Is it wrong to vandalise or destroy art that glorifies violence and prejudice against marginalised people? Judith Bellmunt writes about the complexities of recording history.
On the Spanish national day earlier this month, a painting called “Primer homenaje a Cristóbal Colón” (First Homage to Christopher Columbus), in Madrid’s Naval Museum, was vandalized by two activists. This was in protest against Spain's notorious national day, celebrating Columbus’ ‘discovery’ of America. The activists, part of the Futuro Vegetal collective, allegedly threw biodegradable red paint, sparking huge public debate in Spain over the ethics of destroying art.
Most people in Madrid heatedly argued that this was destruction of cultural heritage, were glad it had suffered minimal destruction, would have a second reconstruction, and be put back up. Far from making them reconsider what they were really celebrating on national day, and making them question why they still have such paintings hanging unquestioned in museums, it had incidentally made the movement defending Columbus stronger.
It’s telling that in the 21st century, people still cherish paintings glorifying slavery and colonisation, and consider them to be cultural heritage, instead of having a sense of accountability. Our societies have not made as much progress as people think. There’s a lot of collective amnesia when it comes to history, and a lot of underlying nationalism beneath it. If we consider such artwork cultural heritage then we have a big issue.
Taking them down is not erasing history as critics argue, but a rewriting of history closer to the truth. Making heroes out of villains is falsifying history. Having paintings presenting Columbus as a God and natives kneeling down in front of him offering him treasures or whatnot is a twisted manipulation of history that is sickening if uncontextualized. Similarly, having confederates statues in streets wrongly celebrates the “lost cause” of the Confederate side and creates cultural amnesia about slavery.
There is one issue with normalizing the taking down of statues and paintings, and that is about the question of who has the power to do so. If we say it is acceptable for left-wing governments and activists to do so, what happens when a right wing government comes into power? How can we criticise them then for taking down certain statues? There are objective truths in history, but how does one defend a moral claim to history? It's tricky territory for sure. Look at how Trump reportedly wants to take down the famous image in Washington D.C called "The Scourged Back" of a slave's scarred back because of its "corrosive ideology".
This is not just Trump crashing out over a single image, but a calculated dystopian policy. Indeed, his executive order, Orwellianly called "Restoring Truth and Sanity to American History”, wants museums, particularly the Smithsonian museum, as well as public parks and spaces revised for leftist historical narratives. It includes taking down exhibits, statues and images that do not share “American values”. In other words, he wants to eliminate public consciousness about racism, slavery, and gender inequality in the US because it is not “patriotic”, nor upholds white supremacism.
Some may say that nobody cares about statues in streets, but the problem is in their commemorative purpose, which makes people automatically associate them with heroes. Not to mention how they are sculpted in an heroic way too. Moreover, Historian Dan Hicks discusses how statues can create an unconscious closeness between society and the individuals they represent. “These were men of their times, we find ourselves saying (...) and yet there they stand before us in the street”.
The truth is that they have more influence than we imagine. Seeing a statue of Christopher Columbus every day growing up does not have the same effect as walking past a memorial for the victims of the genocide he carried out. One desensitises you towards colonisers and those who carried genocide, the other is a solemn reminder of the unwritten promise made after these events; “never again”.
Having colonialist paintings presented as fine art in art museums, rather than contextualized in history museums, is more of the same; reinforcing a dangerous ideology. Likewise, buildings named after colonizers make their names come up in our everyday conversations. Look at Trinity's Berkeley Library, recently renamed Eavan Boland Library. It must have come up endless times in conversations, creating a contextless familiarity with the name.
All these statues, artworks, and building names create a sanitised legacy to those who should not, at the very least, have a positive one. Over and above that, they represent violent injustice towards those whose ancestors were victims of colonialism and racism, or those still suffering its effects.
Putting them in museums with context is quite a solid option because it makes us face our ancestors' mistakes and problematic attitudes. The Columbus painting, for example, is definitely informative of how colonialism was defended. However, lacking the context, it upholds the very thing that museums should use it to condemn.
At the same time, historians argue most people don’t read information plaques. And in case they do, if the information contradicts their beliefs they may reinterpret it in another way to suit their ideology. I relate the latter to a neglect of nations to teach their mistakes in history. For this reason it is more important than ever to have such statues and artwork removed, as it attracts media attention and creates public discourse on our nation’s dark history.
It seems like the best solution is to put controversial statues and artwork in museums to not forget how society once celebrated such people and events in history. Nonetheless, the educational system should simultaneously advance to make such contextualisation meaningful. On top of that, as established, taking down such artwork and statues is the right thing for accountability and symbolic justice. In their place, statues and memorials for victims and those who fought for equality should be put for remembrance and to not risk historical erasure.
It’s difficult to argue that destroying artwork is ethical, however, it is abundantly clear that paintings and statues that lack important context run the risk of perpetuating false narratives of history.