Is our history safe in the hands of our museum curators? | thearticle

Nelson’s Column has been one of London’s most famous landmarks ever since it was erected in 1843. Both the Column and its equally familiar setting, Trafalgar Square, were created to

commemorate the great naval victory over Napoleon’s French and Spanish fleets that took place 215 years ago next week. Surely nothing could be more permanent than these monuments to Admiral

Lord Nelson, who was once known to the nation as “the Hero”?   Yet this week we learn that the National Maritime Museum in Greenwich is reviewing Nelson’s status in reaction to the “momentum

built up by the Black Lives Matter movement”. The man in charge of the Museum’s parent body is Paddy Rogers, Director of Royal Museums Greenwich. In response to press reports over the

weekend, he confirmed that changes in the portrayal of Nelson were afoot: “We have no plans to change our presentation or interpretation of him at present, but inevitably will do so in the

future, to ensure his continuing interest to future generations.” Rogers added that “Nelson’s enduring appeal is his complexity as both vulnerable and heroic”. Well, poor old Horatio is

certainly vulnerable to the unwelcome attentions of museum curators and bureaucrats. Despite opinion polls having repeatedly shown that large majorities of the public are consistently

opposed to subjecting the heroic individuals and great events of our history to reinterpretations intended to belittle them, the revisionist juggernaut goes on. The Maritime Museum already

has a permanent exhibition devoted to the Royal Navy’s role in the slave trade and its abolition. On the strength of one anti-abolitionist letter, written on the eve of the Battle of

Trafalgar in which he would die, Nelson’s life and achievements are to be brought into question. This process has accelerated so much that it is now seen as “inevitable” that a new

“narrative” will have to be concocted — not on the basis of scholarship, but as a genuflection to the zeitgeist.   This demythologising of our history won’t stop at museums. There was once a

Nelson’s Pillar in the centre of Dublin. It was blown up because it did not fit the new Irish nationalist narrative, even though Ireland had been part of the UK at the time of Trafalgar. It

may be hard to imagine Nelson being removed from his column and Trafalgar Square being renamed by some future British Government. But we might live to see just such a disgrace, unless we

can protect our history from those who are paid to be the guardians of our heritage. There are many museums in London with collections of objects that have an imperial provenance , from the

largest, such as the British Museum (whose co-founder Sir Hans Sloane is already in the crosshairs for his connection to slavery), to the smallest, including Sir John Soane’s Museum, the

great architect’s cabinet of curiosities. Once these repositories of our national memory are obliged to justify their existence by the arbitrary standards of self-appointed inquisitors, they

are bound to be found wanting. Also potentially ripe for “review” is Carlyle’s House in Cheyne Row, where the sage of Chelsea and his equally erudite wife, Jane, once lived. It is a unique

time capsule, preserving for posterity the home of an eminent Victorian man of letters. But Carlyle is a deeply unfashionable figure now, above all for his notorious defence of

slave-ownership in the _Occasional Discourse on the Negro Question. _Compared to this piece of folly_, _his works and influence, not to mention the prodigious epistolary legacy of the

Carlyles’ marriage, will weigh lightly in the balance, even though his arguments were refuted at the time in a rejoinder by John Stuart Mill. The Victorians knew how to give praise where it

was due, while punishing the occasional _bêtise. _We, it seems, prefer to condemn outright, rather than distinguish between virtue and vice. It is not suggested that the purpose and function

of museums should be above criticism. There is always a good case for rethinking how the past can be relived in the present. A good example is the Mozarteum in Salzburg, which has allowed

the composer’s own violin to be heard properly for the first time in two centuries. Christoph Koncz, an Austro-Hungarian virtuoso, had the idea of taking the precious relic out of its

display case so that modern listeners can hear Mozart’s music as he would have done. “I have been allowed to bring it back to life again,” Koncz says, after playing the violin for long

enough to open up its “silky, silvery tone”. He has now recorded the five concertos that were written for this uniquely original instrument. Helping us to better understand Mozart has

nothing to do with creating a new “narrative” that tears him off his pedestal. Curators have a noble calling which embraces a wide range of techniques for awakening the interest of the

young. A few museums are dedicated to the worst crimes in history, notably the Holocaust. Slavery comes into this category and in Britain, at least, its history is no longer neglected. Most

museums, however, are not established to “deconstruct” the past or to denigrate our ancestors. They exist to remind us of where we come from and who we are. Our understanding of our history

may evolve along with scholarship, but history is not there to be rewritten for the convenience of the present. The British people cannot and should not reinvent itself to suit the agenda of

contemporary identity politics. On Trafalgar Day, a week on Wednesday, let us raise a glass to Horatio Nelson, an authentic British hero if ever there was one.