I have two connections to Cecil Rhodes and the controversy surrounding institutions’ memorialisation of colonial figures. My grandfather won a Rhodes Scholarship almost 70 years ago, and it was at Oxford University that he met and married my grandmother. More recently, my last years of secondary education saw controversy over my school’s statue of its founder and benefactor, Royal African Company shareholder Robert Aske.
What to make, then, of Oriel College’s recent attempts to contextualise Rhodes’ legacy? An exhibition, first shown at the college and now at the University Church, features sculptures by Zimbabwean artists of the Chitungwiza Arts Centre representing “a figurative or semi-abstract reflection on the impact of Rhodes’ colonial wars on the people of Zimbabwe”. The works are thought-provoking examinations of the past, centred around competition winner Wallace Mkhanka’s Blindfolded Justice.
Yet The Rhodes Legacy Through the Eyes of Zimbabwean Sculptors disappoints. It fails to address both Rhodes’ crimes and the influence of his money over modern Oxford, trivialising previous efforts to do so. Colonial figures’ names are immortalised across the city in buildings, statues, and portraits, ignoring their bloody legacies. Oriel, and the University, must act further against this culture of convenient forgetfulness.
Rhodes graduated from Oriel in 1881, later leaving some £300 million in today’s money for the establishment of scholarships that facilitated the study of Bill Clinton, Edwin Hubble, and Kris Kristofferson, amongst others. His money also shapes Oxford’s modern identity through his memorialisation at Oriel, Rhodes House, and beyond. Yet the origin of this wealth was far from innocent.
As founder of the British South Africa Company and chairman of the De Beers diamond company, Rhodes spearheaded ruthless and exploitative colonisation of southern Africa. The 1893 and 1896–7 wars against the Ndebele and Shona peoples, which the exhibition discusses, killed an estimated 20,000–25,000 people. The Battle of Shangani alone killed 1,500 Ndebele – Rhodes’ response to this was: “The shooting must have been excellent.”
The wealth that helps fund the University is inextricable from these atrocities. Beginning in Cape Town in 2015, the Rhodes Must Fall (RMF) movement sought to address Rhodes’ memorialisation by campaigning for the global removal of his statues. RMF soon gained solidarity in Oxford but, after a “listening exercise,” a commission decided to retain the High Street statue. In 2020, a crowd of over 1,000 protested outside Oriel, and the college initially voted for relocation. The college then changed course, citing difficulties altering the Grade I listed building amidst threats by alumni to withdraw a potential £100 million in donations and gifts.
Instead, Oriel adopted a policy of “retain and explain”. Contextualisation, supported by public figures such as historian Mary Beard to avoid the supposed erasure of the past, was a compromise preferable to continued ignorance. But it has produced only a small sign outside Oriel’s High Street entrance, mentioning “exploitation of minerals, land and peoples” as the source of Rhodes’ vast wealth.
Oriel’s exhibition is cited as the continuation of this policy, but its portrayal of Rhodes’ actions and the RMF movement are trivialising and disrespectful. Appearing to present itself as the closing act of discussion around Oxford’s involvement in Empire, it discourages the bitterly needed conversation about the continued use of Rhodes’ name and wealth.
This is not to belittle the work of the sculptors, which Chitungwiza Arts Centre chairman Tendai Gwarazava described as a “crucial step towards healing and reconciliation”. The four pieces are poignant reflections on imperial oppression and the silencing of Zimbabwean voices. They cover themes such as labour exploitation, enforced Christianisation, and the abuse of women.
By contrast, the exhibition’s attempts at contextualisation are symbolic rather than critical; the gravity of Rhodes’ crimes is defined in vague terms. The posters supposedly explaining RMF accuse student activists of naivety, “unnerving the University”, and “failing to recognise the extent to which the institution was changing” through an increasingly diverse student body.
But diversity does not absolve Oxford of colonial complicity. Cecil Rhodes’ legacy is an issue that needs to be addressed through participatory discussions on his influence over the University. These must centre the voices of nations that suffered under the Empire. They must plainly expose the harm Rhodes caused, and end the exclusion of those opposed to his glorification.
As the 2015 Rhodes Must Fall petition stated, this memorialisation is “an open glorification of the racist and bloody project of British colonialism” – one that must be addressed through properly historicised contextualisation. Critical evaluations of Rhodes’ legacy with the placement of the statue in a museum, for example, would be infinitely preferable to this exhibition’s unwillingness to address the uncomfortable legacies of Oxford’s imperial past.
Even if Rhodes’ statue does not fall, the University must confront who he was, what he did, and where his money came from.
The exhibition is at the University Church of St Mary the Virgin until 7 December.
