Mémorial de l'abolition de l'esclavage. Groume//flickr.cc(by-nc)
Controversies surrounding the public memorialisation of slave trader and philanthropist Edward Colston illustrate how Bristol oscillates between remembering and forgetting its slave trading past. There have, on the one hand, been several initiatives in the city since the 1990s aimed at raising awareness of Bristol’s historical connection to slavery. A major exhibition exploring the city’s role in the slave trade was initiated by local activists, academics and artists in 1999, and some of its exhibits are now held in a permanent gallery in what used to be the Industrial Museum. There is also the Slave Trail, and Pero’s Bridge, linking the two banks of the Bristol docks, and named in memory of the life of Pero, servant to 18th entury plantation owner, John Pinney. But on the other hand, Edward Colston, a slave trader, continues to be publicly honoured. Schools, avenues, and a concert hall are all named after him, and his statue still stands in the city centre. The mere idea of tearing it down meets with fierce resistance from certain quarters.
In May 2016, the annual debate of the Bristol Institute for Research in the Humanities and Arts revisited the controversies surrounding Colston’s statue. Prior to the debate, a three-hour programme on BBC Radio Bristol stimulated heated exchanges among listeners. They had been encouraged to comment on the question, “Time to get rid of Edward Colston’s legacy?” The answers revealed how current social issues shaped people’s perceptions of the past. Many argued that the statue was disgraceful because it celebrated the life of a man who contributed to the welfare of the city with revenues acquired through ‘human trafficking’. But some were unapologetic, stating that it was irrelevant to question the statue’s morality since slavery was legal in Colston’s time. Still others contended that European conquest saved the lives of millions of Africans who would have otherwise been condemned to a life of misery and tribal warfare. Some called in to deplore the emphasis put on the history of slavery abroad when the conditions of British coal miners two centuries ago were, they claimed, as appalling as those of slaves. “What about our own people?” one caller asked, while the radio host claimed that “Nigerians sold their own people”. Lurking beneath these words is the troublesome question of race, expressed in terms such as “us” often opposed to “them”, and in the assumption that Bristol’s “own people” did not include descendants of the enslaved.
