Iconoclasm and #Black Lives Matter

"They just don't think about it!" It was spoken dismissively. The group of churches met remotely twice a week by zoom.

A nice reflective service (in which the prayers mentioned justice and peace) was followed by "break out groups" where people were put in randomised groups of 5 or 6 other screens. In one group there was a general consensus among the participants that the recent demonstrations had been irresponsible, criminal and dangerous. "We'll see when the infection rate goes up." There was no mention of George Floyd whose funeral was going on nor of Black Lives Mattering. In fact they'd not been mentioned at all in any service. 

Edward Colston (Bristol News)

Slave ship (Wikipedia)

Meanwhile an inarticulate old man was thinking to himself: "Of course they'd thought about it. They've been thinking about it for years, decades and centuries. And of course they knew the risks they were running. Look at the masks, the distancing, the overwhelming self-restraint." He was thinking, "As a Bristolian from age 2 and a bit, who in my schooling up till university never heard a word about how Edward Colston made his money, I was glad when I heard that his statue had been toppled (like Saddam Husain), and dumped in the harbour. The rope round the neck reminiscent of the many slaves hung for wanting freedom; the dumping in the river echoing the thousands of African slaves dumped overboard in the Atlantic. It's high time the public honouring of slavery was removed. I am ashamed of my ignorance - for example I did not realise the significance of Whiteladies Road leading to Blackboy Hill *. I profoundly admire Bristol's elected mayor, Marvin Rees, who regarded the statue as a personal affront, but also said, 'My concern though is that racism is tackled not just by pulling down statues in symbolic moments – it’s stitched into the system. It’s the systematic exclusion of people from opportunity and power.' If it deserves to be replaced anywhere, it's in a museum exhibition about slavery." (I gather that's where it's going. Good decision.)

In the event all he said was, "I disagree. I think the cause of the demonstrations is hugely important. Black lives matter." There was momentary silence. 

Recently the vicar alluded to them in his weekly letter: 

"There have been many demonstrations about the inequality and mistreatment of people different from us. Psalm 58 helps express outrage at injustice. It might be a bit too brutal and vicious for you, but it does claim hope in God to achieve justice. If you have been or are a victim of unfair treatment, then Psalm 59 may express what you want to say."

Photo: London Evening Standard

Personally, I am happy that the statues of men who made their money from slavery should be removed. I would like it carried out after examination of the history and debate in democratic forums. I do understand the danger of hot-headed activists attacking monuments only to be confronted by white racists "defending" Britain and polarising public opinion - which would lead to the rise of extreme nationalism in our political life. It could easily germinate and flourish in the comfortable white shires of rural England. So I hope for a thorough and unflinching examination of our colonial past - and its being taught in our schools from the moment they're allowed to return. The context of 21st-century Britain is very different from the mid 20th when I was at school, and even more so from Victorian Britain when many statues were erected. The National Curriculum Stage 3 includes the example of "Britain’s transatlantic slave trade: its effects and its eventual abolition" as one option, which might explain why the younger generation was so represented in demonstrations. The generations who most need education about slavery and colonialism are mine (baby boomers) and those the succeeding one or two. 

I agree with the view that we are at a potential turning-point in the history of racial equality. The horrific killing of George Floyd with onlookers unwilling or unable to save him coincides with the world having the time to reflect and understand. My wife and I have been watching the TV adaptation of Andrea Levy's The Long Song, set in the cane fields of Jamaica. We need more of such uncomfortable programmes. I hope the debates continue.

Finally a single history test for you: What do you understand by the Middle Passage?

Barbara Holmes, an American theologian, may help:

"It was a community of sorts, yet each person lay in their own chrysalis of human waste and anxiety. More often than not, these Africans were strangers to each other by virtue of language, culture, and tribe. Although the names of their deities differed, they shared a common belief in the seen and unseen. The journey was a rite of passage of sorts that stripped captives of their personal control over the situation and forced them to turn to the spirit realm for relief and guidance. . . ."

*As is clear from the comments below, I hadn't realised the significance of the road names, which is less objectionable than I implied. (13th June) Apologies.

A great day... for the world?

In an email to me yesterday, a good friend wrote about my "letters, blogs, diaries, lectures, diatribes, declamations or acclamations". I replied, "Diatribes - moi?" But let me break the habit of a lifetime to let off steam after yesterday's vote in the House of Commons to redefine the English language and the natural law.

In an item on The World at Ten on Radio 4 in the evening, there was a vox pop from a pub in Soho. One comment struck me. "It's a great day for gays, for Britain and for the world" (my italics). Well, it will certainly have momentous, and unforeseen unintended, consequences for this country, I predict. But isn't it time we got a realistic perspective on our own global importance? Along with other former colonial powers, we lost our colonies in the last century. Only we still cherish the illusion that we are a "great" power. We still presume we have so much to teach these benighted nations, who've only just emerged from the jungle or the desert. Hello! 

Isn't it time that we acknowledged that we have at least as much to learn from those on whom, let's be honest, we still look down as we ever taught them? Let's look at ourselves from outside. It would not be hard to paint a picture of a country whose media are corrupt, whose police are compromised, whose financial institutions are irresponsible, whose politicians are venal and whose aspiring leaders persistently and dishonestly deny perverting the course of justice. It might perplex the onlooker how one small off-shore island presumes to judge and intervene in other nations' internal struggles, when it would vociferously and violently resist the same happening in reverse. It might puzzle him how a country planning to spend billions of pounds on upgrading its nuclear weapons' system takes such a morally superior position over others who attempt similarly to defend themselves. 

It really is time that we abandoned the notion that we are a "great" nation - and by that I don't mean that we have to give up our national pride; but it needs to be proportionate; it needs to be real. We are not morally superior. I was unexpectedly moved last week watching the programme Make Me a Muslim, in which thoroughly secular model, Shanna Bukhari, set out to discover why more young British women are converting to Islam. The answer was not uniform, but it seemed to be a symptom of a profound dissatisfaction with our apparently enlightened culture, and something that occurred to me was whether our national unease with Islam was partly a reaction to its implied critique of this country's morality, or lack of it. Of course we dress up our Islamophobia in the guise of "It's only the terrorists we mind," but I wonder.  

Our politicians are not cut from a better cloth than all others. Our institutions are not intrinsically better than others' institutions. The realisation that we are an "ordinary" nation would save us much in terms of expenditure, of unrealistic ambition and popular discontent. I gather Chris Bryant MP was heard to say in Parliament yesterday, "The world has moved on." That may not be the best reason for redefining language and law, but is an excellent reason for reviewing and realigning our global perspective. What happens in the Commons does not shake the world.