After the statue of Edward Colston, the slave trader and philanthropist, was ripped down and thrown in Bristol harbour last week, Black Lives Matter protesters soon settled on a new target - the controversial effigy of Cecil Rhodes in Oxford. They revive a longstanding debate about whether we should continue to display monuments of this imperialist in a diverse and multi-ethnic Britain.
Of course, we should examine the lives of complex historical figures, particularly those whom we now regard as morally reprehensible. But that is not what is happening here. Instead, we are witnessing the expansion of a simplistic, yet deeply pernicious idea that if we only removed, censored or reinterpreted parts of our past, that the problems of the present might be lessened. In reality, these largely superficial acts are poor substitutes for building a coherent political programme to address current social ills in a meaningful way.
History is complex; it’s a story of triumph, horror, conquest and courage. Protesters’ attempts to edit history along contemporary moral lines suggest a profound arrogance and hubris. Not only do they assume that we as a generation may claim some unique moral authority, they reduce history to a game of oneupmanship and self-aggrandisement.
I could find a reason to pull down almost any statue of any historical figure in this country if I dug deep enough into their lives, because they would by their very nature reflect the past, with its different values and mores. But where would it end? Should we purge our libraries of books written by morally reprehensible individuals too? No - to do so would be childish; for they too are part of the human story. And no adult can hope to navigate the world successfully if they lack the maturity to face the realities of our past.
It is telling that even Zimbabwe, which experienced first-hand the brutality of colonialism, has not removed its Rhodes monument. Yet Britain, which enjoys stable governance, prosperity and peace, insists on revisiting this debate - in the process deflecting attention away from the genuine injustices experienced by many in the UK and further afield.
Although he became a symbol of imperial expansion based on theories of white racial superiority, Cecil Rhodes was also a product of the society and ideas which shaped him. It is that society and time we should examine if we really want to understand his importance, rather than focusing on him as an individual – and actually not even him per se, but his effigy. These statues remind us of who we were but also who we have the potential to be. In many ways, they symbolise a triumph over the kind of thinking that birthed people such as Rhodes, since we now live in a radically different, more tolerant society.
Yet I particularly oppose the removal of Cecil Rhodes because I fear it would empower an unpleasant strand of contemporary politics; one that rules through the mob and deals in censorship and shame. This is not a climate for clarity of purpose and vision. It is a politics which elevates symbolic gestures over the slow and often arduous work involved in improving people’s lives. We will have to be much more ambitious if we are to confront the issues many of the protesters claim to care about.
I encourage the erection of more statues, museums, increasing the number of debate forums to place these historical figures under intellectual scrutiny. But on its own, this is no template for positive change. To change the world for the better in the long-term, we will have to reach across tribal lines and engage in constructive discourse, and negotiate change, openly and democratically. That’s a positive endeavour that builds consensus and brings a broad range of people along; not this irrational and aggressive myopia.
I do not want to swap one simplistic narrative about history for another. By all means, we should learn more about colonial history, but because history and knowledge are worth pursuing for their own sake. Rather than indulge in acts of nihilistic iconoclasm I suggest that, in trying to understand the past, we reflect on how we can move forward and build a more positive world, together.
Shockingly, some individuals are even now being investigated just for criticising the Black Lives Matter movement. This suffocating climate for free thought can never create mutual understanding, tolerance or respect.
Inaya Folarin Iman is a writer and Director of the Free Speech Union
For the sake of free thought and civilised debate, Rhodes Must Not Fall
The movement represents the worst kind of activism, and does nothing to improve present-day lives