1. The weight of memorial markers in the public space

“The walls of Brussels breathe and speak, but do not lie. For they are formed by layers of imbricated strata where all epochs survive and pile up...” Quoted in [De Vet, ed.: 2018, 114].

2For French philosopher and sociologist Maurice Halbwachs [quoted in Jalabert, 2022: 9], “space is a bearer of memory”. These memorial markers are symbols which refer to history and memory, to the point of becoming “constitutive referents of the identity of a group of individuals” [Jalabert, 2022: 11]. Like museums, archives and commemorations, statues are part of the memorial infrastructures “... [through which] people express their memories, experiences, views and knowledge” of people. As such, they enable us to understand “how individuals, communities and institutions deal with the past” and attribute meaning to it [Grever, 2023: 4,5]. It is therefore not surprising for them to be in the news when people feel excluded from certain messages or, worse, feel offended by them.

3In debates on controversial memorial markers, the relationship between history (a problematic and incomplete reconstruction of the past) and memory (which is alive, evolving and unaware of its successive distortions) is a crucial point [Nora, 1984]. History and memory are not necessarily in opposition [Gentry and Smith, 2019] and may even enrich each other, as collective memory allows a renewal of historiography [Joutard, 2015]. Tensions arise when history is “warm” [Wansink et al., 2018], i.e. when there is a significant emotional charge surrounding an event (usually traumatic), which continues to influence later generations to the point of arousing strong moral reactions related to a collective or intra-family identity [Cordonnier et al., 2022]. This collective identity is shaped by the collective memory of certain events and has an impact on the way certain social groups are represented [Liu and Hilton, 2005].

4The construction of identities relies on the events, places and people [Liu and Hilton, 2005] behind the many founding and dominant narratives (“master narratives”) which give meaning to a societal vision [Heller, 2006; Carretero, 2018]. Especially in the second half of the 19^th century, these narratives contributed to the creation or reinforcement of national identities [Reid, 2019] and stimulated social cohesion by creating “imagined communities” [Anderson, 1983]. These were more or less covert attempts to reinforce ordinary nationalism [Billig, 1996] or even policies aimed explicitly at imposing historical narratives intended to unite the population. By simple deduction, this logic of inclusion has also led to the exclusion of certain social groups [Psaltis et al., 2017].

5Public space has thus become a place of confrontation driven by memorial markers which reflect political choices [Dobruszkes, 2010; Tartakowski, 2022] and are recognised as “belonging” to certain population groups [Papen, 2012]. Throughout the world, they are tangible, functional and artistic instruments conveying a message [Joutard, 2015], which is generally one-sided and rooted in a vision of the world constructed by the politically dominant group [Gensburger and Wustenberg, 2023; Kolvraa and Knudsen, 2020].

6This synopsis will examine the “controversial memorial markers” in Brussels: symbols which – at the time of their inauguration – conveyed political, ideological or moral values which were less and less widely shared over time, to the point of giving rise to an increasing number of complaints and protests [KNAW, 2023].

7The questioning of memorial markers is not a recent phenomenon [Rigney, 2022]. Statues and monuments have been destroyed or relocated throughout history. Around the world, political decision-makers have often modified the memorial landscape of their countries by erasing certain historical references, particularly during regime changes [Rigney, 2022; Gensburger and Wüstenberg, 2023]. In Belgium, as in many other countries, recent decades have been characterised by the vigorous protesting of memorial markers accused of conveying racist, colonialist or sexist ideas. In this process, civil society has played a key role, increasing the number of transnational protests [Rigney, 2022: 10].

8Following a presentation of the characteristics of the controversial memorial landscape in Brussels, this synopsis summarises the most recent debates and, above all, the responses to them. This approach is all the more relevant given that Brussels – a city-region which centralises a number of national and international functions – has seen a deep transformation of the profile of its population since the birth of the Belgian state. Internal and external migratory movements, reinforced by the establishment of European and international institutions, have led to nearly 180 nationalities living side by side in Brussels today. This evolution has of course contributed to diversifying the perception of memorial markers in the urban landscape since the 19^th century and has obliged public authorities to respond to these protests.

10Below, we examine some of the characteristics of the Brussels memorial landscape and its evolution in the public space, as well as the funding for memorial markers and their uses (point 2). We will then present a typology of the strategies used to respond to protests (point 3), which we will then illustrate with a few examples from Brussels, presenting the main arguments from these debates (point 4).

2. Characteristics of the public memorial landscape in Brussels

11In its report on controversial monuments, the Royal Netherlands Academy of Arts and Sciences recommends that municipal officials should acquire strategic knowledge of all monuments and statues in their territory, regardless of whether there is controversy surrounding them, and even carry out a genuine study of the “memorial landscape” [KNAW, 2023]. Of course, this recommendation also applies to Brussels: in order to fully understand the debates, we first need to understand the characteristics of the public memorial landscape in Brussels.

