Consider the Life of a Statue
Our ancient heroes, they are turning to dust!
-Muse “United States of Eurasia”
In 2004, I was living in Chile.
One day, while walking around Santiago, I asked a local Chilean man if he could tell me a little bit about a large statue in one of the plazas. His immediate and angry reaction startled me.
“That statue is trash! Because Pinochet is trash!!!”
The CIA backed ouster of Salvador Allende’s popularly elected government brought Augusto Pinochet to the highest office in the land. Pinochet ruled Chile from 1973 to 1990 and by the time of his death in 2006 he had hundreds of criminal charges being brought against him, many for human rights violations. Judging by the intense reaction of the man on the street, I gathered that Pinochet’s life and tenure was still a highly charged subject for Chileans.
The man insisted that the statue was basura (trash) because Pinochet was basura (trash). Was he speaking from emotion or were his words an incredibly profound statement?
Photo by Ehimetalor Akhere Unuabona on Unsplash
***
Consider the life of a statue. Rock, metal, or some hardened material is formed into the likeness of a person. It is usually placed on a pedestal in a prominent section of town where others will look upon it and hopefully “remember”.
Birds perch and shit on the statue, because nature recognizes it for what it is. In time, the life connection between the deceased person on the statue and the living people around it fades. It enters the realm of “history”, a dry, pointless period of time after lunch where eighth graders with plummeting blood sugar levels try not to fall asleep in their chairs.
But history can sometimes burst into the present. Our so-called memorials become an eye sore and point of contention to some. It’s understandable. Though it’s important to remember my great grandfather lived and his life is something upon which I stand (for better or worse), I don’t need a statue of his likeness in my front yard.
And so, in time and with pressure, the statue is torn down. In the grand scheme of human history, they all come down eventually. We saw it in Iraq, we saw it in Russia, we saw it in America.
Where does the statue go after that? The evening news never covers that portion of the story. Do they take it to the dump? Do they bury it in the dirt? Is it sent overseas and erected somewhere else – surrounded by kids wearing Los Angeles Rams Superbowl LIII Champions shirts? Do they grind it up into ashes and sprinkle them over Robert E. Lee’s favorite fishing pond? Maybe we’ll never know.
The statue enters the realm of trash – an object of no perceived value to us. Is it trash now because the person has fallen out of favor? Or was the statue trash the whole time?
What of the memorialized person? Does their life and legacy contain no value to us? If so, perhaps we should erase them from collective memory. Their very existence is the historical equivalent of that Chinese take-out you left in the fridge for too long.
***
There is much anxiety about the toppling of statues. It can feel like erasure of our names and heritage from the fabric of humanity. The fear that what we build in our lifetimes can be canceled, ground down, and returned to dust, is a real fear. This fear is often difficult to name and lurks just under the surface of our conscious minds.
Many statues are of men who excelled at killing others, monuments erected to proficiency in violence. The confederate generals, the Sadaam Husseins, the Winston Churchills of the world. They are built up in honor and torn down in hatred. The demolishment seems to proclaim that their legacy is trash, their actions are trash! Their motives are being dragged into the scathing light of the present.
There’s even talk of building new statues in their place. Our old heroes have failed us, let us find new ones to fill their place. Good people. Unflawed lives that we can have peace of mind about whilst etching their countenances onto stone.
The motives for tearing down a statue can be simple and common sense, but can also be complicated and insincere. Is our motive to remember the sins of the past and repent of the sins of today? Or does the sight of the statue fill us with discomfort?
It is a symbol of our collective brokenness – violence, abuse, persecution of others, fear – and we want to make these feelings go away as quickly as possible. Toppling and canceling helps us quickly move on, whereas sitting with the discomfort is more ambiguous and messy. The destruction of a statue is something tangible to point to and it’s toppling is cathartic.
***
Perhaps the real issue is not the destruction of statues, but the erection of statues. We must contend with the words of God himself “from dust you came and to dust you shall return”.[1] In the destruction of statues we feel our own mortality and see that much of our work and success is fleeting.
There is a feeling of total loss of power to control our legacy. What can withstand the test of time when we stand in judgement over our forefathers, and in this act all but assure that our children will stand in judgement over us?
Our heroes are disappointingly human, and they fail us. But we set them up for failure by engraving their image in stone and placing them upon a granite pedestal. This pedestal, which is meant to bless their memory and life, merely becomes a curse, a target for the next generation to destroy.
Without wasting our time erecting statues and monuments, there must be a way to honor our collective mothers and fathers – the people upon whose lives we inescapably and undeniably stand. One of the ten commandments, from the Bible book of Exodus says:
“Honor your father and your mother, so that you may live long in the land the Lord your God is giving you.”[2]
This commandment is often misinterpreted. “Honor” your father and mother is often heard as “do what they tell you”, “don’t disobey them”, “be like they were”.
Our parents, like us, are not “good” or “bad”, but exist on a spectrum. For some of you, your parents were attentive, loving, and supportive. That doesn’t mean they were perfect and they certainly don’t need a statue.
Others of you had parents who were absent, abusive, or hateful. But that doesn’t mean they should be wiped from the family genealogy either .
We honor our parents by living lives that make others assume our parents were fantastic. If your dad was a huge racist, live a life that is so filled with compassion other people will swear your father must’ve been a saint. If your mom was money grubbing and selfish, live a generous existence. If you come from a violent environment, reject violence in all forms. Be an advocate for peace. People will remark how well you’ve been raised and your parents will be honored in their eyes.
It’s interesting that in many places in the Bible, God commands his people to remember the past by erecting memorial stones but never once does he propose erecting a statue of their leaders.
In Joshua chapter 4, the people are instructed to set up twelve large stones on the bank of the Jordan, a reminder of a crucial moment in their journey out of slavery.[3] Remembering the past is important and memorials that bring the wisdom of past experiences into the present are needed.
One of the best examples I’ve seen of a memorial that brings the past into the present is the Memorial to the Murdered Jews of Europe in Berlin. 2711 concrete slabs of differing heights are laid out in a city block near the Brandenburg Gate.[4] The blocks around the perimeter are only knee high, but as you walk towards the middle of the memorial the stone slabs become taller and the ground is uneven. Before you know it, the slabs are above your head and it’s difficult to know where exactly you are within the square shaped memorial. It is disorienting and disturbing. There is no highlighted center of the piece and everyone reacts to the memorial in their own unique way. To me, it was a powerful representation of the violence that is always bubbling beneath the surface of society. That violence is only knee high and tolerable, but if we continue to follow its path we are quickly in over our heads.
Worshipping the past and making humans into heroes is not a useful or honest strategy. But neither is erasure and demonization. To see a reflection of ourselves in the villains of the past is to be realistic about how we are. By cancelling our collective mothers and fathers today, we set the stage to be rejected by our own children.
Their statues are built from the dust of the earth and one day all will inevitably return to the ground. So in that sense, the statues really are trash. But their imperfect lives and checkered legacies still hold immense value for us today and we cancel them at our own peril.
REFERENCES
1. Genesis 3:19
2. Exodus 20:12
3. Joshua 4: 4-7
4. https://www.visitberlin.de/en/memorial-murdered-jews-europe