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Vandalizing Tainted Commemorations

2020; Wiley; Volume: 48; Issue: 2 Linguagem: Inglês

10.1111/papa.12162

1088-4963

Chong‐Ming Lim,

Law in Society and Culture

What should we do about “tainted” public commemorations—commemorations of people who were responsible for injustice, or commemorations of injustice?1 Recent campaigns to remove commemorations of historical oppressors—notably, for instance, those of Cecil Rhodes in South Africa and the United Kingdom, or Confederate soldiers in the United States—have brought this question to the fore. Two opposing views currently dominate public discussions. According to one, tainted commemorations should not be removed, even though they are connected to injustice. This view is often supported by claims about the importance of preserving our history rather than eliminating aspects of it that we now find repugnant or offensive. According to the other, tainted commemorations should be removed if they are connected to injustice. This view is frequently supported by claims about the relatively greater importance of eliminating the negative impact of tainted commemorations on members of formerly oppressed groups, in terms of their self-respect or social standing. There are many other responses to the initial question, inter alia, adding contextualizing information, relocating the commemorations, housing them in museums, or installing “counter” commemorations. These suggestions are often taken, overly quickly, as sensible or plausible in virtue of their occupying the ground between the two dominant views. There appears to be a paucity of philosophical discussions on how we should treat tainted commemorations. Existing discussions of commemorations center on commemorative activities rather than commemorative artifacts, which include memorials or statues, along with flags and other symbols, among other things. Moreover, the discussion of such activities has tended to focus on the nature of the ethical or moral demand to remember the past, and its weight relative to our other commitments.2 Answering these questions, however, leaves open the question of what we should do about commemorations of people or events that are now regarded as connected to injustice. Even the claim that we may not commemorate injustice does not help us to address our initial question. While it may rule out establishing commemorations of immoral conduct, or those which express abhorrent values,3 it does not tell us what to do about commemorations that already exist, the appropriate treatment of which are subject to the demands of historical memory. Moreover, it neglects the possibility that existing tainted commemorations may be subject to processes (of contextualization, and so on) such that the views they express are repudiated, and which may then further the aims of eliminating or mitigating injustice. Indeed, these are the possibilities that are repeatedly referred to by those who criticize the attempts by activists to remove tainted commemorations. My aims in this article are twofold. The first aim is to clarify the nature of commemorations and the disagreements about their treatment. In Section II, I argue that commemorations can be tainted in more ways than is commonly assumed. In Section III, I clarify the positions for and against removing commemorations, and argue that they are less naive than has been assumed. The second aim is to offer a qualified defense of vandalizing tainted commemorations in some circumstances. This is an option that has not been adequately considered within philosophical and public discourse. I argue that such political actions can constitute a plausible way of treating such commemorations, and which effectively negotiates the demands of the two opposing views. This defense comprises two parts. In Section IV, I assess the suggestions to establish counter-commemorations and to add contextualizing information, in terms of how well they satisfy the demands of the two opposing views. I argue that while these responses are not ruled out in principle, they are often beset with difficulties. In Section V, I argue that a suitably constrained vandalism of tainted commemoration can succeed in satisfying the demands of the two opposing views and in addressing these difficulties. I conclude in Section VI. Commemorations are a way in which a community takes its past seriously. They acknowledge the importance of a certain person or event (and often the values that undergird them) for the community. They feature in the stories that the community (or at least part of it) tells about its past and how that past relates to the present identity of the community. They express its values, beliefs, ideals, and relations with other communities.4 Commemorations, then, are composite—they are remembrances of certain people or events, accompanied by the expression of some evaluative view (or views). While commemorations typically valorize or celebrate important persons or events (along with the values they defended or promoted, and the ideals they aspired to), they need not be so. Commemorations may also present certain persons or events as the subject of communal lamentation or regret—as, for instance, is the case of the Vietnam Veterans Memorial Wall in Washington, DC, which somberly commemorates those who died in a war that was more tragic than triumphant. Commemorations are typically established in well-trafficked public spaces, and especially in those with significance (such as state buildings), where they can be seen by many people, and the views they express widely promulgated.5 Commemorations can be “tainted” in different ways. Within philosophical and public debates, there is a common assumption that the problem with tainted commemorations lies in the inappropriateness of their targets. That is, persons or events have been commemorated which are not truly important to the community, or which are morally repugnant. To this, we may add that commemorations