2.1. The 19^th century and “statuomania”

13Representations of the official inaugurations of these monuments convey the image of a strongly united country, while at the same time casting a veil over the controversies surrounding some of them. Thus, for example, the liberals in power in Brussels throughout the 19^th century were careful to symbolise their power by erecting statues paying tribute to liberal ideology, figures and key concepts which were important to them, such as liberty or the autonomy of cities [Röttger, 2006: 27]. The full-length statue of Pierre-Théodore Verhaegen (1796-1862) in front of Palais Granvelle – then home to Université libre de Bruxelles (which he co-founded) – is a good example (today it stands on the Solbosch campus along Avenue Franklin Roosevelt), as are those of Charles Rogier, Auguste Orts, Jules Anspach, Nicolas-Jean Rouppe, Charles de Brouckère and Walthère Frère-Orban. In so doing, the liberals broke with the tradition of depicting religious or royal subjects in the public space. Their choices caused discontent on the benches of the Catholic party, which was a minority in Brussels and therefore unable to celebrate its own emblematic representatives in the same way [De Spiegeleer, 2019]. These examples illustrate the significance of political power in decisions to place statues in urban spaces.

2.2. Wars and decolonisation

14The end of World War I marked the first major turning point in the memorial landscape of Brussels. As the only western capital to have been occupied by the Germans, Brussels was deeply marked by the war and decided to erase direct or indirect references to the former enemy as quickly as possible, in favour of war heroes and heroines such as Albert I, Edith Cavell and Gabrielle Petit [van Ypersele et al., 2014; de Schaepdrijver 2014; Jaumain et al., 2016].

15Urban growth also made it possible to create new memorial markers through street names: new streets in rapidly growing municipalities such as Auderghem and Ganshoren, for example, were named after local soldiers who had died in battle [Kesteloot, 2024]. The end of World War II saw the renaming of several major local roads in honour of the victors, including Avenue de Stalingrad, Franklin Roosevelt, Général De Gaulle and Winston Churchill, as well as Square Montgomery.

16At the same time, the number of new statues (and fountains) inaugurated in Brussels continued to grow until the 21st century, as shown in Figure 3.

Sources: Inventaire du patrimoine architectural de la Région de Bruxelles-Capitale and “Brussels remembers”: https://www.brusselsremembers.com/​ Accessed on April 2021

17Despite some occasional criticism, it was not until the beginning of the 21^st century that the controversy surrounding memorial markers took on an unprecedented scale, centred on references to Belgian colonisation [Stanard, 2011 and 2019; Goddeeris, 2015]. The movement first came to public attention in Ostend in 2004, when activists from the De Stoeten Ostendoare group carried out an act on a monument in honour of the colonial policies of Leopold II: the hand of a Congolese figure was severed in reference to the policy of severed hands. In 2008, the equestrian statue of Leopold II in Place du Trône was painted red by artist and activist Théophile de Giraud. The act was carried out in front of the media, giving it an unprecedented impact. The controversy spread quickly to other representations linked to the colonial period: busts of King Baudouin and General Storms, the monument to Belgian pioneers in Congo, the arches of the Cinquantenaire, and various street names and monuments were at the heart of the protests [Jacobs, 2018; Goddeeris et al., 2020; Lewis, 2022; Guillaume, 2022; Abrassart et al., 2022].”

18In fact, these criticisms were part of a transnational movement of demands for social justice, denouncing racism as well as police violence [McGonigle Leyh, 2020: 240]. Soon afterwards, feminist associations began to denounce the invisibilisation of women and gender minorities in monuments and place names, coupled with the continued use of symbols of submission, illustrated by the posture or clothing of the few women represented in public space [Gubin, 2006; Sterckx, 2009; Ouali, 2015 and 2021].

19Some people expressed indifference with respect to these protests, others a lack of understanding, or even outright hostility, not hesitating to remove the graffiti from the statues. These movements generated heated debates, as public authorities are sometimes forced to make quick decisions (e.g. with respect to certain types of damage) without taking the time to reflect and consult, as we shall see later.

2.3. Ownership, funding and maintenance of memorial markers

20In the 19th century, most of the statues erected in Brussels were commissioned and funded by the public authorities (national, provincial or municipal). Some, however, were the result of (lengthy) public subscriptions, particularly after World War I [de Schaepdrijver, 2014].

