LONDON, 8 December 2003 — The plinth still stands empty. Despite the welcome improvements to Trafalgar Square, and a succession of eminent candidates for casting, the fourth plinth remains resolutely barren. Winston Churchill, Lord Mountbatten and even the Queen Mother have failed to capture the public imagination. Meanwhile, Westminster council looks set to reject plans for a statue of Nelson Mandela on the square’s north terrace.
Our capital city’s pre-eminent public space has nothing new to say about today’s Britain or our historic self-identity, while, in an unfortunate throwback to his cultural policies at the GLC, Mayor Ken Livingstone is planning to use the plinth for a fluctuating display of modern art. But it demands a permanent statue.
Laid out by Charles Barry in the 1840s, Trafalgar Square constitutes one of Britain’s most sophisticated celebrations of empire. At its heart, standing 176ft high, is the hero of Trafalgar, the architect of Britain’s naval supremacy and that icon of Anglo-Saxon stoicism: Lord Horatio Nelson. Guarded on four sides by Edwin Landseer’s mighty lions, the base of Nelson’s Column portrays the battles of St Vincent, the Nile and Copenhagen, as well as a romanticized depiction of Nelson’s own demise.
As the empire expanded, so London’s imperial architecture bloomed. Cleopatra’s Needle and sphinxes appeared on the Victoria Embankment, while the Colonial Office dominated Whitehall, and Holborn’s Kingsway led down to Australia House and India House. In Trafalgar Square, hemmed in by South Africa House and Canada House, Nelson was joined by a further four statues. The first to go up commemorated the life and limited achievements of George IV. The others celebrated three great imperialist generals.
Sir Charles James Napier, a veteran of the Peninsular war, headed to India in 1841 to conquer and govern the province of Sind, now in Pakistan. “We have no right to seize Sind, but we shall do so,” Napier declared. He was accompanied to the square by Sir Henry Havelock, much admired for his suppression of the 1857 Indian Mutiny, and Gen. Charles George “Chinese” Gordon, the martyr of Khartoum.
In 1943, Gen. Gordon was quietly removed. And if Livingstone has his way, Napier and Havelock might soon follow. For the mayor has famously and fatuously declared that, since he does not have “a clue who two of the generals there are”, the statues should be dismantled. A disturbing prospect, indeed, if the maintenance of London’s civic heritage depends on Livingstone’s knowledge of the past.
Just as worrying is the suggestion that, since Havelock and Napier undertook imperial activities now widely demurred, then their statues should be removed and histories forgotten.
Far better, surely, to face our past and to display our post-colonial confidence by placing a statue of Gandhi standing (not sitting, as he is in Tavistock Square) among the usurpers of India: A statesman renowned for peaceful politics surrounded by the advocates of military might; an advocate of active non-violence in a public square informally dedicated to civil disobedience. And with even the Countryside Alliance invoking Gandhi’s name in their plans to disobey hunting legislation, the suggestion should have universal appeal.
A statue dedicated to Gandhi might also allow us to celebrate maturely our Anglo-Indian heritage. For as the queen’s disastrous royal visit to India in 1997 indicated, it is a history whose wounds are still raw. The commercial, cultural and political histories the two countries share would be perfectly symbolized by Gandhi: The student of London, the supporter of the Allies in World War II, and the critical friend who realized Britain’s long-term interests demanded a withdrawal from the subcontinent.
The monument would also offer an opportunity to celebrate the postwar contribution of Indian communities to British culture in realms as diverse as cuisine, fashion, business and public service. A city of the world should honor a citizen of the world. At the fulcrum of London’s imperial facade, let us say something about our post-imperial cosmopolitanism. And, who knows, even Ken Livingstone might have heard of Mahatma Gandhi.
— Tristram Hunt teaches history at Queen Mary College, London.
