A Statue’s Place in History
Catherine Barrie
The end of a regime begins, not with the fall of a dictator, but with the toppling of his statue: how history is always cast in bronze.
Of all the statues in London, Nelson’s Column, The Duke of Wellington, The Victoria Memorial, one thing can be said; history is written by its winners—a history that is, quite literally, set in stone (or bronze). The authority of these artistically embalmed figures has forever dictated our views on how cultures see the past. Public art is the great constructor of historical victory, and to win, one must commission the work. It is the permanence of the material, how firmly stuck to the plinth a sculpture is, or how hard it is for someone to pull it down, that ensures the longevity of success, not the success itself. After all, the most enduring, long-lasting image of defeat is the toppling of a statue; a symbol of victory is defamed and becomes a stark symbol of failure.
The vandalism and destruction of statues can become rather meaningful. This is not to say statues of the defeated or of those symbolizing antiquated schools of thought should be torn down. On the contrary, they introduce a necessary dialogue. The Berlin Wall, a physical and metaphorical oppressive divide is now covered in unifying free thought; art by its own people which changed the narrative of history. It is no mystery that Berlin, the home of graffiti, used to be the home of fascism and communism; it is a reminder of the failure of despotism. The city of Berlin encourages street art in weaving the fabric of its turbulent history. The idea is that art from the grassroots have a chance to respond to state art. Writer, Deborah Feldman, once said of Berlin, “I see Berlin as the capital of the West; to me, it's a city where everyone can find a home, where everyone can find freedom, it's the last bastion against oppression.” Perhaps those who saw the trashing of the statues of slave owners in May 2020 as thuggish vandalism were slightly missing the point—the act of vandalism is the rebellion—not the cock and balls brandished on Cecil Rhode’s knickerbockers themselves. It is this act that symbolises the defeat of those who once did win. The discourse it creates challenges narratives that allow for a constant and critical questioning of the historical authority—an authority that Germany is not afraid to admit was wrong.
Germany does not hide its shame from its citizens. In what was East Berlin, a large USSR erected statue stands. A bronze Soviet tank drenches the pavement in an ominous shadow and in enormous Russian writing the monument reads: ‘Now all recognize that the Soviet people with their selfless fight saved the civilization of Europe from fascist thugs.’ ‘Fascist thugs’ sticks in your throat walking past. It is a declaration of German failure and Soviet triumph. It would be hard to imagine a monument of such in Trafalgar Square. There would be no place for it amongst all the effigies of victory and success. The monument comes across as Soviet-state-sponsored propaganda in the city of Berlin. Broken swastikas decorate the memorial and everywhere you look, you are reminded of the crushing of German fascism. Although the ideology of fascism is far from what the Germans champion now, the defeat of Germany is never forgotten in its own cities. A nation’s commemoration of failure and preservation of criticism seldom exists in such a fashion as exhibited by the Germans.
It is said that art is a construction of history, but is history not in turn a construction of art? For what do we have left of 1918 or 1945? The cenotaphs, the sculptures, the arches, and the plinths—the art. History, success, is a mere construction of selectively remembered events. One must be wary of statues and their meaning. To celebrate success is far easier than to remember failure. As the playwright, Alan Bennett once put it, “There is no better way of forgetting something than by commemorating it.”
https://www.berlinpoche.de/en/soviet-war-memorial-berlin-treptower-park
George Orwell and Alexander S. Peak, “As I Please,” The Tribune, 4 February 1944
http://alexpeak.com/twr/hiwbtw/
Alan Bennett, The History Boys, London: Faber and Faber, 2004.
https://www.newyorker.com/news/news-desk/the-fate-of-a-leg-of-a-statue-of-saddam-hussein
https://www.telegraph.co.uk/art/architecture/resurrected-fall-rise-disgraced-statues/