can also be tainted when appropriate targets of commemoration have been neglected. An example is illustrative. Consider, again, the Vietnam Veterans Memorial Wall. Even if we suppose that the target of this commemoration is appropriate, it nonetheless does not commemorate those who played other crucial roles during the war—such as American nurses or soldiers from allied nations, including the South Vietnamese, who fought in the war. In doing so, it may fail to express the appropriate attitude toward the contribution and sacrifice of these individuals, and may present them as though they were not important enough for commemoration.6 Insofar as we think that these individuals are also appropriate targets of commemoration, neglecting them taints the existing commemoration. Commemorations can also be tainted when the process of their establishment is improper.7 One way this can be so is if the commemorations are established without fair consultation or deliberation. Without providing a full account of fairness, we can say, abstractly, that one necessary condition of fair consultation or deliberation is that the participants enter it as equals. Situations in which the views of some members of a community are neglected, dismissed, or suppressed during the process of determining who or what to commemorate are, typically, clear cases of unfairness. In such situations, these individuals are not regarded as equal members of the community, at least with respect to their standing as equal participants in collective commemorative endeavors to narrate their society's past.8 Another way is if the state adopts a prejudiced endorsement of different commemorators and commemorations. Even if there is fair consultation or deliberation for the establishment of existing commemorations, it is still problematic if the state allocates prominent and prestigious sites to the commemorations of only one group in the community but not to others. For instance, even if there were to be proportional numbers of commemorations of black and white Americans in a community, commemorations of white American heroes may still be considered tainted if they were the recipients of such prejudiced state endorsement.9 Recall that the two dominant views about the treatment of commemorations are that they should be preserved and that they should be removed. At this level of presentation, the views appear crude and are indeed often regarded as such. Little philosophical attention has been brought to bear on examining them. The aim of this section is to elaborate and clarify these views, and to show that they are less naive than has been assumed. My discussions in this section will engage with a specific and ongoing dispute about commemorations of Cecil Rhodes in the United Kingdom. Despite the narrow focus, I take it that the arguments are generalizable, with some work, to disagreements about other commemorations. One of the activists' demands is for commemorations of Cecil Rhodes be removed. Rhodes was a British imperialist and white supremacist who served as the Prime Minister of the Cape Colony from 1890 to 1896. His government introduced laws that drove black South Africans off from their lands and disenfranchised them. These were important precursors of the apartheid in South Africa. Despite his actions, Rhodes was commemorated at various times and places, one of which takes the form of a life-sized statue at Oriel College, University of Oxford, where he was a student, and to which he donated generously. Taking down the statue would be a momentous gesture, demonstrating some commitment to rectifying and atoning the colonial past; it will be a recognition that the welfare of BME [Black and Minority Ethnic] students—for whom colonialism is a deeply painful history—truly matters.11 At first sight, it appears that the university can demonstrate its commitment in other ways besides removing the statue. For instance, the relevant information about Rhodes' actions (and the repudiation of them) could be integrated into the university curriculum—perhaps in the form of a mandatory introductory class that all students must take. Removing the statue appears to be simply one way of demonstrating such commitment, and not the only way. Because of this, some have claimed that the activists are choosing the “easy option” by focusing on statues rather than the “real” or more important issues which we need commitment to—such as the continued underrepresentation of minorities in universities and leadership roles, the entrenchment of privilege, or widening inequalities.12 However, this characterization fails to explain the urgency of the activists' demand to remove the commemoration. It simply dismisses them as being mistaken about the commemoration's importance; it is uncharitable. We should take seriously the activists' argument that removing the statue would be a recognition that the welfare of minority ethnic students truly matters. Unfortunately, this claim is often characterized as a demand for “safe spaces” where they can be shielded from any offense and discomfort. For instance, the chancellor of the university urged activists to embrace debate, or to “think about being educated elsewhere.” The vice-chancellor of the university said that the “cosseted” students would benefit from hearing different opinions, and that “an Oxford education is not meant to be a comfortable experience.”13 According to this characterization, the activists' demands are due simply to weaknesses in their characters or personalities—they are overly sensitive or fragile, and unable to cope with the challenges that constitute a rigorous education. This characterization is often used to support the dismissals of the activists' claims as unimportant. We should resist trivializing the activists' claims in this manner. A more charitable reading is possible. Recall that the commemoration is tainted partly due to its failure to commemorate appropriate targets, or to include them in the process of commemoration. Some people (from minority ethnic groups) were, at the point of establishment of the commemoration, viewed as not important enough—both as targets of commemoration and as members of the community whose views were important to consider. Activists claim that this view about historically oppressed groups of people still undergirds how the university is run, in terms of the gross underrepresentation of members of these groups in the student and faculty bodies, and in the Eurocentric content of the university curriculum. According to activists, “the past is not in the past but is still determining existing patterns of behaviour.”14 Seen in this context, the commemoration of Rhodes (along with the decisions of the relevant authorities that allow the commemoration to persist) is not innocuous. It is not simply that it expresses a disrespectful view about members of certain groups but also that the view has social power, in terms of how the institution operates. If so, the view and its expression are no longer simply disrespectful, but also threatening—specifically, to their status as equal members of the community, and to their self-respect.15 In contrast, a disrespectful view expressed in the absence of an existing unjust social hierarchy between white and non-white people would not be similarly threatening. Insofar as self-respect is an important good and constituent of well-being, we have a reason to remove threats to them—and thus for removing the tainted commemoration. Of course, the self-respect of members of these groups may be secured in other ways—for instance, and as suggested earlier, through modifications to the curriculum. However, the good of self-respect is secured in a diffuse way—relying for its formation and sustenance on the existence of supporting conditions in many different aspects of social life.16 Even self-respect which is generally secured in many areas is threatened by the expressions and endorsement of disrespectful views in highly localized contexts. Importantly, self-respect is not fully secured for some members of a community when there are commemorations that honor or celebrate the architects of the injustice to which they are subject. Such commemorations introduce uncertainties about whether the community genuinely and fully respects and regards members of a certain group as equals. This uncertainty constitutes insecurity in the sources of their self-respect. It is in recognizing this, that we better understand the fixity of the activists' demand to remove the tainted commemoration. It is best understood as a demand to secure self-respect. On the other hand, the demand to preserve commemorations of Rhodes centers on the importance of historical memory.17 It is generally recognized that we have some ethical or moral reasons or even duties to remember the past. These reasons or duties are variously grounded. For instance, we may have a reason for remembrance in virtue of our being responsible for, or having benefitted from, wrongdoings, and where the remembrance is plausibly understood as a way through which those wrongdoings are rectified.18 Remembrance may also be grounded in our concern with not repeating historical wrongdoing.19 It may also be grounded by our interests in sustaining our relations with others,20 or in its value for individuals' lives going well, or for the civic health of a community.21 Regardless of its grounds, the importance of remembrance is not generally denied. What is at stake, however, is not simply the reasons we have to remember the past. Instead, it concerns how the reasons we have for remembrance are connected to the reasons we have for preserving tainted commemorations. In our context, it appears that we may remember Rhodes for all that he did, and stood for, by integrating such information and evaluations into our history textbooks. Remembrance may even succeed despite mass removal of material commemorations. For instance, Germany is often regarded as mostly having succeeded in remembering the Nazi atrocities even though most physical relics of the Nazi regime were removed after the Second World War. An explanation, then, is needed to bridge the gap between remembrance and preservation. the campaign to eradicate Rhodes from our consciousness was in many ways a foolish enterprise, which probably did more harm to our understanding of history (and capacity to argue with it and take a different stance) than the campaigners will admit.22 This characterization of the activists appears to be implausibly exaggerated. Surely, one may think, the campaign to remove commemorations of Rhodes falls far short of eradicating him from our consciousness. Success in the former neither constitutes, nor necessarily leads to, the latter. We may be tempted, on this basis, to dismiss Beard's characterization. Yet this characterization appears with some frequency. Historian David Cannadine presents such campaigns as attempting to obliterate painful and offensive figures from the historical record.23 Will Hutton, the principal of Hertford College, Oxford, cautions against expunging Rhodes from history.24 Historian R. W. Johnson describes the campaign as erasing history in a way similar to the iconoclasm of Al Qaeda and Islamic State.25 Historian Roy Strong describes the campaign as attempting to rewrite history.26 And so on. I do not want to explain these statements as simply due to reasoning errors, to failures to understand activists' claims or take them seriously, or even to ulterior motivations masquerading as a neutral concern with history.27 Instead, I suggest that we understand these statements as being undergirded by two requirements concerning our dealings with the past—it must be public and incorporated. Elaborating these requirements clarifies the character of preservationists' opposition to activists' demand to remove tainted commemorations, and shows why their position could be a plausible response to such commemorations. According to the publicity requirement, we must reckon with our past in a