Today we ask if statues and monuments commemorate figures or eras; if they are historically valuable or symbols of pasts that deserve obliteration; and if by demolishing such statues we do indeed erase history.
During troubled times, amidst the fury that often beholds the beleaguered, an act of defiance manifests itself in the destruction of statues and monuments of those considered enemies or suppressors. Across history and lands at large, many monuments face this tragic end.
After ’56, the people of Port Said, incited by the Tripartite Invasion, pulled down the statue of Ferdinand De Lesseps, the developer of the Suez Canal. The statue stood at the entrance of the Suez Canal and had its right arm stretched indicating the open waterway towards the East. Today, the same statue sits in a shipyard in Port Said, neglected and utterly forgotten.
In 2002, in Firdous Square, a colossal statue, 12 metres high, was erected in celebration of Saddam Hussein’s 65th birthday. In 2003, after the US invasion, Iraqis wrapped a chain around the statue’s neck and pulled it down. After some stomping, they decapitated the statue and dragged it through the streets.
In 2015, at the University of Cape Town in South Africa, students removed a monument of colonialist Cecil Rhodes, protesting what the statue symbolized: historical white oppression. Rhodes was the initiator of racial segregation laws in South Africa.
And today in the US, nothing short of a mini uprising is occurring against Confederates and what their statues symbolize.
Way after the American Civil War, the war that abolished slavery, statues of Confederate leaders were erected. To many Americans, especially blacks, these statues were built to sustain the image of white supremacy beholding bigotry as a right and honouring partisanship.
To make amends and in response to the anger on American streets, officials in many states, in particular southern ones, are removing or covering many of the Confederate leaders’ statues.
But it is not only statues that are being removed around the world, once a leader is toppled, streets, schools, and institutions holding his name are renamed.
In Egypt, after January 25th, ex-President Mubarak and wife Suzanne’s names were removed off all public buildings and facilities. According to The Guardian, “hundreds, perhaps even thousands, of subway stations, schools, streets, squares and libraries across Egypt” had been renamed.
Another symbol of the past is Sir John A. Macdonald, Canada’s first prime minister, whose name appears on many public schools and on the airport of the country’s capital, and whose face appears on the Canadian $10 bill.
Today some consider him the founder of genocide against the Indigenous people of Canada. Though his name has not been removed yet, the idea is brewing as a motion was passed by an Ontario teachers union to do just that.
So how far do we go in erasing the past?
For starters, whether by naming an institution after him or by erecting his statue, commemorating a person is passé. Celebrating a country, its people, and its significant moments overrides celebrating a person. A time may come when a particular figurehead is scorned, but a country and its people will always be revered.
The monument known as Nahdet Masr, a masterpiece in its own right, will survive rulers, alliances, and enemies. The Sphinx and the peasant woman, together represent Egypt. She is uncovering her face symbolizing Egypt’s advancement, while her other hand lies over the Sphinx in protection of Egypt’s history, as the Sphinx rises on it front paws in intimidation to enemies. It is a treasure that will survive the times.
But what about existing statues? I agree that, to make amends and fix wrongs, statues of those who symbolize bigotry, racism, and tyranny must go, but I hope we don’t go too far in removing historical roots.
Thousands of monuments and statutes of Confederates leaders stand in universities and schools across the US. Will all be dismantled?
What about Mount Rushmore, the massive sculpture of four United States presidents? Though the four presidents depicted on the monument were immense contributors to the US that exists today, they all endorsed and accepted if not slavery, then at least dominance over blacks. Remember: the monument has become an iconic symbol of the US and is visited by over two million tourists every year.
A few days back, “Gone with the Wind,” the epic Hollywood movie of the 1940s, that has been watched by millions around the world, was deemed “insensitive,” for a larger segment of the audience in Memphis, Tennessee, as it glorifies slavery. The war on "Gone with the Wind" has started; chances are it won't be shown again.
This while in Egypt, black and white movies had the photos of King Farouk blackened as though King Farouk never existed. But he did whether some like it or not. However, the same act has not been applied on in-colour movies that included President Mubarak’s photos, a sign that we may have learned our lesson.
So where do we draw the line?
First, the fate of monuments and relics of the past must be decided by those who know enough about history to differentiate between what can be construed as offensive and what isn’t. It must not be left to mob vindictiveness that occurs on the streets and during moments of weakness.
Here is a good example. In South Africa, as apartheid disintegrated, the South African government removed many statues of apartheid-era leaders, but did not destroy them; rather it donated them to private heritage organizations. Many are now displayed in private museums and memorial gardens instead of open parks and government buildings.
South Africa’s government implemented another unique strategy; where there were significant statues, it preferred, instead of removing them, to erect new ones alongside the old ones. The aim was to exhibit a South Africa that encompasses all.
Let’s not throw the baby out with the bathwater. Rather than destroying the past, we should think of ways to preserve it, maybe less prominently, even if it isn’t to our personal liking. .