21The public space in Brussels is also dotted with monuments donated by foreign nations. In 1924, British sculptor Georges Frampton presented the City of Brussels with a copy of his statue of Peter Pan in Kensington Gardens in London, to celebrate the friendship between the children of the two countries after the hardships and suffering endured during World War I. This statue can still be seen today in Parc d’Egmont. In the second half of the 20^th century, the gradual establishment of European institutions in Brussels also left its mark in public spaces. A copy of the statue of Don Quixote in Madrid donated by Spain in 1989 was erected in Place d'Espagne. A few years later, the city of Budapest donated a statue of Hungarian composer Béla Viktor János Bartók (1881-1945), which was placed opposite Don Quixote. In 2009, remnants of the Berlin Wall were erected in the shadow of the European Parliament.

22In addition to European countries, other countries have also sought to bring their symbols to Brussels. In 1975, Argentina presented Woluwe-Saint-Pierre with a copy of the statue erected in Buenos Aires of José de San Martín, the general who fought for the independence of Argentina, Chile and Peru. In 1992, a statue of Simon Bolivar, liberator and creator of Greater Colombia, was erected in Avenue Franklin Roosevelt at Avenue du Venezuela, and in 2011, a bust of Bolivar was donated to Belgium to mark the bicentenary of the country's independence. It was placed in the boulevard bearing his name near Gare du Nord. In 2014, the Comité Allende 40 donated a bust of Salvador Allende to Université libre de Bruxelles to commemorate the fortieth anniversary of the assassination of the former Chilean president. It was placed in Avenue Paul Héger.

25Knowing who funded, donated and inaugurated a memorial marker helps us to better understand the reasons behind its presence in public space, and determines ownership and responsibility for the upkeep of the object. In the event of a dispute, the owners and those responsible for the object are directly involved. If ownership is shared or poorly defined, the response in the event of a dispute is all the more complex. A well-known example is the equestrian statue of Leopold II in Place du Trône in Brussels. Created following a public subscription and inaugurated in 1926, the pedestal now belongs to the City of Brussels, while the equestrian statue is the property of the Régie fédérale des bâtiments. Therefore, if anything happens to this memorial marker – which is often the focus of protests – there needs to be cooperation between these two levels of power.

26Furthermore, in addition to the ownership of the work, copyright must also be taken into account. If an original work of art is less than 70 years old, copyright may apply, subjecting any initiative to modify it to the agreement of the author, or his or her descendants or legal successors [Abrassart et al., 2022].

2.4. Uses and new uses

27Over time, memorial markers which are well established in the public space can be taken over by different social groups which were not behind their inauguration, and their original meaning can change. Sometimes, political and institutional stakeholders use these markers to serve their own ends, as was the case with the Battle of the Golden Spurs in 1302, which was initially used to build the Belgian identity, and later reinterpreted by Flemish nationalists [Fransen, 2005; Witte, 2016]. The commemorations organised by the Flemish (11 July) and French (27 September) Communities in Brussels also illustrate this desire to assert their identities beyond the festivities celebrating the Belgian state (21 July).

28This phenomenon is not limited to the public authorities. The monument in honour of the colonial Force Publique, erected in Avenue Huart-Hamoir by the Union Royale des Fraternelles Coloniales (Urfracol) in 1970, was taken over in 2010 by the decolonial association Bakushinta to commemorate Congolese participation in the World Wars, which, according to them, had been ignored in traditional November 11^th ceremonies.

29The same commemorative object can therefore be used to convey different messages by different groups. Such is the case of the statue of Gabrielle Petit, which was erected in Place Saint-Jean in 1923 and used both for patriotic commemorations and to evoke the role of women during World War I [de Schaepdrijver, 2014].

3. Typology of intervention strategies for controversial memorial markers

30During a debate in the Brussels Parliament on 13 July 2020, Secretary of State Pascal Smet referred to two “schools of thought” regarding the future of controversial statues:

“The first is in favour of removing statues which glorify a past which should not be glorified. The second is in favour of saving the statues, provided they are contextualised and explained. There are variations in both schools of thought, and the people of Brussels have already made several suggestions” [Commission du développement territorial – Session 2019-2020: 84].

31In fact, numerous studies show that the protests against statues (as well as against symbols, memorial sites and intangible commemorations) go beyond this apparent binary opposition. Several works have presented an initial typology of monument protests [KNAW, 2023], and even a typology of “de-commemoration” [Gensburger and Wüstenberg, 2023]. Several studies have already put forward proposals to support decision-makers in managing these protests, mainly regarding colonial traces in the Flemish Region [de Reu et al., 2020] and in the Brussels Region [Abrassart et al., 2022].

32A careful observation of the various strategies developed in Brussels between 2020 and 2024 has enabled us to propose a new typology based on a double axis: the visibilisation of the protest (or its invisibilisation), and the place of intervention (on the memorial marker, in the immediate vicinity or in a remote location). We were thus able to identify and place six strategies on these axes in order to answer a very simple question: how to react to protest regarding a memorial marker?