public manner rather than concealing it. An example of such concealment would be if the commemoration is removed and no longer seen or thought about by members of the public. When there is no longer any interaction with the tainted commemoration, it becomes sensible to say that the memory of the commemoration has been erased from public consciousness. The publicity requirement sets a moderate constraint on our treatment of tainted commemorations. While it prevents us from destroying commemorations or keeping them in permanent storage, it allows us to move them to other public locations—including museums. In some circumstances, doing so may address the problems arising from their occupying (under the auspices of the authorities) a prominent or prestigious public location relative to other commemorations. The preservationists cited, however, do not entertain the possibility of relocating commemorations to museums. Their reluctance derives, I suggest, from a second requirement. According to the incorporation requirement, events, persons, and actions of historical significance should be incorporated into our everyday consciousness and understanding of our history and identities. An example illustrates the point. Ordinary British citizens are likely able to recount—though perhaps only in general terms—the contribution of the soldiers (who fought in the World Wars) to their society. There is a general consciousness and understanding of how the world they have inherited has been shaped by the actions (especially sacrifice) of these individuals. This is supported by various sources. While education in schools is important, the annual Remembrance Day and the existence of many war commemorations (including the naming of streets) dotting the landscape are also critical—they provide occasions for, and moreover facilitate, citizens' remembrance. These commemorations “allow a certain vision of the past to be incorporated into the everyday settings and activities of the city.”28 There is also a general appreciation (and often endorsement) of the values—especially courage or loyalty—that undergirded or guided the soldiers' actions. These are understood as values that the community—including individuals themselves—deems important and worthy of celebration. In this case, we may say of these events, persons, and actions that they are incorporated into individuals' everyday consciousness and understanding of their history and identities.29 With this, we may identify two related considerations against relocating commemorations to museums. First, moving them to museums—which are spaces that individuals have to make a conscious effort to enter—eliminates an everyday occasion for remembrance. Individuals no longer confront or interact with the events, persons, or actions being commemorated in their everyday activities. Second, moving commemorations to museums may obscure the fact that at some point the values that undergirded the targets of commemoration were regarded by members of their community as important and worthy of celebration. The underlying worry, then, is that moving commemorations to museums may be accompanied by a diminution of the significance of the targets of commemoration in people's everyday consciousness and understanding, eventually resulting in individuals forgetting them. These considerations bridge the gap, identified earlier, between reasons for remembrance and preservation. They show how our interests in remembrance are supported by preserving tainted commemorations, and potentially frustrated by their relocation or removal. A reconstruction of what could be the preservationists' ideal scenario illustrates how the worry plays out in the context of the commemoration of Rhodes. Rhodes' actions, and the values that undergirded them, should ideally be part of the everyday consciousness and understanding of members of the community, of their own history and identities. They should be able to recount—even if only in general terms—how Rhodes' actions have influenced their society, and how the actions of ordinary people during his time contributed to his projects. There should also be a general understanding of the fact that ordinary people of Rhodes' time shared the values that undergirded his actions. Not only did they not regard those actions (or their own contributions to them) as abhorrent, they regarded them as worthy of celebration. Finally, there should be various occasions for people to remember those actions. When citizens' everyday consciousness and understanding are constituted this way, they cannot (and do not) turn away from the fact that they have inherited a world that has been shaped by the injustices caused by their forebears. This increase in the accuracy of historical understanding may facilitate citizens' owning up to the negative aspects of what they have inherited.30 Additionally, citizens recognize that responsibility for or complicity in injustice is not something that only those with deformed characters or states-of-mind—“moral monsters,” as it were—engage in. Instead, people can cause injustice by engaging in ordinary or even socially valorized activities. Those who caused injustice may also have, as with Rhodes, made other morally valuable contributions to society. This may prompt further reflections about whether these citizens themselves are, here and now, behaving in ways that sustain injustice. In this ideal scenario, the commemorations serve as constant and everyday reminders for people to engage in such reflections, to remain vigilant, and to do better.31 When presented thus, we see what the preservationists regard as being at stake with relocating the commemoration to a museum. It risks the loss of historical accuracy, the denial of responsibility, and the opportunity to do better. The preservationists appear to have taken the incorporation requirement as ruling out the reduction of everyday occasions for remembrance, or against introducing obstacles to it more generally. In sum, it is in light of the