Across the United States, anti-racism protests have seen the defacing or toppling of several statues of St. Junipero Serra, the 18th-century saint who founded nine Catholic missions in the area that would later become California.
Statues of Christopher Columbus have met a similar fate.
Where does one stand with regard to the current crisis regarding the removal of statues of famous (not to mention, infamous) people who have played a prominent role in the country’s history? By what criteria shall we judge who is truly worthy of commemoration as a national hero?
Even the most admirable of people, one must recognize, have had character flaws. Only two humans, Jesus and his mother, have been proclaimed by the Church as without sin. Anyone even slightly familiar with the New Testament must be aware that St. Peter did not always act in the most admirable of ways. St. Augustine openly proclaimed his own shortcomings in his Confessions.
And, of course, it was for good reason that the Church used to appoint a devil’s advocate in the canonization process; while the office no long officially exists, the Church still calls on negative witnesses when investigating the life of a person being considered for canonization. Everyone can be found to be inadequate to some degree.
Yet heroes must be judged not by their faults, but by their achievements.
I have been reminded of this when revisiting films as diverse as Sunrise at Campobello, Thirteen Days, and The Darkest Hour. Each of them entertainingly presented a very positive view of national heroes: President Roosevelt, President Kennedy, and Sir Winston Churchill, respectively.
Though all three men made a significant and generally positive contribution to their countries’ histories, all three were personally flawed to some degree – and, of course, all three have their critics. Despite the critics, rightly or wrongly, depending perhaps on one’s political stance, they have been presented as worthy of honour, which is why statues have been erected in memory of them. In the same vein, the films about them present them in a positive light.
Because heroes both interest and inspire us, the film industry has presented films about them. Often the film is based on a person whose character is almost impeccable, such as in the excellent film The Miracle Worker, the equally meritorious My Left Foot, and the brilliant Canadian film Maudie. Sometimes, as in Lean on Me, the protagonist, despite being presented as having achieved a measure of greatness, comes across as somewhat repugnant. Sometimes, as in Stand and Deliver, the facts are twisted to show the character in a better light than is perhaps deserved. Sometimes the protagonist is idealized in such a way as to make the film truly controversial, even objectionable. For example, the entertaining and generally highly esteemed The Blind Side, perhaps seen by most viewers as an object lesson in ideal racial relations, has been dismissed by Robin DiAngelo in her book White Fragility as “fundamentally insidiously anti-black” (Beacon Press, 2018, p. 83).
And this, of course, brings us to the main concern. We are all familiar with biographical films that are “based on fact” but use the facts to convey an invalid message. The important thing is that we welcome a film about a person whom we can see, despite flaws, is well-intentioned and contributing to the general good. It is for this reason that, by contrast, Griffiths’ The Birth of a Nation has been universally and rightly condemned as promoting racial hatred.
One can understand that some may be concerned about a statue of Washington or Jefferson; after all, they were slave owners. However, judged by the standards of their day, one can see that for them, this was an acceptable norm. It may be almost impossible for us today to understand how any Christian could accept the institution of slavery, but it was not then generally regarded as contrary to the teachings of Christ. In fact, some justified slavery because it is not specifically condemned in the New Testament.
However, statues to these men were erected not because they were slave owners, but because of the great contribution they made to their country. It is an altogether different matter when it comes to a Confederate leader who waged war to destroy that country – in direct opposition to the norms of the time and the values of that country. Washington and Jefferson, unlike the Confederates, were in their own flawed fashion attempting to build a perfect union and have properly been honoured for that. The Civil War was, of course, waged, to preserve the Union, not to end slavery, though that was one of its ostensible results. Those who attempted to break up the Union were regarded as traitors. Those who opposed them were regarded as heroes.
That should be the perspective from which statues to famous men should be regarded. Despite their flaws, they were aiming for the good of their fellow men.
So have the British people rightly honoured Churchill, despite his errors in his outstanding role as wartime leader. Clearly, heroes must be judged above all for their intentions in and contributions to the age in which they lived. Conversely, the Germans have erected no statues to Hitler and the Italians have erected no statues to Mussolini, though the latter men were just as famous as Churchill.
We Canadians have erected statues to Sir John A. Macdonald. It is a grim historical reality that his treatment of Indigenous people was totally reprehensible. This clearly raises strong objections by many to regarding him as a person deserving of commemoration. Such a view is understandable; many would regard it as incontrovertible.
However, Macdonald is also regarded by many as the most important Father of Confederation, worthy, despite his appalling racism, of being honoured for having helped bring into existence a country of which most Canadians are largely proud. This in no way is meant to be honouring an abject racist, but rather a patriotic leader with a flawed vision – a vision which was shared by many at that time and for many years to come, so much so that many would argue right down to the present day that we have no worthy national leader.
I do hope to argue the opposite does not come across as racially insensitive. In fact Canada has a history punctuated by racism: Indigenous people denied the vote until 1960, and a government policy intent on destroying their culture; blacks, their history in Africville deliberately destroyed as if they had never lived there, while many today are still being racially profiled; Indians, when the Komagata Maru was refused landing in 1914; the Chinese with the head tax; the Japanese, interned during World War II with no justification and no compensation for lost property; the Jews, as when the St. Louis full of refugees from Europe was turned away, while those in Canada were faced with years of social disbarring.
It is not a pretty picture, and it is up to us of later generations to repair the damage that we now recognize as having been done by the white people against so many racial minorities. After so many missteps, I am hopeful in that the first fumbling efforts are being made to redress the wrongs of the past.
It will all take time, and I won’t be alive to see it, but it is to be hoped that by the time Canada celebrates its bicentenary in 2067, Canada will have rendered justice to all its minorities. Insofar as it is already trying to do this, and insofar as it may well accomplish this, one must also recognize that this is possible only because Canada has been established as a country with high ideals.
Inasmuch as we continue to respect and love these ideals of that country which Macdonald helped create, it is fitting then that we should respect Macdonald despite his faults. While the political and racial controversy surrounding him would certainly provide timely fodder for a future biopic, as a Father of Confederation he is surely worthy of commemoration.