In 1894 San Francisco dedicated an elaborate monument to the history of California, a vast pile of granite and bronze paid for by the estate of philanthropist James Lick. Last week San Francisco took a step toward getting rid of it.
Activists had tried before to have the monument removed, but that was before the modern frenzy for stuffing statues down the memory hole. The problem is a grouping of three bronze men—a cowboy, an Indian, and a cleric—off on one side of the monument. Right thinkers have long complained about how the Indian is portrayed.
This is how the San Francisco Board of Supervisors—in a breathless 1894 municipal report touting Lick’s grand gesture—described the statuary now in question: “The group of three figures fronting the City Hall consists of a native Indian reclining” (you see, the Indian was just relaxing), “over whom bends a Catholic priest, endeavoring to convey to the Indian some religious knowledge.” And then this about the Indian: “On his face you may see the struggle of dawning intelligence.”
Were all one knew about the statue the description offered by the city fathers, one might be inclined to think that the complainants have a point.
But let’s imagine that the Indian figure had been heroically posed: Would that have been an honest portrayal of the Native Americans’ plight? Say what you will about the mix of grief and exhaustion and defeat on the Indian’s face: It isn’t phony. You can agree with the American Indian Movement Confederation that, back in the 1990s, argued the statue symbolized “the humiliation, degradation, genocide, and sorrow inflicted upon this country’s indigenous people,” and at the same time disagree that it should be removed. The activists, in the name of modern political hygiene, would put out of sight a statue that could have been designed to make their argument.
Old man Lick, by the way, was quite the benefactor. In addition to the Pioneer Monument, Lick’s estate provided the funding for any number of San Francisco amenities. There were the free public James Lick baths; there were schools and orphanages; there was an observatory; there was the Old Ladies’ Home that bore his name.
Oh, and yes, Lick money paid for a monument in Golden Gate Park honoring Francis Scott Key. The Scrapbook wonders how long it will be before that statue is deemed problematic too: Key, you see, penned the words to a militaristic ditty that some football players now seem to find objectionable.