1. Defending the status quo: not responding to the protests. The object is left as is in the public space;

2. Something is added directly to the controversial object (an explanatory plaque, a QR code, a sheet covering the object, etc.);

3. Something is added indirectly in response to the controversial object: a different perspective from that conveyed by the object is presented in another place (another statue, another bust, a street name located in another part of the city, etc.) or in virtual space (a digital device, an online article or a website);

4. Disapproval of the object takes place directly by transforming it visually (changing its colour, amputating it, moving it on its pedestal or to another location, etc.) so as to draw attention to it;

5. Disapproval of the object takes place indirectly, i.e. in another space (physical or virtual) which corresponds with the controversial object. This fifth strategy is very similar to the third strategy (indirect addition), but differs in that it makes a direct criticism, whereas indirect addition simply proposes another perspective;

6. Remove the controversial object from the public space. Depending on the circumstances, the object may be destroyed or moved out of the public space (to a shed, an archive, a museum, etc.).

33This typology proposes a novel and more complex approach than existing typologies, by defining two criteria in the analysis of reactions to a controversial memorial marker (the place of intervention and the degree of visibility of the protest). It can support decision-makers, administrations, activists and users of public space in general in their (re)actions regarding a memorial marker which is the object of protests by activists or by decision-makers themselves. (Demands for) adaptations to the symbolic memorial landscape are not only the work of activists, but may also be driven by decision-makers seeking to reflect a change of regime (e.g. after the Liberation of 1945) or a societal transformation in the public space (e.g. to give women greater visibility), and may even be used as a “smokescreen” (in an attempt to close a debate quickly and avoid in-depth dialogue) [Gensburger and Wüstenberg, 2023].

35Furthermore, many users of the public space, who are neither activists nor decision-makers, express their views regarding these protests. Finally, it should be added that these different strategies are not exclusive; they can be combined, successively or simultaneously.

36In order to illustrate and better understand these six strategies, we present a few examples of the reactions of activists, associations, citizens, administrations and political decision-makers in Brussels to controversial symbols.

4. Cases and controversies in Brussels illustrating the typology of interventions

4.1. Strategy A: Defend the status quo

38When faced with a controversial memorial marker, a first strategy consists in defending the status quo, i.e. maintaining the marker in its original state. This could mean cleaning it or repairing it after damage, or even protecting it with fencing, anti-graffiti varnish, glass, etc. The equestrian statue of Leopold II in Place du Trône is a good example. The many protests against it have had little impact on political decision-makers (the City of Brussels and the federal government), as any signs of protest have been removed each time. The Brussels-Capital Region did put a working group in charge of reflecting on colonial traces, but the group's recommendations for the future of the statue (including melting it and using the melted material to create a memorial to the victims of colonisation [Abrassart et al., 2022]) did not lead to opening a dialogue.

40There are four recurring arguments in our body of arguments which express explicit support for the status quo strategy.

1. Defending the status quo avoids presentism, i.e. an approach to history which does not consider events from a distance or in context [Goegebeur and Van Nieuwenhuyse, 2010]. Defending the status quo would avoid instrumentalising the past for political ends;

2. • 13 Minutes from the meeting of the “bust of Roger Nols” working group, 13 October 2022, Brussels Studi (...)

   Defending the status quo helps to avoid reviving the violence and reopening old wounds. In the discussions about what to do with the bust of Roger Nols13, this argument was based on the assumption that the former mayor had been forgotten. Interfering in any way with the bust would draw attention to him, at the risk of reviving the racist and xenophobic positions he defended;

3. • 14 PESESSE, Jean-Christophe, DEQUEKER, Camille and DE KNOP, Thibault, 2022. Faut-il déboulonner le bus (...)

   A third argument in favour of this strategy condemns the temptation to use it as a “scapegoat”. By focusing criticism on a single individual (Roger Nols, Leopold II, etc.), we are ignoring the mechanisms which enabled the individual to establish his policies: electoral, political, religious and economic support14;

4. • 15 ZANA EMBALA, Mathieu, 2017. Een volk zonder geschiedenis. In: De Standaard, 14 December 2017 [onlin (...)

   A final argument points out that there are other priorities for helping populations which have suffered due to the people whose statues are now the subject of controversy. On the topic of the equestrian statue of Leopold II in Place du Trône, historian Mathieu Zana Etambala declared: “Drugs and unemployment among young Africans in Belgium are more pressing concerns than the question of whether or not to remove the statue of the rubber magnate”15.

41Conversely, several arguments against this strategy were raised in our workshops and in the literature. Some researchers argue that establishing a hierarchy of what is and is not a priority may lead to the avoidance of certain sensitive subjects, like teachers who are reluctant to discuss the contemporary impact of historical processes such as colonisation [Savenije and Goldberg, 2019].

