Should Statues Ever Move?

NEARLY HALF A CENTURY after the American Civil War was over, the political concept of (capital "F") Fascism arose in Europe. While the US would go on to fight those Fascists in World War II, a concurrent (small-"f" fascism) was festering right here at home. Just as Black Americans had gained their freedom, white supremacists hatched a concerted campaign of terror to keep them down. Among their tools of intimidation were hundreds of statues and monuments lording over them as a constant reminder of their subjugation.

A statue of Confederate General Robert E. Lee was removed from Market Street Park in Charlottesville, VA in 2021, 97 years after it was originally erected.

LONG BEFORE THE IDEA of "Fascism" ever emerged, the desire to oppress our neighbors and countrymen through fear and intimidation was alive and strong in America. But it was concurrent with the rise of fascism that white supremacists in the South erected hundreds of statues and monuments to the Confederacy in a systematic campaign to preserve

The most ancient of civilizations have created them – from the “Lion Man” from 40,000 years ago discovered in a cave in Germany through marble images of gods in Ancient Greece and Rome, to sculptures of kings and commanders and contemporary heroes of today – statues represent people and ideas we believe should be preserved, immortalized, and in most cases, emulated.

When we erect statues of people, it is, ostensibly, so that their lives and deeds may be remembered long beyond their own lifetimes, their choices and actions to stand as inspiration to subsequent generations to continue carrying out their vision.

We display these bold embodiments in public spaces – to teach onlookers from whence they came, who they are, and possibly kindle future greatness, innovation, and accomplishment.

Yes, it is true that there are countless examples of a village, a city, a nation displaying the carcasses of its enemies to deter other would-be adversaries. Genghis Kahn and the Mongols infamously built pyramids of their victims’ skulls to strike fear into any who might threaten them, for example, but this is entirely different. These are corpses of the vanquished, not iron, stone, or even wood-carved renderings of hometown heroes. The former are there to create fear, the latter are placed in the town plaza or on a street corner as a beacon in which locals may take pride and inspiration. When we place a statue in a public venue, our cultural conventions teach us to assume that it is to honor, not forewarn. A conscientious society should not leave public spectacles to interpretation insofar as doing so may confuse and divide onlookers beyond the healthful benefits that art may provoke (art that creates discomfort and inspires questions serves the purposes of democracies).

There are places for such art: museums – where exhibits can speak softly with reason – even if the people and actions depicted are abominable – allowing audiences to ingest truthful accounts of history and its lessons.

Public statues bellow: “We love this person and his or her actions, and you would do well to do as he or she did!”

As time passes and societal values evolve, so, too, may our publicly displayed celebrations of those who came before us. However, let us consider this criterion. If the statue was erected to honor a value we still hold in high esteem, keep it. Examples might include a statue of George Washington. It can be reasonably argued that leading revolutionary troops to victory over the British army, serving as the first President of the United States, and declining Congress’s invitation to serve beyond a second term outweigh his owning of slaves. A more than cursory exploration may suggest that Washington reviled the practice and welcomed its demise (although it may also be noted that Washington did not forfeit ownership of his 123 slaves until, by order of his will, they should be emancipated after the death of his wife, Martha, which came in 1799, a year after Washington’s own death; the slaves were freed January 1, 1801.)

If, however, the intention of a public statue is to strike fear into its onlookers or advance an agenda of division among the citizenry – an unspoken societal subtext of segregation or subjugation, a wizened people ought to eliminate that from its squares and street corners – as that intention is counter to the very democratic thinking upon which the society was founded and art is supposed to foster. Unless, of course, “democracy” was never a true core-value, but rather only an inconvenient entrance fee, an ante to join the American game of capitalism and a system that kept races segregated socially and economically.

In a History.com article updated in May of 2025, University of North Carolina historian Mark Elliott explains that in the days soon after the end of the Civil War, it was a common practice to memorialize the fallen with monuments or markers in cemeteries, and that “the vast majority” of Confederate monuments that appeared in public spaces across the South “were built between the 1890s and 1950, which matches up exactly with the era of Jim Crow segregation.”

We currently see that trend re-emerging.

In response to what the right sees as “woke ideology,” a backlash carrying out a campaign to restore some statues and rename other buildings and entities. Following the dismantling dozens of statues of Christopher Columbus around the world -- and here in the US -- the killings of George Floyd, Breonna Taylor , and a painful list of other Black Americans, people were standing up and bringing down some statues they believed represented white supremacy and perpetuated a culture of racism. A statue of Confederate general “Stonewall” Jackson was removed from Monument Avenue in the Virginia capital of Richmond in 2020. Statues of Robert E. Lee were dismantled the following year in Richmond and Charlottesville, Virginia (three years after violent protests during a “Unite the Right” rally in Charlottesville took the life of one anti-white supremacist demonstrator.)

The Federal Government under Donald Trump, however, has returned at West Point a portrait of Lee -- accompanied by a slave guiding his horse, no less --

Confederate General Robert E. Lee's army took the lives of more than 360,000 Union soldiers.

and it plans to restore a bust and plaque quoting the Confederate traitor to America. Retired brigadier general, Ty Seidule, opposes the decision saying, "It is against the motto of 'Duty, Honor, Country,'” and that, “Robert E. Lee is the antithesis of that, because his duty and honor was (sic) for a rebellious slave republic."

Defense Secretary Pete Hegseth plans to return the "Reconciliation Monument" to the Arlington National Cemetery by 2027.

Opponents of the return say the monument projects an inaccurately harmonious relationship between slaves and their owners.

Defense Secretary Pete Hegseth is also leading a charge to return the 32-foot tall “Reconciliation Monument” honoring soldiers of the South to Arlington National Cemetery by 2027 after its removal in 2023 and a statue of Confederate officer Albert Pike (who was ultimately disgraced within his own ranks) after protesters pulled it from its pedestal in the wake of George Floyd’s 2020 murder by a Minneapolis police officer. (Hegseth has also restored the names of several US military bases to those of Confederate leaders after they were changed during the Biden administration, skirting a 2021 law banning naming US military bases after members of the Confederacy by finding current soldiers with the same names and claiming to rename the bases after them. If that doesn’t scream “disingenuous,” “dishonorable,” and “disrespectful,” I don’t know what does.)

Ultimately, it’s up to the people to decide the value of true democracy, and the extent to which the figures placed on public pedestals move us forward.