Create historical parks for colonial monuments

DR VEDAVID MANICK

In 2001, the rising wave of fundamentalism ridden by the Taliban demolished that world's tallest free-standing statues of the Buddha. Steadfast silent witnesses to much of human history, these granite structures no longer had a place in a new society, where strict doctrines forbade any graven images. As the dust settled on the dynamite explosions that day, humanity lost part of its intangible heritage and became disconnected from a glorious past that would fade with each generation.

Sadly history is full of such examples. Bosra, Palmyra, and other glorious monuments joined the pile of rubble as ISIS swept across the Middle East. The competing Catholic-Protestant ideologies destroyed human imagery previously "immortalised" in the 16th century. As rational thought continues to evolve, so is our view of the past. The once glorified suddenly becomes sacrilegious; indeed, in generations to come what we idolise today will be chastised.

Colonialism has undoubtedly done a number on us. Years later, we struggle with race and ideology. It seems engraved from birth, and with each generation does not seem to die away. The recent wave of necessary discussion emerging from the Black Lives Matter movement has renewed the calls for us to confront a painful past, and claim as casualties monuments of that colonial history. The main target is the statue of Christopher Columbus, mostly ignored by people as they hustle to more urgent tasks at hand. After that statue goes, which other monuments will be on trial?

Ironically, this comes months after we spent millions of dollars on upgrading monuments of our colonial past in the name of national pride. What do the Magnificent Seven, Red House, and President's House represent that the small figurine we wish to destroy does not encapsulate? Does removing a statue of Columbus obliterate the fact that his arrival leads to colonialism, brought all our peoples to the sacred shores who all moulded our unique Trinidadian-Tobagonian identity? Does removing the statue erase the pain our First Peoples experienced from that fated encounter, or the subsequent victimisation all peoples of this land faced under "Massa's whip?"

History's legacy is more profound than crumbling monuments, and its impact lasts longer than the mortar and concrete that make them. Removing a statue will remove the remainder of the past. It will not generate healing conversations that will heal deep psychological wounds, nor will it strengthen our resolve to shake off unseen chains preventing us from forging into a limitless future. It will not help us appreciate what it means to be Triniddian-Tobagonian, a proud identity we would not have if we had not gone through it all, including the dark days of colonialism.

The people of Latin America are testimony to what embracing all parts of your identity means. When I visited the many cathedrals of Lima and Cusco in Peru, I was astonished to see that from the sturdy foundations of Inca temples, magnificent European cathedrals arose, shrines to a unique form of Catholicism that embraced both European and Inca heritage. In fact, in the Cathedral of Lima, the remains of Francisco Pizarro, the Spanish conquistador who inflicted unspeakable evils on the Incas, is kept in the sacred compound where the Incan descendants now worship. When I asked locals, they saw no conflict in this – for better or worse, Pizzaro played a role in the Peruvian identity.

We need to maturely reflect on our past and forge our own identity, not conveniently remove reminders of it and hope that it never goes away. Modern history speaks to the folly of imposing one perspective over another. The Babri Masjid, built on the ruins of a Hindu temple in Ayodhya, crumbled in a rising wave of fundamentalism in 1993. What emerged from that was unspeakable horror as Hindu and Muslim spilled blood all over India. It is only after 25-plus years of emerging conversation that the courts have now resolved this issue, which no doubt still raises tempers on both sides of the religious divide in modern India. As a Hindu, I will rever a visit to the birthplace of Rama, but will I ever be able to forget the lives senselessly lost in the communal violence that erupted because of the place?

I am not an advocate for removing our historical monuments. I am also not an advocate for glorifying a history that modern thought does not idolise. I am, however, an advocate for genuine discussion and learning, which will not come from peeling away reminders of our past. With this in mind, I propose that our tangible heritage, monuments and statues should be made into historical heritage parks where our people and generations to come will go and learn about the shapers of our identity. No one reads anymore, and we should not depend on abstract lines in a textbook to capture our legacy.