42Thus, not talking about a painful or sensitive episode in history on the grounds that there are other priorities risks generating a taboo which will very soon be criticised [Savenije and Goldberg, 2019].

43Some also believe that defending the status quo (by cleaning and repairing the controversial memorial marker) means ignoring the protests of a part of the population which often already feels excluded from the founding narratives [Carretero, 2018, see above].

44On the other hand, defending the status quo conceals the wounds of the past, which are often still alive (see “warm” history above). By leaving controversial figures on their pedestals, we fail to face up to the racist or discriminatory acts which have hurt part of the population, generating forms of “collective oblivion” [Cordonnier et al., 2022].

46This glorification is also influenced by spatial layout (location, visibility, accessibility) and by the materiality of the object (size of the object, materials used, etc.), as illustrated by the equestrian statue of Leopold II in Place du Trône, a place of passage and power, which is regularly spray painted, unlike the statue of Leopold II in Ixelles (Square du Jardin du Roi) in a less visible location, which has been spray painted twice since 2020.

4.2. Strategy B: Direct addition

47This strategy consists in pleading for the addition of information to a controversial memorial marker. This can take place in a number of ways.

48For example, the owners of the object or those responsible for it could add an explanatory plaque, although this format has some limitations (it must be brief and, in Brussels, written in at least two languages). They could also add a QR code with a link to a website, which is a simple and more flexible option. This was the solution chosen by the Parcours BD of the City of Brussels, which was accused of sexism in 2021 by the group Noms Peut-Être.

49A new object could also be added (a second street name plate, for example) or information could be added directly on the object (such as the addition of a female first name for two streets in Ixelles, Rue Maria Malibran and Rue Pierre et Marie Curie).

50Finally, in some cases, those responsible for the controversial object have also opted for a direct addition in the form of a performance. This is what the Brussels Region did with the Monument aux pionniers du Congo in the Parc du Cinquantenaire in March 2024:

1. The first argument identified in our body of arguments in favour of a direct addition is that it makes the protest visible to passers-by, inviting them to take an interest in the debate. It is a form of questioning. Without this addition, a person unfamiliar with the references conveyed by the memorial marker would not be able to understand a possible controversy [Stanard, 2011]. Depending on the purpose and implementation of the addition (text, QR code, mirror, artistic performance, etc.), this strategy could be used to provoke thought among people who are, in principle, indifferent to the symbol;

2. Following on from this argument, a direct addition would also have the advantage of juxtaposing different messages, creating a new understanding of the symbol, or even complementing the message initially conveyed, thanks to a counter-narrative, critical comments, testimonials, etc. History education advocates the inclusion of what is referred to as the “in-between”: the analysis of the evolution from the original historical event until the present day [Wansink et al., 2018]. In this way, the emphasis is placed not only on reconstructing the period in which the statues were erected, but also on their subsequent use, and therefore on the different meanings attributed to them. This allows people who are not directly involved in protesting against the symbol (e.g. students) to reflect on its current significance;

3. With this in mind, direct addition lays the foundations for the debate by presenting various arguments.

52Conversely, direct addition is sometimes accused of being an insufficient response to the protests. For example, the working group for the bust of Roger Nols identified the need to implement other actions in order to reinforce this strategy, focused on education, awareness-raising, inclusion and anti-discrimination [Degryse et al., 2022]. Interpretations of the symbol by different social groups over time can be placed at the heart of a comprehensive programme built around the controversial symbol.

53A direct addition as such is not (necessarily) proportionate to the controversial symbol. There is sometimes a big difference in format between a symbol and a direct addition. If the direct addition takes the form of a QR code or a text, for example, its visual and symbolic reach will often be considered far inferior to the symbolic reach of a marble or copper object, or a work of art several metres high.

54Finally, direct addition also runs the risk of individualising a protest around a single person, thus avoiding questioning societal structures or examining public space as a whole. Thus, for example, while women's first names have been added to two street names in Ixelles, there is still a glaring imbalance in the municipality, with only 15 street names in honour of women compared to 139 dedicated to men (and 1 street paying tribute to a man and a woman, Rue Pierre et Marie Curie).

4.3. Strategy C: Indirect addition

1. • 22 Parlement de Bruxelles-Capitale, Commission du développement territorial – Session 2019-2020, pp.74 (...)

