The 19th century statue of Edward Colston, a popular monument found in the centre of Bristol, not only represented a large part of Britain’s colonial past made history in creating a recent landmark court decision. For years the statue which was located at the bottom of Park Street may have largely gone unnoticed. The plaque on the south face of the plinth read ‘Erected by citizens of Bristol as a memorial of one of the most virtuous and wise sons of their city.’ However, on a sunny Sunday in 2020 what unfolded put the City on the map and made news all around the world.
As is well known, much of Bristol was built on the Atlantic slave trade and Colston played an avid role in it. He made his fortune through human suffering and trading human cargo for cash. The City benefited from his legacy but his philanthropy latterly made some feel uneasy. Opinion was divided. To recognise the depth of feeling of what Colston stood for his honoured name began to be erased from local landmarks starting with Colston Hall which was renamed Bristol Beacon. On 7 June 2020, his statue was pulled down, damaged, and unceremoniously dumped into Bristol harbour amid protests for justice for George Floyd and the BLM movement across the globe. No doubt the intention was for the drowned Colston to remain in his cold watery grave but he was rescued by the council and now sits, albeit in an horizontal rather than a vertical position on permanent display in the M Shed Museum, Bristol.
As a result of this incident, four individuals were charged with criminal damage, who were later branded the “Colston four”. The police were aware of the Black Lives Matter protest taking place. The protest route passed by the statue and various reports state that the police were aware that the statue might be targeted. Strategic meetings took place with the police and Bristol City Council. It was deemed not necessary to protect this object. Traditionalists would argue that part of the role of the police is to prevent a crime occurring or to intervene if a crime is being committed. When the statue was toppled the police did neither at the time. A given reason for remaining passive was the potential for a ‘very violent confrontation with the police that could have had serious ramifications for the city of Bristol and beyond’. Perhaps lessons had been learned from the St Paul’s riots in the 1980’s. The event passed peacefully.
The definition of criminal damage established by the 1971 Act is: ‘A person who, without lawful excuse, destroys or damages any property belonging to another without lawful excuse’. The jury hearing the trial heard a number of arguments;
- Firstly, concept of criminal damage. Part of the offence is made out if the damage caused renders an object valueless. A criminal act causes the value to be lost. The plinth was clearly damaged when the toppling occurred. The statue itself was pulled down with ropes, covered with permanent spray paint and damaged when it was dragged into the harbour. However ironically it was estimated by art valuers and historians due to its newfound current historical significance as being worth up to fifty times more than its original value. The object had not depleted in monetary terms and therefore there was no damage according to the definition under the Act.
- A second question is the property belonging to another. It was bequeathed to the council. They remain guardians of the object and they, therefore own it. This part of the offence appeared to be made out. However there was an argument that council property is owned by those who pay for it. The people. The defence was that you cannot damage property belonging to yourself. You are free to damage what belongs to you and therefore it is not criminal.
- The third part is ‘lawful excuse’. In law it was said by the prosecution that there was none. The defence put forward that the actions were necessary to prevent the crime of public indecency. The Colston statue’s continued presence was so offensive, abusive, and distressing that it was ‘necessary’ to topple it. Furthermore, as the public owned and had erected it, the public supported them pulling it down. As part of that lawful excuse the action was proportionate in that a conviction would be a disproportionate interference with the freedom of expression and the ‘assembly of rights’ under their Human Rights of the four. They had acted on behalf of the people. To convict, the jury would have to conclude the harm caused to the council’s property rights to be so significant that it would override the protestor’s rights. In short it had to be torn down, the defence argued.
Having heard on behalf of the Crown and the defence, and after deliberation, the verdict was announced by the foreman. Not guilty and therefore an acquittal. The four were free with their reputations untarnished. The prosecution had not proved their case beyond reasonable doubt. Outrage was expressed by the traditionalists and there was celebration from the forward thinkers.
Of note is one tactic the defence engaged that may have tugged on the heart strings of the jurors. The phrase was quoted, ‘be on the right side of history’ which, according to the Spectator, is ‘beloved by progressives but also by totalitarian regimes and the doctrinaire Marxists and fascists’. On reflection this may have been a high-risk tactic using this quotation and meaning in the circumstances of the case. The rather philosophical phrase has been subject to criticism as it can be argued that there is no such thing as a linear history of progress and that history will always change for the better or worse along with the context of the historian. History is not something you can stand against, or on a certain side, but it happens because of the society we live in.
We, as people make up current society and therefore how we react to these types of situations will determine the future and ultimately, write our history. Whatever perspective you align with, and everyone should have one, it is important that we look at the ugly truths of the past such as slavery, learn from them and aim to shape the future to prevent the glorification of figures, such as Colston. The fact that the jurors were told it was “wholly irrelevant” that he was a slave trader makes sense in the eyes of the law, but it was a factor that was considered, amongst others, by twelve normal people who are representative of the city community. For some the ‘rule of law’ must be dispassionately and strictly followed and a conviction was the only outcome. However, for others in acquitting the defendants the law has been applied to the circumstances of a case in an important and relevant city. If this case does not change the law itself then perhaps this should be seen to be a barometer of modern public opinion and there should be a celebration of our jury system, as it currently stands. How will this be written or rewritten into history, only time will tell, depending on the writer. However, what is clear is that this case is history of our making.
The article was cowritten by Nerea Roseblade and Peter Dodd. Nerea Roseblade is currently a law student studying at the University of Bristol and a past pupil of St Mary’s School in Cambridge. Peter Dodd is a solicitor and partner here at Nockolds, based in our Bishop’s Stortford office. He is a graduate from the University of Bristol and father of two daughters at St Mary’s school in Cambridge.