The brutal killing of George Floyd a month ago in Minneapolis, USA has led to a resurgence of the #BlackLivesMatter movement. One of the flashpoints in American cities has been the bringing down of statues of pro-slavery military and political leaders of the American Civil War.

Anyone who doubts whether history matters should witness the acrimonious passions that are ignited whenever another monument is targeted. Each consecutive statue becomes a contested totem for competing narratives of national and personal identity.

There is a long history of statues that become foci of meaning that goes well beyond the character or episode they depict. In Renaissance Rome, the Pasquino allowed Romans to vent their feelings against their rulers through anonymous notes stuck to its base.

In our local context, we have also seen how statues can become powerful symbols. In the 1970s and 1980s, the bust of prime minister Nerik Mizzi in Valletta was often the target of political ire.

Much earlier, the statue of Queen Victoria in front of the National Library also bore the brunt of anti-colonial feelings.

Until Prime Minister Robert Abela come to power, the site of Daphne Caruana Galizia’s memorial at the foot of the Great Siege Monument was bitterly contested, with the ostensible objection being the meaning and value of the monument itself.

It is therefore not surprising that the toppling of statues in the US has led to calls for a critical reassessment of the appropriateness of the siting of some statues in Malta, with the main target being that of Queen Victoria in Valletta.

Moving statues is a well-established pastime of the powerful. It is partly a result of the relative importance that current rulers give to their own achievements in preference to those of their predecessors. That of Grandmaster de Vilhena, now next to the Catholic Institute, has had quite an itinerary over the centuries.

But getting at statues to punish or delete history is dangerous and self-defeating. The destruction of pro-slavery statues in the US will not reduce by one iota the romanticised narrative of the Confederacy, white supremacy and slavery of those who today feel under cultural siege. If anything, it is more likely to increase their obdurateness.  In that direction lies more violence, which would not limit itself to statues.

Of course, the alternative is not some quietist version of ‘live and let live’ that does not challenge the disputed historical narrative. It is to critically reassess that narrative and repurpose the cultural icon as a tool for cultural re-education. The artefact thus becomes an ironic reminder and a sombre warning of the dark misdeeds it represents.

This is what has happened with the film classic Gone with the Wind. Initially it was banned from some US TV channels as part of the #BlackLivesMatter backlash. Now it is going to be aired again but with an explanation that gives the correct context to its nostalgic depiction of slavery.

Coming to terms with one’s history rather than attempting to delete it or push it aside, but in a critical way that affirms one’s identity, is a sign of maturity, for a country as much for any individual. The debate in Malta should focus on making the disputed statues symbols of a renewed sense of historical identity that is neither colonially servile, nor romanticised, nor exclusionary, but empowering of who we aspire to be today.