two requirements that we better understand the seemingly exaggerated claims of the preservationists. They are best understood as being undergirded by a deeper concern with and demand concerning how we engage with the past, and how such engagements are affected by our treatment of commemorations. It is a common assumption (especially in public debates) that the opposing views—in virtue of the fixity of their demands—are naive. This assumption is often accompanied by unarticulated refusals to take the views seriously, or refusals to articulate their possible grounds. As we have seen, however, these views are not naive. Instead, their demands are grounded by deeper concerns. Activists seek to secure self-respect by removing the threats to them posed by tainted commemorations. Preservationists seek to secure public engagement with the past which is incorporated into people's everyday consciousness and understanding. Clearly setting out the grounds of their demands may help both sides better understand their opponents and resist the temptation to dismiss them. It also allows us to take a step forward in resolving their disagreement. Indeed, even with the brief discussion, we see more clearly that there are many possible ways of tackling the disagreement. For instance, we may attempt to directly address the arguments made by proponents of either view, to qualify or constrain their demands. In response to activists, we may challenge their accounts of when self-respect is genuinely threatened, of the significance of removing tainted commemoration, or of the duties of states or corporate entities to address such threats. In response to preservationists, we may challenge the relationship between preservation and remembrance, or the stringency with which the publicity and incorporation requirements have been construed. These may reveal the existence of options other (or better) than those which are proposed by the parties. I do not rule out these options (or others which I have not considered) in principle, nor do I take a stand on their plausibility. Instead, I begin from the observation that proponents of the two opposing views have each grounded their arguments in something of value—self-respect and remembrance. These values are distinct and not always reducible to each other. My aim, then, is to identify and defend a response to tainted commemorations that would be acceptable, in principle, to adherents of both views. Such a response would have to satisfy two desiderata—it must remove the threat to the self-respect of some members of the community, while not reducing everyday occasions for remembrance. If successful, this response would protect both things of value. This strategy may also be supported by a weaker pragmatic consideration. Disagreements about what to do with the relics of an unpalatable past have arisen in different times and contexts. These disagreements are often similarly configured—between those who seek to remove those relics and those who seek to preserve them.32 This gives us some reason to think that the two positions are tracking a stable divide in people's attitudes and priorities, such that the disagreements are unlikely to go away anytime soon. If so, and given that both sides are on to something of value, we might as well try a different approach to the disagreement—by attempting to locate a “middle” position that adherents of both views can find acceptable. Briefly considering a recent attempt to tackle the disagreement between adherents of both views clarifies my strategy. In support of the claims of activists, Johannes Schulz argues that insofar as tainted commemorations may constitute the wrongs of degrading or alienating members of formerly oppressed groups, removing them can be a legitimate response to tainted commemorations, to secure their self-respect.33 He recognizes, however, that depending on the specific socio-historical context in which the tainted commemoration is embedded, the demand to preserve it may also be a legitimate response.34 How should we decide between these legitimate but opposing responses? According to Schulz, “the most appropriate way of dealing with a tainted commemoration is the one most likely to further the establishment of relations of respect” between members of formerly oppressive and oppressed groups, and thus also self-respect.35 That is, he adopts a narrower view of the concern with historical engagement that has been presented—it has to be in the service of the aim of securing respect. On this characterization, those concerns about historical engagement which do not serve this aim appear to be set aside as illegitimate, at least concerning the treatment of tainted commemorations. On Schulz's account, there would be no fundamental disagreement between the two opposing views, only a disagreement about which response best secures a common aim to which they are both committed. The seemingly intractable disagreement we began with is dissolved. All that remains is for us to identify which response to tainted commemorations would best further relations of respect. In contrast, my view does not rely on the characterization that the concern with history is (or should be) fundamentally the concern with securing self-respect, such that there is no fundamental disagreement between the two opposing views. Instead, I take the disagreement as it is. As earlier indicated, there are valuable goals furthered by both views which are distinct and not always reducible to each other. Though I will not argue for it here, I suspect that Schulz's characterization is likely to be regarded by preservationists as loading the die in favor of activists who seek to secure self-respect, and at the expense of remembrance. In this section, I evaluate two suggestions for how we should respond to tainted commemorations—installing counter-commemorations near tainted commemorations and adding contextualizing information to them. My discussions will again center on specific cases—the commemoration of Confe