   Among the main arguments in favour of this strategy is the idea that the indirect addition would rebalance the urban space (see, for example, for the feminisation of the Parcours BD, the press release from A. Pinxteren, 11.09.2021). By intervening elsewhere with complementary measures, the overall coherence of the public space in Brussels would be adapted to the values our society wishes to promote (at least in the eyes of those in positions of power). This strategy would make it possible not to remove controversial symbols, but to add new ones in order to multiply and diversify points of view as well as put them in perspective, which is an argument also put forward by members of the Brussels parliament22;

2. According to some members of the working group for the bust of Roger Nols, an indirect digital addition would make it possible to reach a wider audience, as it would no longer be necessary to be in front of the controversial object to access information relating to the protests. Depending on its format, the indirect addition could be more inclusive, aimed at schools (in the form of an educational kit, for example), visitors and Brussels residents alike;

3. • 23 BIERMÉ, Maxime, 2023. Bart Van Loo: “Notre regard n’est jamais neutre”. In: Le Soir. 2 February 202 (...)

   This strategy would make it possible to juxtapose different messages, in particular by providing new information on a different perspective of the symbol related to its context, evolution and the protests surrounding it. Facts and historical debates are presented simultaneously, as author Bart Van Loo sums up: “We need to explain to our young people not only the facts, but also how they have been instrumentalised. That is the true meaning of history: knowing first, then understanding how others use it.”23

4. Finally, the indirect addition would lay the foundations for dialogue (see also strategy B). The indirect addition would be a first step, to be reinforced by other interventions (the study on Roger Nols served as the basis for setting up a working group, and the report of the working group of Urban.Brussels on colonial traces in Brussels served as the basis for organising Heritage Days 2022 on this theme and for drafting the Brussels action plan towards decolonisation, etc.).

57Finally, some members of the Roger Nols working group feared that indirect addition could be inaccessible to part of the population, particularly in the case of digital devices and the digital divide (i.e. “various forms of inequality linked to the mass distribution and use of digital technologies in everyday life” [Brotcorne and Mariën, 2020: 12]). In this context, a combination of information strategies should be considered in order to reach target groups from various backgrounds.

4.4. Strategy D: Direct protest

58This strategy involves interfering with the memorial marker, its colour or positioning. In Brussels, graffiti has often appeared on colonial symbols. Representations of Leopold II, King Baudouin and General Storms were often the targets of this direct protest, as were monuments honouring the “pioneers” of Belgian colonisation.

59Direct protest can also take the form of a move within the public space. For example, the working group set up by Urban.brussels on decolonisation called for the creation of an open-air “dumping ground” in the Parc du Cinquantenaire where the colonial memorial markers in Brussels could be brought, with free public access [Abrassart et al., 2022: 154].

60While graffiti on statues is mainly the work of activists, direct acts of protest are also carried out by public authorities. For example, the mayor of Ixelles, Christos Doulkeridis, did not ask for the bust of General Storms to be cleaned, leaving it covered in red paint for just over a year (anonymous citizens cleaned the bust one night in September 2021; interview with C. Doulkeridis, 15.12.2022). In Schaerbeek, two elected representatives returned the bust of former mayor Roger Nols to its pedestal on 5 December 2023. A direct protest against a memorial marker is therefore not an act which is limited to militants.

1. • 25 RTBF, 2018. Le buste de Léopold II au parc Duden “déboulonné” par des militants anti-coloniaux. In: (...)

   Arguments in favour of this strategy postulate that it would make it possible to counter the violence conveyed by the symbol with a form of proportionate response or even legitimate defence. The Association Citoyenne pour un Espace Public Décolonial (ACED) claimed responsibility for the protest against the bust of Leopold II in Parc Duden (the bust was toppled and rolled into the bushes), with the question: “What better way to exclude a segment of the national community than to honour the executioners of its ancestors?”25

2. This type of intervention would once again allow different messages to be juxtaposed. In 2004, in Ostend, the De Stoete Ostendenoare group sawed off the hand of the Congolese figure in the monument in honour of Leopold II. The group wanted to divert the propagandist message instilled in the work of art when it was erected in 1931, in reference to the policy of severed hands in force in the Congo Free State. On discovering the amputation of the Congolese figure, the city of Ostend decided that the modification of the work provided useful additional information to passers-by [Kesteloot, 2022]. It therefore left the artwork as it was, rather than opting for the status quo strategy (strategy A).

61However, this strategy is often described as vandalism by its opponents (whether elected representatives, local residents, heritage activists, etc.). According to them, it damages works of art without changing anything about the past. The term “vandalism” is not neutral. It can be defined as an act committed by a person “who, for pleasure or malice, deliberately damages or destroys works of art, or beautiful or useful things” or “who, through stupidity, ignorance or lack of good judgement, defaces or damages a site, a landscape, a work of art, etc.” [CNRTL lexical portal].

4.5. Strategy E: Indirect protest

63This strategy consists in proposing another memorial marker elsewhere in the public space (as with indirect addition) when dealing with a controversial memorial marker, but this time explicitly protesting against the initial object instead of simply adding information.

