Chiselling away at some legacies of Canada’s complicated statues
From Queen’s Park, they face outwards down University Ave.
Elevated above the path walked daily by Ontario politicians, the historic statues look down with steely eyes. They have done so for decades. Down the road, at city hall, there are even more of the figures.
The impact of such statues has been the subject of growing debate in recent weeks. An argument over Confederate statues in the United States took a bloody turn in Charlottesville, Va., recently, when a white nationalist drove into a crowd of counterprotesters, killing one of them, 32-year-old Heather Heyer.
Closer to home came a call from the Elementary Teachers’ Federation of Ontario to remove the name of John A. Macdonald, the first prime minister of Canada, from schools.
On a recent afternoon, Adam Bunch, who is writing a book about Toronto’s history, sat on the steps of Queen’s Park to talk about some of the complex legacies the city’s statues immortalize in metal and stone.
(Bunch penned a string of tweets that garnered substantial attention, as he provided commentary on the historical context of some of the city’s monuments.)
“Their stories are more complicated than just putting a person on a pedestal and adding a little plaque with a date would suggest,” he said.
John Graves Simcoe
“John Graves Simcoe is over there behind the trees,” said Bunch as he gestured from Queen’s Park’s front steps. Tucked behind foliage, the inaugural lieutenantgovernor of Upper Canada and founder of Toronto leans jauntily on a walking stick, a sash around his waist.
“What if someone wanted to erect a statue of Rob Ford?” SHANNON MCDEEZ FELLOW AT THE UNIVERSITY OF TORONTO
“We should remember history and learn from it, instead of pretending it never happened.” SANDRA MCKEOWN IRISH ASSOCIATION OF TORONTO
Simcoe, to Bunch, is “a good example of how complicated things get when you start to dig (into things).”
Although Simcoe was an abolitionist who worked tirelessly to eliminate slavery in the province, he later took command of British troops in Haiti, fighting against the slave uprising of the Haitian Revolution.
Simcoe didn’t free any existing slaves with his Act Against Slavery. It prohibited new slaves being brought into Upper Canada, but also kept existing slaves in captivity for the remainder of their lives, with their children enslaved until they reached age 25.
Shannon McDeez, the organizer of the Toronto Unity Rally and a fellow at the University of Toronto, pointed out that Simcoe’s contributions certainly have a place in Canadian history.
But she believes the monument is better suited to a museum than a public space.
“Art or statues in a public space should be non-partisan for the benefit of all of the community,” said McDeez, who added that giving citizens the chance to learn about figures of Canada’s political past on their own time would avoid hurtful histories being forced upon minority groups on a daily basis.
Historical figures aren’t either heroes or villains, she said, they have nuances, and can be capable of both beautiful and terrible acts. “What if someone wanted to erect a statue of (Stephen) Harper? What if someone wanted to erect a statue of Rob Ford?”
“Public space is not the place for partisan art.” George Brown On a tall, dowel-like platform by the Queen’s Park front steps, George Brown reaches out his hand and steps forward, just inching off his pedestal.
“Father of Confederation, founder of the Globe newspaper,” Bunch said. “He passionately supported and did work on behalf of turning Toronto into a relatively safe haven at the end of the Underground Railroad.”
Although Brown fought for Black rights, he espoused hatred towards Irish Catholics.
“He said horrible things about them, and used the Globe as a propaganda machine to incite hatred against Irish Catholics,” Bunch said. One column from the time read that “Irish beggars are to be met everywhere, and they are ignorant and vicious as they are poor.”
Notwithstanding his prejudice, some members of Toronto’s present-day Irish community do not object to the statue.
“I think he was a product of his time,” said Sandra McKeown, who emigrated from Ireland in 2002 and is the founder of the Irish Association of Toronto. Given Brown’s involvement in Canadian politics, a commemoration of his work belongs at Queen’s Park, she said.
“You cannot rewrite history by removing statues. We should remember history and learn from it, instead of pretending it never happened.
“True progress is being able to accept the past.” James Whitney “That’s James Whitney,” said Bunch, pointing to an imposing statue to the right of the steps. As if to steady himself, Whitney leans on a cloth-draped pedestal to one side, and reaches out a hand in front of him.
Whitney, the sixth premier of Ontario, came into office in 1905 and stayed for nearly 10 years. His work in securing the public ownership of hydro utilities was a “very big moment,” Bunch said.
But Whitney’s legacy, too, is tinged by prejudice; in 1912, he passed a regulation prohibiting teachers in elementary schools from speaking to students in French beyond Grade 2.
In 2016, Kathleen Wynne issued a formal apology for the decision, which she called a “wound” on Ontario’s francophone community.
Michel Prévost, chief archivist for the University of Ottawa, called Whitney’s actions “traumatic” for the Franco-Ontarian community.
But he doesn’t believe the statue should be moved.
“People know less about history if it’s in museums,” he said, explaining that passing a monument on a daily commute piques curiosity and conversation. “He is part of the history of Ontario.” In February, the Ontario government announced a monument dedicated to the francophone community will appear alongside Whitney as a feature of the Queen’s Park grounds in early 2018. Winston Churchill “Churchill is down at city hall, and he’s a pretty good example,” Bunch said. The British prime minister is revered as a great political leader and vanquisher of Nazis during the Second World War.
Churchill also had a vested affection for Canada, which he declared freely.
“He’s celebrated for good reason,” Bunch said.
“But his story is deeply woven into colonialism and the empire and fighting wars against Indigenous people around the world, which he certainly revelled in.”
Churchill once went so far as to state his strong favour towards using “poisoned gas against uncivilized tribes.”
He also called the inhabitants of India, then a British colony, a “beastly people with a beastly religion.”
The bronze installation outside city hall depicts a scowling Churchill, and was moved in 2014 from the south to the north side of Nathan Phillips Square. McDeez also spoke to Churchill’s contribution to colonialism, but reaffirmed that the debate shouldn’t be around statues or their merit.
“What I do care about is if their presence is hurting fellow citizens of the city,” she said. “Then? Yeah, we should have a discussion about it.” What now? Bunch believes that a certain clenchedteeth approach to the statue debate comes from a feeling some people may have that their heritage is being eclipsed.
“For a long time, only one side has had a voice and I imagine (they) feel threatened when anyone else wants to share the platform,” he said.
A statue freezes time, and reflects the values a culture or government had at the time it was erected. Debates emerge when those values have changed.
Taking a critical look at Toronto’s statues isn’t easy, he said, nor is it all bad. “This is a place that’s had failed revolutions and plagues and war, and brave figures doing good things, too,” he said.
But to tell the full story of the city’s history, more voices need to be heard.
“I think the most important thing is we need to do more listening to Indigenous voices, people of colour, women’s voices,” he said. “This is a house, a legislature that belongs to all Ontarians.”