Edward Colston and the 'Erasure' of History

The Black Lives Matters protests have reached Bristol. This isn't a surprise given Bristol's history. Bristol's wealth is built on slavery. It was one of the cities settled by the Windrush generation, leading it to become a focal point for anti-racial discrimination protests in the 1960s. And it has done a pretty poor job of addressing this history in any meaningful way. A particular cause for consternation has been the immortalising of Edward Colston. Colston (1636 – 1721), built his fortune through the slave trade. While there is no evidence that Colston directly traded slaves, he received huge dividends as a member of the Royal African Company which had a monopoly on trade between England and Africa. However, his involvement can't be dismissed as simply being a shareholder who had little or no idea of the details of company operations. Colston quickly rose to be a member of the board and was Deputy Governor (the most senior executive position) for a year from 1689. Colston knew the full extent of the company's involvement in the slave trade.

Now, I'm fully on board with the idea of not judging people in history on modern morals, and Colston died over a century before the Slavery Abolition Act, so it can be argued that he was doing nothing unusual or immoral for the times. And when trying to understand our history, examination through the morals of the day are, I would argue, not just sensible but vital. But that's for looking back, not looking forward.

Which brings us on to statues. Statues serve many purposes. The statue of Edward Colston, for example, was erected 174 years after his death in 1895 to commemorate his philanthropy towards the city. A fitting memorial perhaps for someone who supported and endowed local schools, almshouses, hospitals and churches. But in the century since its erection the source of Colston's wealth became more well-known and more controversial. After all, the Windrush generation traces its Caribbean heritage to the trans-Atlantic slave trade. I don't know how I'd feel if every time I walked across the centre I'd be confronted with a statue to the man who was responsible for shipping my ancestors across the Atlantic in the most inhumane conditions to be worked to death on sugar plantations. A man whose legacy, along with all the other slave traders and the culture their work created, was one of racial discrimination that my parents and my grandparents had to endure - that I have to endure, every time I step outside my front door. If that was my history, I'd have some animosity to that statue, and to the city who decided to spend over 20 years hand-wringing about what to do with him.

In that context, it seems really quite unsurprising that in the course of the protests the statue was pulled down and thrown into the Avon. The reaction to this has been, also unsurprisingly, mixed. Some (myself included) are glad that the statue has finally been removed. Others think that this is an attempt at erasing the past. I want to end by addressing that argument.

History is not static. It changes. New information comes to light, different perspectives emerge. Reassessing the past how historians keep in business! So it's no surprise that our attitudes to people such as Edward Colston will charge. But it's what we do when those attitudes change that matters. Do we recognise the validity of the arguments for reassessment or do we reject them? Rejection is fine - reassessment must be justified and not just for the sake of change. But if we accept the reassessment them surely it is our duty to act on that?

Colston has been reassessed and many have decided that his presence in the city centre is no longer needed or wanted. That this presence does more harm and good. That those same financial contributions that were commemorated in the form of a statue 174 years after his death are now seen by many as tainted by the blood of countless slaves who unwillingly gave their lives to fund the betterment of Bristol. There have been many discussions about contextualising the statue, by adding a plaque or putting it in the museum. But nothing happened. There were debates. There were petitions. But nothing happened.

Now something has happened. Protestors took matters into their own hands, quite literally, and ended the debate once and for all. In doing so they have not erased history, but added to it. The footage of the statue being pulled down and thrown into the river will go on the news and into archives. The event will be recorded in blogs such as this, in papers and in diaries. Today will be a significant day in the history of the city.

My hope is that the statue remains where it lies at lest for a generation. My hope is that as it lies there, gradually being covered in silt, the city changes around it and for the better. That it becomes more open about its history and the legacy that history leaves on the lives of all Bristolians. My hope is that in 50 or 100 or 200 years time the statue is found again, and that it is raised from its muddy bed to be put in the context so many have been asking for. And when it does that context will not just include the times of Colston himself, but these times. Times I hope will lead to a brighter future for all.