1. • 28 LIBÉRATION, 2020. Interview Laura Nsengiyumva: “On devrait pouvoir vandaliser ces monuments avec po (...)

   The main argument in favour of indirect protest is that it allows us to build new narratives with new material. In this sense, indirect protest allows groups who feel excluded from public space to reclaim it in part and to feel that they are being represented in new urban narratives [Stoler, 2013]. About her work PeoPL, Laura Nsengiyumva explains: “Melting means disappearing, but it is also a process which can reveal something hidden – here, of course, and metaphorically, there was the desire to reveal unheard narratives and regain power over the symbols which surround us”.28

2. Certain activities which are part of this strategy, such as guided tours, also make it possible not to focus on a single object or figure and to concentrate on the issues which the symbol represents, for example by linking colonial traces to the discrimination which people of African origin still face in Brussels today [Demart et al., 2017], or by approaching a theme from its urban perspective (e.g. colonial traces on the scale of a municipality, or the gendered dimension of the centre of Brussels).

65But this view on the scale of a neighbourhood or municipality is at the heart of the main argument against indirect strategies (C and E): indirect protest, like indirect addition, runs the risk of being unnoticed by passers-by, who will encounter the controversial memorial marker at another time or in another place.

4.6. Strategy F: Removal

66The final strategy advocated with respect to a controversial memorial marker is to demand the outright removal of the object from the public space. It could then be entrusted to a museum or cultural institution, which would decide whether or not to make it accessible to the public. It could also be left in a place which is inaccessible to the general public, or destroyed and all traces of it removed. This is the case of the Léopold II tunnel, which has been renamed Annie Cordy, and some STIB stops which have been renamed after women. In Ixelles, the bust of General Emile Storms was finally removed by the municipality on 30 June 2022. Pending a possible agreement with the Ixelles museum, which is currently being renovated, the bust is no longer accessible to the public. This strategy of suppression is not exclusive to militants. In Brussels, the busts of Leopold II in Square du Souverain (Auderghem) and in Parc Duden (Forest) were badly damaged and knocked to the ground, suggesting an attempt to destroy them.

1. • 29 RTBF, 2020. Accord de principe pour déplacer la statue du “Général Storms” vers l'Africa Museum. In (...)

   The first argument in favour of the strategy of removal from public space is that it allows us to delegate the delicate memorial task to museums and cultural institutions. The object can be contextualised by professionals. This argument was put forward, for example, when the mayor of Ixelles, Christos Doulkeridis, said of the Storms bust: “It belongs in a museum, which will help put the facts into context”29;

2. A second argument in favour of removal ties in with the abovementioned argument for indirect protest: removal is a means of reclaiming narratives presented for all to see. This argument is based on the dynamic and evolving nature of public space, which is shaped in keeping with the values which society wishes to convey today, in contrast to those displayed when the symbols concerned were erected. This does not mean that certain narratives would be “erased”, but rather that they would be reserved for other spaces more appropriate than public space, which – by definition – imposes itself on users. A controversial object can therefore be removed from the public space without completely destroying the debate on the subject in question, provided that other tangible anchor points are chosen in order to establish a dialogue (e.g. a museum).

67This ties in with an argument put forward by opponents of this strategy: removing a controversial symbol would deprive us of a medium for debate. In the case of the bust of Roger Nols, the working group felt that, rather than removing it, it would be more appropriate to divert the object from its original purpose and convey a new message of awareness and education.

69Another argument put forward in opposition to the removal strategy concerns the relocation of these objects to museums. The characteristics of these places are very different from those of the public space: access is not free and the public is less diverse and more inclined to take time to reflect. In public space, however, there is a much wider diversity of people who pass through, and it is of course free of charge. These characteristics influence the scope of contextualisation work regarding a controversial memorial marker. At the same time, museums and cultural institutions have sometimes been reluctant to house controversial symbols from the public space. Furthermore, by entrusting a controversial symbol to a museum, there is no guarantee that the symbol will be part of the institution's permanent exhibition, and that educational work will be carried out (and well, for that matter).

70Finally, one last argument makes the removal of a controversial memorial marker conditional on its replacement by a new marker espousing a counter-perspective. During the seminar organised by the BSI, the choice of Annie Cordy as the new name of the Leopold II tunnel was strongly opposed by decolonial associations, which had hoped that the new name would reflect the protests against the colonial role of the former sovereign, for example through the names of people who had resisted colonisation, and also pointed to the use of racist stereotypes in some of the music videos by the famous singer.

Conclusions

71Protests against memorial markers are not a recent phenomenon, as attested by those against statues erected in the 19^th century by the liberal majority in Brussels, or much older movements related to the French Revolution, the Iconoclastic War, or changes of power under the Roman Empire [KNAW, 2023]. Nor are they specific to Brussels: many cities are confronted with these debates, both in Belgium and abroad [Gensburger and Wustenberg, 2023].

