about statues, then?

In some cases, it is very clear. Retaining public statues of some individuals unavoidably implies an intolerable commendation (or downplaying) of morally repugnant activities such as slavery. In those cases, we can just take the statues down. We also need to ensure that the overall effect of what is displayed in our public spaces reflects our values — so, the overall effect should not carry the implication that men, or white people are more important than women or BAME people. If our public spaces are to reflect our values in this way, that will undoubtedly require some changes, including taking down statues of some perfectly decent white men in order to make way for proper representation of women and a diversity of people.

But creative options may be possible too. Parliament Square in Westminster perhaps invites comparison and questioning by the ways in which some statues are placed near to others. Churchill there consorts not just with various fellow English male aristocrats from the preceding century, but with Abraham Lincoln, Mohandas ‘Mahatma’ Gandhi, Millicent Fawcett and Nelson Mandela. This may encourage comparisons between these individuals, similarities and differences between the ‘liberation’ they are celebrated for and the methods by which it was achieved, and perhaps the values exhibited in other parts of their lives. The close proximity of Churchill and Gandhi may cause some visitors to reflect on Churchill’s dealings with India and Gandhi’s with Britain, as well as on the dealings the two men had with one another. The aesthetics of the statues are suggestive too — Churchill’s heavy attire and power pose contrasts interestingly with Gandhi’s appearance, “half-naked” with thin legs, dhoti and homespun shawl. The juxtaposition seems to ask us, “what is power, and what is liberty, and how is each to be sought and used?” Being true to our values, and inviting deeper critical reflection on our (sometimes uncomfortable) history, need not always involve taking statues down. Putting more up might sometimes* give us a “better view” of those that were there already!

If this is right, Parliament Square already invites a rather chequered evaluation of Churchill, and is very far from giving him an unqualified commendation. But it is very subtly done and easily missed. Most visitors probably focus on the biggest, most dominant statue (Churchill), and see in it only commendation. So, people are likely still to disagree on whether the selection and arrangement of the statues in Parliament Square adequately reflects the right values, or betrays them.

There are many possibilities. Perhaps the statue in Bristol might have been augmented with a group of slaves underneath the tread of Edward Colston’s well-heeled boots. Churchill’s plinth might be carved with representations of starving Bengalis, or with a ladder showing his unusual view of the hierarchy of superior and inferior races. Those statues could then be retained, but they would be, as it were, “de-simplified” in their message. Such displays might be a mark of a nation at ease with looking honestly at its own history, willing to confront its complexity.

Of course, there is an issue about how we make the required changes. It looks as though there should be a strong presumption in favour of law-abiding, democratic means. But the shameful and systematic failures of our current civic mechanisms for regulating our public spaces suggests that urgent attention is require to make these fit-for-purpose.

Conclusions

Some of the conclusions here are simple. Where the individuals represented on statues were involved in significant moral wrongs, such as slavery, racism and colonialism, there will often be a compelling case for removing those statues from positions of honour in public spaces. That is because their continued presence conveys a commendation of the person that includes a commendation of (or a disregard for) those wrongs.

We also need to ensure that the balance of our public statuary reflects our values. If we believe (e.g.) that women are as important as men, we’d want our public spaces to be celebrating women and men in approximately equal numbers. Right away, that looks as though it is something that requires remedial action.

This view is based on the importance of our careful attention to history. The objections to this position on the basis that it somehow “hides” or “erases” history is simply misplaced — it does nothing of the sort. In fact, movements like Black Lives Matter are far greater advocates for attentiveness to history than are those who oppose them. And the objection that campaigners for equality today are applying anachronistic standards to figures in the past is likewise based on a misunderstanding. It misunderstands both how public statues function, and the grounds on which the removal or relocation of some statues is being proposed.

Thanks to my colleagues, Graham Bex-Priestley, Carl Fox, Tom Hancocks, Vincent Müller, and Christina Nick for advice on improving this article.

*availability of space may make the opportunities for using this kind of strategy very limited.

Image of the monument to slaves on Zanzibar is from https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Monument_to_slaves_in_Zanzibar.jpg