Why should we consider the legacy of transatlantic enslavement when exploring racial dynamics in the city of Bristol?
In the summer of 2020, the Colston statue was toppled and thrown into Bristol’s harbour by anti-racism protestors. For some Bristolians, this may have evoked memories of another event in this history: the St Pauls disturbance of 1980. This entry will attempt to contextualise these events within Bristol’s wider history of transatlantic enslavement and its harrowing legacy. It is crucial that we understand this legacy, in order to truly understand the racial tensions which culminated in these respective events.
[Note the use of the term enslaved as opposed to slave. We should try to avoid the latter, opting for the former, because it assumes that people were born as slaves. They were not slaves. They were enslaved through the institution of slavery.] [See reference no.1]
The city of Bristol played a sinister role in the dark history of transatlantic enslavement. Much of the city’s historic wealth is underpinned by the institution of slavery, the remnants of which are visible in the urban landscape. This enduring legacy poses a threat both to public memory, through implicit glorification of British imperial history, and to Black identity in Bristol. In the eighteenth century, Bristol became one of the lead slave trading ports, and by 1730 dominated the trade. David Richardson’s research has illustrated that between 1698 and 1807, around 2,060 voyages to Africa were financed by Bristol merchants, a sobering reminder of the city’s role in one of humanity’s worst atrocities. Estimates reveal 587,000 enslaved Africans were transported to America during this period, and only 82% survived the trip. [ref no.2] This meant that 101,000 Africans died during the voyage. Bristol would continue to reap the benefits of trade derived from plantation systems for decades after the abolition of slavery in 1807.
Prior to the violent outbreak that unfolded in St Paul’s on April 2nd 1980, authorities had not yet publicly acknowledged Bristol’s role in this traumatic past. The public memory of transatlantic enslavement was non-existent. The exclusion of Black history from public discourse was damaging for Bristol’s Black community and intensified racial tensions, provoking serious discontent. The failure to address this aspect of Bristol’s past was to persist until the mid-1990’s. The final straw was the International Festival of the Sea, in May 1996, which saw a city-wide celebration of Bristol’s maritime history glorify key nautical explorers such as John Cabot and Woodes Rogers, but omit the city’s involvement in transatlantic enslavement. [ref no.3] Following this, the Bristol Slave Trade Action Group (BSTAG) was established to pay homage to Bristol’s synonymous relationship with transatlantic enslavement. The narrative had finally begun to shift.
Sold Down the River, by Tony Forbes in 1999. Currently on display at M Shed, Bristol.
‘When I look at Colston’s statue I just think of dead children. I can handle the fact that the statue is there, but there's nothing to say that he was a slave trader. It was erected in 1895 'by the people of Bristol'. Over a century later, isn't it time for Bristolians to express their feelings about today's multi-cultural society?’
– Tony Forbes, artist statement.
The above painting, ‘Sold Down the River’ by Tony Forbes, was commissioned for the exhibition ‘A Respectable Trade? Bristol & Transatlantic Slavery’ in 1999. [ref no.4] The painting depicts a self-portrait of the artist in chains against the backdrop of the Festival of the Sea, bound by the statue of Edward Colston. The imagery is thought-provoking, offering an insight into how members of Bristol’s Black community may have perceived narratives of the maritime past which totally excluded the plight of enslaved Africans. The formidable sight of the Colston statue holding chains to the artists neck evokes thoughts of the notorious slave trader continuing to torment Black Bristolians through his looming presence in the city’s urban landscape, most notably his statue. This sense of betrayal is encapsulated in Forbes’ artist statement.
Photos: Oshi Morris-Todd
22 years after Forbes’ painting, Bristolians have now expressed their feelings about today’s multi-cultural society. The statue no longer resides over the city’s landscape. It no longer celebrates an individual that made his fortunes through the exploitation of enslaved Africans. It does not remind the city’s Afro-Caribbean community of the gross injustice forced upon their ancestors, resonating with their own race and shared identity. Both events, the St Pauls disturbance (1980) and the fall of the Colston statue (2020) are inextricably linked to a long history of racial inequality in Britain and structural racism of their individual present times. We have a responsibility to be aware of Bristol’s history of transatlantic enslavement, as only in doing so, can we gauge the longstanding racial tensions that had been apparent within the city prior to each event.
Some questions to think about:
How could the city overlook the history that it was built on? Was it an attempt to disassociate historical truth? Distance the blame?
Joe Feagin opens the first chapter of his book, The White Racial Frame: Centuries of Racial Framing and Counter-Framing, with ‘The better we know our racial past, the better we know our racial present.’ Do you agree?
Knowing how destructive the statue of Edward Colston was to Bristol’s Black community, did Bristol City Council not have a moral duty to intervene?
Feedback always welcome! Comment what you think below, or head over to the padlet to share your ideas!
For a list of the literature included in this post, please look here under the title, ‘Bristol’s legacy of transatlantic enslavement.’