72The murder of African-American George Floyd by a white police officer in 2020 in the United States and the amplification of the Black Lives Matter movement created a momentum in Brussels and an unprecedented protest against the colonial traces present in the public space [Kesteloot, 2022]. Numerous initiatives have been taken by decision-makers in Brussels at various levels of power (municipal, regional, community and federal). This multiplicity of stakeholders and initiatives presents a risk of inconsistency and even contradiction, but it can also offer opportunities to include other perspectives in the dialogue. However, this potential is scarcely ever used. Decision-makers are therefore pushed to take quick and uncomfortable decisions, sometimes leading to the emergence of new protests and even greater polarisation.

73These protests reappear regularly. The destruction of the statue of the worker on the monument in honour of John Cockerill in Place du Luxembourg, or the creation of a bus stop in the name of Mehdi Bouddha, who died at the age of 17 after being hit by a police car, before the end of the trial against the indicted police officers, are recent examples of the new protests which are emerging and the difficulties encountered in dealing with them.

74In a cosmopolitan city such as Brussels, events on the international scene can also suddenly reignite debates. Recently, for example, anti-Semitic graffiti appeared on a plaque in Bois de la Cambre commemorating three World War II resistance fighters. The conflict in Gaza has regularly led to an increase in anti-Semitic acts in Belgium [Jacobs et al., 2011].

75If we examine the debates in Brussels on this issue, it is striking how often they are reduced to a binary field of tension: when faced with a controversial symbol, the choice seems to boil down to removing the marker in question or adding an explanatory plaque. However, further exploration reveals a more refined context, influenced by proposals from various stakeholders. Numerous examples from Brussels point in this direction. Each strategy does not necessarily exclude the other, allowing combinations according to the objectives pursued. In this perspective, our inductive approach identifies an additional crucial parameter: the willingness of decision-makers to open a dialogue on the figures, events and messages associated with memorial markers.

76The opening of such historic debates should take several elements into account. Firstly, these debates should not be limited to a single object, but should encompass all of the associated markers: a single event is often commemorated by several markers (statues, street names, celebrations, etc.). It is important not to consider memorial markers in isolation, in order to build integrated approaches (which also pertain to potential protests, i.e. memorial markers which do not appear to be controversial at present, but could be at any time). This requires making room for programming initiatives over a longer period (involving schools, museums, etc.).

78Thirdly, the people involved in decision-making processes and the associated intervention strategies are a major concern. As the commemorative landscape reflects the vision of decision-makers modifying public space [Dobruszkes, 2010], it is crucial to involve other social groups, stakeholders and organisations (political decision-makers, experts, local residents, activists, etc.) in the reflections and decisions regarding the modification of public space. The plurality and polyphony of memory will enable us to find a better balance of power in the definition of a new, more inclusive public space.

79In this way, controversial symbols can (possibly) become springboards towards a democratic dialogue in which preconceived ideas and misinformation can be deconstructed, and in which different stakeholders from the Brussels population can participate in the production of new knowledge during participatory workshops, for example by going beyond the simplistic vision of a “victimised” group or a “bad” figure, which would not take into account the institutions (state, financial, cultural, museum, etc.), organisations or schools of thought which founded or reinforced this balance of power.

80Finally, as history is always a problematic and incomplete interpretation of the past [Nora, 1984], memory and history should remain dynamic and evolving, and should even follow rotating cycles, in order to present different perspectives of a historical debate, and above all the viewpoints of groups which have been excluded from it in the past.

81This summary aims to show the importance of going beyond debates confined to the removal or recontextualisation of a controversial symbol, in order to build a global approach to representations of history in the public space, their roles, the intervention strategies available when dealing with these protests, and the main aspects of the debate to bear in mind when making decisions and choices. The report by the Royal Netherlands Academy of Arts and Sciences quoted at the beginning of the synopsis states that “[f]reedom of expression, even on controversial monuments, is part of Dutch democracy. Monuments help people develop a vision of themselves and the world. Discussions, demonstrations, petitions and protests cause unrest, but they also keep the past alive and prevent a society from losing its memory. Through trial and error, the unrest surrounding public monuments creates a new history of the Netherlands” [KNAW, 2023: 11].

82The protests against memorial markers in Brussels can therefore be a true opportunity to build a more inclusive and democratic society, provided that decision-makers create possibilities for dialogue with the various parts of the population representing the pluralism of society.

We thank all participants at the seminar on 14 June 22, as well as I. Goddeeris, C. Kesteloot, L. Licata and C. Loir for their proofreading and suggestions regarding this article.