How Monuments Become Political Battles
October 13, 2025 · Frisian News
Towns across Europe face fierce disputes over statues and memorials as activists demand removal while locals defend historical markers. Communities discover that stone and bronze often hide harder questions about who gets to decide the past.
In a small square near Brussels, a bronze statue of a colonial administrator stood for ninety years without complaint. Then one afternoon in 2023, local activists covered it with red paint and wrote 'murderer' on its base. The city council promised a 'consultation process.' Three years later, the statue remains wrapped in black cloth, and the town still argues about what to do with it. Nobody wants to make the final call.
This scene repeats across Europe. Monuments become battlegrounds because they force hard choices that people have avoided. A statue is not just stone. It says someone mattered enough to spend money on them, to put them in the center of town, to make citizens walk past their face every day. Remove it, and you say their story no longer belongs here. Leave it, and you say the harm they caused matters less than their other deeds. There is no neutral choice.
Local councils discover fast that monument disputes run deeper than history. A German town that removed a statue of a Wehrmacht officer faced bomb threats. A Polish city that kept its Soviet monument saw boycotts from shops and churches. In each case, the crowd that wanted removal and the crowd that wanted it to stay were fighting about belonging. Who gets to own the story of this place? Whose ancestors are heroes here? Who has a say?
The real problem is that institutions avoid the work. They form committees, they hire consultants, they promise 'dialogue.' What they avoid is deciding anything based on what the people who live there actually want. They treat monuments like text that experts can decode, when in fact they treat them like contracts that say something about power. The person whose statue stands in the square has power. The person whose name is carved below has already won.
Small towns learn that you cannot un-ring this bell. Once someone names the cost of a monument, once they say what it represents, no amount of process makes that go away. The statue comes down or it stays up, and either way, half the town is angry. Better to build something new together than to fight forever over what is dead.
Op in lyts plein ticht by Brussel stie in brûnse byldstanner van in koloniaal ambtenear njoggentich jier lang sûnder beswier. Doe hiene lokale aktivisten it op in middei yn 2023 mei roade fref bedekt en skreau 'moordenaar' op de fuot dêrfan. De gemeenteried beleaft in 'konsultaasjeproses.' Trije jier letter is de byldstanner noch altyd yn swart doek wikkele, en de stad twistet noch altyd oer wat dermei barre soe. Nemoar wol de lêste beslissing nimme.
Dizze toniel spielt har oeral yn Europa of. Monumenten wurde slagfjilden om't se swiere keuzes ôfdwinge dy't minsken hawwe ferfolle. In byldstanner is net krekt stien. It seit dat immen wichtich genôch wie om jild oan út te jaan, om harren yn it sintrum fan de stêd te setten, om boargers aldei lâns har gesicht te litte gean. Smyt it fuort, en do seit dat har ferhaal hjir net mear thúshert. Lit it stean, en do seit dat de skea dy't se dien hawwe minder telt as harren oare dieden. Der is gjin neutrale kar.
Lokale rieden ûntdekke gau dat monumentelruzies djipere gaat dan skiednis. In Dútske stêd dy't in byldstanner fan in Wehrmacht-offisier fuort smiet, krige bommelingen. In Poalske stêd dy't har Sovijet-monument hilde, seach boycots fan winkels en tsjerken. Yn elk gefal fochen de groep dy't fuort nimming woe en de groep dy't it stean woe oer bylding. Wa mei it ferhaal fan dizze plak eignast? Waans foarâlden binne helden hjir? Wa hat in say?
It echte probleem is dat ynstellingen it wurk mije. Se foarmje kommysjes, hurie konsultants, belofte 'dialog.' Wat se mije is in beslissing nimme op basis fan wat de minsken dy't der wenje echt wolle. Se behannelje monumenten as tekst dy't eksperts ûntsiferje kinne, wylst se harren yn it sein as kontrakten behannelje dy't wat oer macht sizze. De persoan waans byldstanner op it plein stiet, hat macht. De persoan waans namme dêrûnder snide is, hat al wûn.
Lytse stêden leare dat do dit net ûngedien meitsje kinne. Sa gau as immen de priis fan in monument neamt, sa gau as se sizze wat it fertsjintwurdiget, jout gjin enkelich proses dat fuort. De byldstanner giet wei of it bliuwt stean, en hoe dan ek is de helte fan de stêd ârg. Better is om mei-inoar wat niuws te bouwen as foar altyd te twisten oer wat deade is.
Published October 13, 2025 · Frisian News · Ljouwert, Fryslân